TransAm Trail Ride August 1 2016

Hi Everyone!

I volunteered to put together this blog for the August 1, 2016 trip to provide ideas and collaboration for planning the trip and to collect information from other travellers who have travelled the trail to help us from their experience - what to take - what not to take - what to tell your wife if you have a custom cast fitted along the way, etc.

I came across Nick Dillon's blog: transamtrail.blogspot.com, and have copied his chronicles here.  Not only is it a fun read, it is helpful and informative. Nick made the trip on a 2008 KTM 400 without incident, at least until he began the process of shipping his bike home. You will just have to read the story...

There are several grades of technical riding along the way. Some of these degrees of difficulty can be exaggerated by weather conditions judging by the photos available ( I will post as many as I can find which are helpful) bigger is not better. The lighter the load, the easier the difficult sections are likely to be. (I thought I'd call Frank Stevens (Munoz) and ask if he still has his step-through Honda 50 with the straight pipe.

The equipment needs to be street legal because some of the journey crosses highways and there is frequently going to be the detour for gas & tequila and other essentials.

My son would like to come along and pilot a truck (at least part of the time) which can carry the camping equipment, spares, tools and food which should make the journey much more pleasant. Hopefully we can set up an auxiliary gas setup as well as long as we don't have to sacrifice too much beer space. Will is in the final 200 miles of the Appalachian Trail having already hiked 2100 miles so he can lend us some good advice on camping gear. He is also a trained EMT which is helpful if we have any drama.

PLEASE NOTE: Blogspot will not allow me to organize the chronology from oldest post to newest which means to start reading from the beginning, you need to go to the oldest archive at the bottom and work backwards. There is a workaround but it's going to take a lot of manual fiddling....

So leave a message, say hi, check in and comment to your heart's delight.

Update 7/16 - New Links to previous trips and some equipment links added.

Best,
Peter

From the Burning Mountains Down to Denio Junction

We set off from little McDermitt to ride the mountains over to Denio (Deny – o). Fast gravel roads led us into the Zimmerman Ranch and right into a creek crossing. It was a shock to see a healthy flowing stream after a week of desert. We passed the ranch house and climbed into meadows of sage. Then the sage disappeared into a fire ravaged landscape of charred stumps. The poor deer we saw had nothing to eat and nowhere to hide.

Despite the post apocalyptic setting the trail was excellent. The sandy hard pack and bermed turns was a blast to ride. I was having an “on” day exploding out of the stream crossings and around the sweet swooping double track. The trail had just enough slide to let the rear end loose but enough stick to keep control. If I did blow a turn there was nothing but sand covered in a dusting of soot.

It was a dead and sad land of destruction. We found out the fire had come through about a month ago and had burned all of the mountain areas form McDermitt clear to Denio. We passed a few areas where springs seeped through and fed bright green patches in the otherwise bleak landscape.

When we pulled into the junction in Denio we were a little early to quit for the day but a little late to push on to Virgin Valley campground. So we just hung out at the picnic tables at the Junction and met the travelers and locals passing through. There was a couple just back from an Oregon road trip, a Paradise Valley Harley rider meeting up with a buddy on a custom Goldwing. We met Jared a well digger and the owners friend who helped out around the place.

Suddenly a deafening noise as we all turned to watch an old pan head rumble up to the pumps. The rider was from Oregon headed to Battle Mountain to work in the mines. It was dark and cold and the old bike was leaking gas out of one of the two tanks. Like most folks he got gas, had a few beers and then headed off into the night. A minute later he was back with a broken clutch. I gave him some wire from our tool kit. After rigging the bike he kick started it back to life, worked the suicide shifter into gear and was off into the darkness. We could hear him far off into the desert as the clutch worked from gear to gear, still holding. We were glad we had taken a short day and checked in to our little room behind the bar.

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Green River to Nowhere

Samantha’s front wheel shoots skyward as the bike bucks her off the back. Both bike and girl settle back to earth. It isn’t the first fall of the day but it’s the most spectacular. We picked up the trail in Green River. It turned to dirt right out of town but then lead us back to highway 70, that cement behemoth that stretches from Florida to California. It’s very odd to go from a winding dirt trail and then suddenly take an onramp to the freeway. The speed seems impossible. The bike is eager, there are whole sets of gears I haven’t used in days, but I am not. At 60 the wind is roaring and my helmet buffets from the force. Then the trail goes dead. It’s only happened to us a few times but we are stumped. We just crossed the San Rafael River and the trail should be right here, on it’s western bank. We decide to ride up the shoulder of the highway, perhaps turn around, when we find an open cattle gate leading onto a dirt road. We turn our backs to the highway and follow it to its terminus, under a dead cottonwood. The trail is deep sand. We wrestle the bikes around and shoot spires of sand as we totter back through. Then we spot just the hint of another way. We follow that and finally we meander back onto the Trans America Trail, the same one we’ve been following since Tellico Plains, Tennessee.

We are about to ride the worst section of the trail. Our friend Jason wisely bowed out of this part of the trail so it’s just the two of us again. The map says in classic Sam Correrro understatement, “It you are on a big heavy bike you should take [the] bypass. This will avoid very deep sand, big rocks and a nasty uphill climb.” After one of Samantha’s numerous spills she jokes, “remind me to punch Sam in the face.”

The trail starts tamely. We curve between dirt hills and come across an Airstream Trailer, gleaming in the desert sun. It reminds me of a movie, I’m not sure which, or a dream or a life I want to live out here, in that relic. Suddenly I develop an affinity for vintage trailers that lasts the rest of the trip. Probably because any form of shelter seems desirable compared to the little spot of shade offered by a motorcycle on its side stand. A spot if shade that we will use often over the next few days.

The challenge for this section is not only is it technically difficult riding but it is also remote. That means the bikes are heavier than usual with water and extra gasoline.

We enter a narrow slot canyon. The red walls rise up around us as we ride the wash. I pray it doesn’t rain somewhere up stream. Then Samantha and I have a bit of a tiff. Unusual for us. It’s hot and I hide in the shade of a huge rock. Our voices echo off the canyon walls, mocking us, making us sound absurd and we realize it. I apologize. I’ve been off since yesterday afternoon. We are back on track. We need to be a team, especially for this desert crossing. The same indomitable spirit that enables Samantha to ride this trail also insists on respect and love.

We ride on, motorcycles echoing in the canyon. The trail follows the creek bottom through loose gravel, sand and boulders.

Eventually we clear the canyon and ascend into a great, sloping meadow. Pinyon and Juniper follow the slopes and then trail off in the basin. It’s enchanting. Low mesas rim the valley. As we ride on we realize it’s not just one perfect valley but mazes of valleys. After the stiff rock walls and boulder strewn canyon it’s a welcoming place. It reminds me of the African Plains and perhaps it appeals on some primordial level. I want to live here, safely tucked in these little valleys. Protected from the vagaries of humanity by these stone mesas, sentinels against the rising tide of a frantic world.

We take a break crawl under a group of pinyon pines for shade. The ground is a soft bed of pine needles. Far off to the north we see the castles and spires of red rock country, like a fairy tale. What an improbable land this is. I remark that we are here at the perfect time. To try to cross these empty spaces in the heat of summer would be unthinkable. It’s hot even in late September.

Back on the bikes the road is smooth and fast. It feels as though we are flying across these meadows. We throw the bikes into swooping turns and the tires dig in. We are in the middle of nowhere and having the time of our lives.

The sound of the motor on my WR has matured into a steady growl. It’s as if it’s come into its own. It feels more powerful than when we started. It’s louder, grumpier, and rides like an unruly horse. It likes the top end of each gear where the power band spins the rear tire into a fit of rocks and dirt. But I’ve found sweet spots where I can settle her down to a content whistling hum.

Samantha and I are riding better and better. After almost two months of constant riding we are at home in the saddle. And that’s a good thing because we are quickly dropped into some of the most challenging riding the Trans America Trail has to offer.

We descend into more red rock canyons. The challenges are familiar but harder. Deep sand, but deeper, rocky climbs but steeper. The climbs are the real bear. The trick is to try to understand the whole obstacle in one glance, quickly pick a line and then focus on the particulars of each stone step and ledge. I usually start in the saddle, picking my way up and finish standing, throttle close to wide open, just to be sure to leave the obstacles behind me. I fall over several times, so does Samantha. At one point we cross under highway 70. We imagined that if we needed help, gas, water, the highway would be there but now looking hundreds of feet up sheer canyon walls at the steel arches of the highway bridge we realize we are truly on our own down here. No matter we are having fun. Surprised at what the bikes can accomplish. At one point we start in a deep sandy creek bed, gun it up and out of the sand and then immediately into a set of rock steps, up, up, up again, knees flailing for balance, throwing the bike towards the only way out and then we are on top. We’ve had enough for the day. We park the bikes on the side of the trail and find rocks to support the side stands in the sand. We find a ledge that hangs over a canyon. A perfect rock spire is visible to the north and then more and more canyons and ledges to infinity. We pitch the tent right on the ledge. I get a fire going. Samantha makes dinner away from our tent site. As the sun turns the canyon into a glowing red dreamscape we kick back by the fire eating dehydrated black beans and sipping warm water. We are less than half way through, and a little short on water but we feel good. Happy to be out here rather than in there. We stoke the fire and climb into our tent. The firelight flickers on our nylon walls. We lay flat on our backs staring up into the star filled universe.

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Info on the Passes

To say that we didn’t know what we were getting into wouldn’t quite get to the grizzle of it. 12,700 feet above sea level is not a hospitable place. There are no trees, very little oxygen and no place for a warm mug of coffee, but what there are in abundance are rocks, entire fields full of jagged, loose rocks. And the trail itself is a rocky mess. As the motorcycle loses power the rocks get looser. It’s the kind of riding in which stopping is not an option, nor is turning around because the ride back seems just as ominous as the ride forward.

It’s one thing to ride through warm meadows and gaze dreamily at the mountains beyond. It’s another thing all together to point the bike skyward and ride right up them. Like swimming with whales, what seemed like gentle giants, become, upon closer inspection, uneasy, tumultuous beasts. The remnants of landslides, rock slides and snow slides define this place. Trees hunker in little groves where, by some chance of geography, they are protected from the grinding avalanches. Everywhere else is bare rock.

We climb and climb and then climb some more. At the top we discover a stick propped in the rock and a little sign, Cinnamon Pass. It’s already late in the afternoon and we have many more passes to go. We hunker down and get into a rhythm. Going between first and second gear we slowly grind our way up the mountains and then down again. Hurricane, California, we tick off the passes until finally, with the dark and cold descending the last mountain with us we roll into the sleepy little town of Silverton.

We had planned to camp but it’s cold and we’re out of water and looking for a warm bed. We ask a girl with a dog and she sends us around the corner to the hostel. We get a bunk, catch some live music at the brewery and have a rum drink at the Montanya Distillery and another day is done.

A few miles closer to the Pacific. We still have Ophir pass ahead of us. I now understand why the rocky mountains were an obstacle to westward expansion. But more than that I start to feel like I am counting the days and adventures we have left. The slower we go the longer we get to be out here, exploring. And so the goal is not to finish but to slow down and enjoy the adventure.

Advice on the TransAm Trail

I don’t pretend to be an authority on motorcycle adventure touring or the Trans America Trail but I humbly offer the following information only as my opinion in the hopes it might be useful. I have ridden the entire trail and then some. I also took my time to explore. 

What’s the trail like:

From it’s start in Tellico Plains, Tennessee to Salida, Colorado for the most part the trail is not technical and can be ridden by riders with mediocre skills and on most motorcycles. There are creek crossings and some can be deep depending on rain. There is also deep sand for short distances close to the end of Tennessee and in parts of New Mexico and Oklahoma. There is lots of loose gravel, some of it deep. This can be challenging, like riding on marbles. There can be very slippery mud anywhere on the trail, just add rain. There is also one technical, downhill section somewhere in the Ozarks. It’s very short and fun.

Colorado to Salida is graded forest service roads. While not technical it is just the type of road you would want to cross the country on and very scenic, especially the ride from Trinidad to Salida.

Crossing The Continental Divide:

Once you reach the Rocky Mountains in Colorado things get interesting. See our post “Five Passes in One Day”

this will give you good visuals on what the mountain passes are like. The roads have loose shale near the tops but nothing unridable. I would not want to ride it with snow on the ground so choose your dates accordingly. It can be intimidating but as long as you keep your eyes on the road and not the drop off you’ll be fine. Some of the switch backs are quite tight. Motocross riders will be bored while those with mostly road experience, big bikes, heavily loaded or two up might be challenged. Start early and take your time. Crossing the Rockies was almost all on a wider two lane path, not technical single track. Anywhere technical you can always detour around it on a highway or secondary road although it may add time and require trip planning to get back on route.

The Dessert After Moab

This area is marked on Sam’s maps for the Trans America Trail and is quite technical. It is the only area that Sam posts a ride around for and for good reason. We rode the whole thing and you can read about our adventure across this area in “Green River to Nowhere”

 The pictures don’t do a good job of showing the technical sections but they are there. Expect big rocks, big stair steps up and down, deep and long sand washes, single track, etc. It took us all day to ride 10 miles. It is also a very remote area so plenty of water and double up. I would not ride this section alone. 

Samantha was not an experienced rider at all before the trip but she managed to navigate these areas and have fun doing it. Three things were crucial to that. Her bike was small enough for her to easily handle, she was willing to fall – alot and she had been riding for about two months straight on the trail. We both fell often navigating these sections. You can start right outside of Moab by riding the trail through Gemini Bridges. If that works for you the next challenge is outside Green River. The trail starts out challenging and gets progressively harder but it is also a lot of fun, at least on a dirt bike.  

The section from Zimmermans’s ranch down to Denio Junction includes some of the best riding on the trip but also one of the toughest climbs. In our post there is a picture of Samantha on this section.

“From the Burning Mountains Down to Denio Junction”

It is very loose rock that tosses you around. Once stopped it’s tough to get started again. Other challenges that occur mostly out west and in the desert are endless deep dust and riding in ruts or ruts with endless deep dust. By the end we got so good we could hop over the hump and bound from track to track but in the beginning it was both legs out in first gear. 

What kind of gear do I need:

We packed as light as possible. That is very important both for gas mileage and technical sections. It also makes the bike more fun to ride. Most days we wear our one set of motorcycle pants and jacket changing out underwear, shirts and socks daily. We packed one set of going out clothes and a small, lightweight pair of shoes. We also packed a bunch of clean T shirts, socks and underpants and two pairs of bicycle shorts. We wash our socks and bicycle shorts in the evenings when we have water (motel’s or established campgrounds). We packed a small tent, REI half dome, a small stove and pot (Jet Boil) and one spoon each. We also packed $20.00 Frogg Togg rain suits. They pack really small, are completely waterproof and breathable and are bright yellow for visibility. The downside is they blow around in the wind, especially the hood. Although in the mud we weren’t going fast anyway. It only became a factor when out on the highway making a break for a motel to get out of the rain. Frogg Toggs make a motorcycle specific rain suit but I am sure it is much bigger and heavier and more expensive. We brought light sheets and two light weight, stuffable sleeping bags, half size inflatable bed rolls and one warm fleece each. We ran late in the season and in Oregon we bought warmer jackets, neck warmers and warm gloves. 

How Much Time Do I Need?

I would take as much time as possible. There is always more to see and do and lots of fun little towns to explore along the way. In all we took three months! I think people who average 200 miles a day can do the whole thing in around 2 weeks but that’s not us.

When Should I Go?

The trail spans so many climates it’s tough to say. If you go too early in the spring you’ll be blocked by snow in the mountains. If you go mid summer it will be very hot in the East and Central parts, nice in Colorado and blazingly hot during the day in Moab and Nevada deserts and then nice in Oregon.

We left in late August. We crossed Marshall Pass in Colorado in early or mid September and it was perfect. It will still be hot in from Tennessee through Oklahoma but Colorado, Utah and Nevada will be ideal. Any later and you risk snow and cold in the higher elevations of Colorado and Utah. I suppose you could also leave in the spring and time it so that the snow melts out in Colorado but Utah and Nevada might be too hot by then.

What Motorcycle Should I Use:

Well everyone has a different opinion on this one but I am really enjoying the ride on my Yamaha WR 250 R. It has great suspension, gets incredible gas mileage and can ride over anything. It takes luggage nicely and is very reliable. The most important thing to consider is having a very, very comfortable saddle.  All we’ve done is change our oil, clean our air filters and oil the chain. Neither my bike or Samantha’s Yamaha TW 200 are for the highway but are great fun on paved, twisty country roads of which there are plenty of, especially in Tennessee.  I read somewhere, maybe it was Sam Corerro, that no one ever wished for a bigger or heavier bike on  the TAT.

If you have some kind of adventure bike already I would ride that. Honestly so much of the trail is graded dirt that you could get away with a lighter street bike with knobbies for most of the trail. If your shopping I think a smaller, lighter and more nimble bike is a priority. Maybe bigger guys could muscle a BMW 1200 GS through but I would have a tough time. The KTM adventure bike might be a better choice but I would rather have something light and fun like a four stroke road legal dirt bike as long as it’s reliable. A friend met us in Telluride and road with us clear to Moab on a Triumph Tiger. This is a big bike with a big tank that makes it feel even bigger but he was able to ride through with no problems. He was challenged on the double track and loose gravel while I was whooping it up. I got a chance to ride it and it is an amazing bike but definitely road biased. We had to part ways at Gemini Bridges outside of Utah as this was just too much on the big triple. 

What Rack System Should I Use:

There are lots of racks out there including Wolfman and Giant Loop but in the end we just rigged something up with PVC and hose clamps to keep the bags away from the exhaust and were on our way. In hindsight if you have the money I would buy a professional rack because it is just so much less fussing along the way. The time to pack and unpack can really add up with an inefficient system. I finally abandoned my standard dry bags and webbing set up when I found two used bicycle saddlebags at “Anything Sports” in Salida. They are waterproof, stiff on the backside and I can get in and out of them without removing them from the bike. I would love to try out some other rack systems on our next trip. You will be in and out of them a lot so easy access and easy packing is essential as is waterproofness. They also should be rugged enough or easily fixed when you fall on them, because you will fall on them. An added bonus of any rack is that they will better protect the bike when you fall, but they have to be able to handle it. 

What About Navigation:

Go to Sam Corerro’s Trans America Trail

and order the maps. I highly recommend either buying Sam’s GPX files or spending the time on Google Earth making GPX files and using a GPS mounted on the bike to navigate. In our experience it was essential to have the paper maps when we were lost and the GPS for daily navigation. We also bought roll charts and although Sam swears by them we just forgot about them after a while because the GPS was so much more convenient. 

I have a detailed description on how to use Google earth to make GPX files.

 When we rode the trail Sam did not sell gps files so we had to make them ourselves. Now the digital gpx files are available for purchase on his site. If you buy them you will save many, many hours making your own. If you do it yourself you’ll get a sense of the trail while making them on google earth and you’ll save about $300. 

We are using a Garmin Nuvi 500. It is not the perfect GPS for this but it is waterproof, will store all the files for the entire TAT and upload them as needed and has a big touch screen, oh and it’s cheap compared to most of the others out there. It also automatically zooms in at intersections or crucial turns. The only problem we’ve had is that we had to tape the charging plug on the back so it wouldn’t rattle loose. I use it in night mode most of the time for better visibility. It has every back road and trail and topo line on it. It has both scooter and bicycle modes that will still keep you off the highways when going off the TAT.

What About Lodging:

We have used Sam Correro’s maps to find motels as well as our iphones and the gps. We also camp quite a bit using the “hike and camp” app. on our iPhone. The phones have been indispensable for finding food, lodging, camping, gas and navigation off the TAT. There is lots of camping along the way and I will try to do a feature on some of the camping we’ve found. Motels are around $40/night and they are marked on the Trans America Trail Maps.

How Much Money Do I Need:

Good question. The motels are the most expensive thing. Multiply $45/night times how long you’ll be on the trail. That’s why we’ve been camping a lot. Established campgrounds run from $18 to $8 and wild camping is free. If you eat out it’s going to cost a lot more than if you make your own food of course. We ran the numbers for gasoline and for our 78 mpg bikes it’s way behind food and lodging.

Should I ride it Alone:

Sure but ride cautiously. The nice thing about having a friend is if one bike breaks down you’re not stranded and if you injure yourself there’s someone to get help. But if you are careful and ride safe and bring plenty of water and supplies for the desert it’s not crazy to ride it alone. I would also seriously consider a GPS locater so that you can signal for help even when out of cell phone range, which is a lot of the time. I would not ride the technical sections out of Green River and the mountain passes while not too challenging might be a good place to double up. Lastly there are areas of the desert Southwest on the TAT that are extremely remote, having an issue out here, alone could be troublesome. 

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The gas station incident:

Friday, August 29, 2008

The gas station "incident"...

Looking back, I apparently forgot to mention my gas stop in Chiloquin, OR, just before Crater Lake. As I pull in, yet another gas station attendant was filling up the guy in front of me as I was waiting in line. Geez, not another gas pump babysitter! I don’t want to tip this guy for handing me the pump! Sheesh, I try to do it myself, but it wasn’t happening. The guy takes my card and hands me the pump. I feel like a 3 year old! But, luckily this guy goes to the next car after handing me my receipt. Ok… well… thanks?

Now, back to Port Orford… After I finished soaking in what I had just accomplished (any how fortunate I was), I decided to get some food, find a room and gas up. I pull up to the pump to find another attendant tending to the car on the other side. I swipe my card and grab the pump. As I’m waiting to get authorized, the gas attendant, a 40-something year old woman hiding behind large sunglasses (it was almost dark outside at this point, not sure why the sunglasses were necessary) and a baseball hat, says in her most authoritative voice:

“UMMM. EXCUSE ME SIR!? ARE YOU FAMILIAR WITH OREGON STATE LAW?”
“Um, no?”
“IN THE STATE OF OREGON, YOU HAVE TO BE CERTIFIED AND TRAINED TO HANDLE CLASS 1 FLAMABLE LIQUIDS, WHICH MEANS YOU NEED TO PUT THE PUMP BACK OR FACE A $500 FINE.”

By the tone of her voice, you would have thought that I was trying to steal or vandalize something of her own and that she had the authority and means to be judge, jury and executioner. I’m so shocked at this point, I’m literally speechless. Not only was this woman a total *****, but this beautiful state that I just rode through is also a nanny state… what a crying shame.

Rather than putting her hand around my crotch area to pump the gas, she does let me do the pumping, but I still had to hand the pump back to her after I was done. Still speechless, I drive off thinking about this law and how funny it is and how I now realize why each Oregon gas station I pumped gas at was a little quirky. Now, would it be more fun to watch non-Oregonians get busted pumping gas in Oregon, or watching Oregonians trying to figure out how to pump their own gas in the 48 babysitter-free states?

At this point I’m ahead of schedule by 4 days, which means I have 5 days to get to Portland before my flight leaves…more on that later…

Thursday, August 28, 2008

(Day 23) The last dash…

Saturday, July 26, 2008
Day 23
Crater Lake National Park to Port Orford, OR

My sleeping bag is rated for 35 degrees Fahrenheit, so it must have been 33 or 34 degrees, as I was a bit cold when I woke up at 6am. I have the whole getting packed and back on the road thing down to a science.

1. Release air from mattress
2. Put wrist watch on
3. Get out of bivy
4. Put sandals on
5. Disassemble tarp
6. Roll up mattress
7. Roll up sleeping bag
8. Disassemble/roll up bivy
9. Compress tarp, sleeping bag and bivy in stuff sack
10. Secure all non-wearable items in bags and tighten the load down
11. Socks, knee pads, pants, boots, armor suit, jacket, helmet, gloves, backpack.
12. Put sandals under netting
13. Gas on, key on, choke out, kill switch to run, 2 twists of throttle, start button
14. Idle for a bit, choke off, reset GPS trip computer
15. Load route for the day on the GPS
16. Go to nearest gas station for gas, water and granola.
17. Have fun.

Coming off the 7000’ rim of Crater Lake:



…I would gradually lose 5000’ of elevation all the way down to Lost Creek Lake. During this descent, the temperature rose to about 65 degrees in hardly any time at all. Not warm enough to take the jacket off, just perfect as a matter of fact.

On the way down, my GPS signal would have a hard time finding satellites underneath the tall and thick forests:



Even though I was on asphalt, the ride was still very spectacular and totally what I was expecting Oregon to be like. I motored down highway 62 to Shady Cove to get gas and provisions. The gas attendant was standing at the pump like she was waiting for me. Ugh, I don’t want full service, but it was my only option. She stands in between me and the pump so I have to hand her my card, she swipes it, asks me what grade of fuel I wanted and hands me the pump. I feel like I was being babysat. I get my 2 or 3 gallons and hand the pump back to her and she walks off after handing me the receipt… huh? No tip? Cool! I’m gone! (Still building this gas station story up aren’t I?)

Anyway, the TAT wasn’t far way:



The plan now was to rat-a-TAT-TAT all the way to the coast. On my GPS, I had these 4 parameters currently on display: Time and speed (since my odometer and watch were both concealed somewhat) and ETA (estimated time of arrival) and elevation. The ETA was always way too pessimistic and I’m not sure why I left that metric on display. Had I put the DTD (distance to destination) on instead, I would have known what I was in store for. But, from what I saw on the map compared to the map scale, it wouldn’t be too long before I was on the coast and sipping margaritas, or so I thought.

Anyway, this TAT trail is getting good:



Coming around another corner, I run up on this:



YO!!! Where is the ambulance?! Police?! Fire Truck?! I hop off the bike and check to see if anyone was in there. Nothing. Hmmm, what the heck is going on? Then, I saw some purple tape that read “evacuation route” running in and out of the car. There were also signs of the Jaws of Life being used and there were no fresh skid marks on the road. I deemed it safe, but still couldn’t figure out why they hadn’t towed this car out of the woods by now.

Anyhoo, back on the trail:



Be careful trying to break the speed of sound around these corners, you never know what lies ahead:



Hmm, can I see the ocean from here?



Naw, of course not, I’m just crossing I-5, my last interstate crossing:



Dang it, I had just gotten around 3 or 4 trees before getting to this point:



Guess we’ll have to get around them again! The logging in the area really takes away from some of the sight seeing and opens it up all at the same time…is that the ocean out there? Nope:



Wesk Fork, cool:



After I-5, the trails went every which way, up, down, north, south, east and west. My mental compass was all out of whack:



Coast?... nope:



Sure is pretty up here though:



Ehh, must took a wrong turn somewhere; the brush is passable, but just too thick to make good progress:



Shortly before the following picture, there was a “Road Closed” sign, looks good to me:



Oh, I see, a few rocks in the road, this must be why they closed it. That’s nothing the Orangutan and I can’t handle:



Well now, maybe this is:



Notice in the picture above (if you can) how my route (in purple) is just a straight line between each of my turn points (not following the road)…this is what I had to deal with all the way across the country.

The reroute was easy, but a little lengthy. Oh well, by this point I was starting to wonder if I was going to make the coast by dark. Each time I’d start to drop in elevation, I thought, “This is it, here it comes!”. And then the elevation would go back up to 4000’ feet. Typical thinking for an east coaster I guess.

Anyway, I guess I was too busy zooming in and out of my GPS unit figuring out which roads I would need to take to remain on the trail. Therefore I didn’t get many pictures until I knew I was really close to the coast.

One last road block:



I should have just rode over the bump and past the road closed sign, but I was already over 250 miles on the day and was really itching to get on the beach, so I rerouted. This reroute put me on pavement, but still offered some great views. I bet you could see the ocean from here if not for the cloud cover. But still a cool view:



Getting closer on Elk River Road. I thought I had seen just about every cloud there was until I saw these:



The only word that came to mind was, “mystical”. A left onto the famous highway 101 and I’m in Port Orford… finally. This view wasn’t as grand as Crater Lake, but still higher than my expectations:



From the driveway of my home in North Carolina to the Pacific Coast, all on a dirt bike. I made it on July 26th, 2008 at 4:46 pm:



The lady who snapped this picture had a much longer left leg than the right one (just kidding, of course):









Total mileage: 4733
Daily mileage: 288
Wildlife observed: [Sorry, slacked off on the wildlife reports]
Favorite Sight: The “mystical” clouds laying motionless over the Port Orford bay area
Favorite Scent: The pine trees again
Favorite Sound: Waves crashing on the beach
Favorite Taste: Fish and chip dip
Favorite Feel: Riding in the sand… the first time I’ve done this and something you’d get arrested for on the east coast.
Ailments: Nothing! Just a little tired, but it was a relaxing feeling as well.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

(Day 22) Let me give this dirt trail mapping a shot…

Friday, July 25th, 2008
Day 22
Lakeview, OR to Crater Lake National Park

Hmmm, according to the GPS data, I was only moving at 7:05am this morning. I must have been slacking off knowing I was finally out of the desert and into civilization. First stop was to fuel up. The Chevron seemed to be about the only gas station in town and it seemed to be open with people walking in and out of the store. The pump took my card, reset the numbers to zero, but would not pump the gas. Dang it, so I cancel the transaction and try the next pump… same story. The next pump? Same story. I motion towards the attendant in the garage area that the pumps aren’t working. He jumps up, runs to the back of the garage and apparently flips a switch… now we’re in business. (I know, dumb story, but I’m just setting you up for later).

It was good being back into the woods and mountains; shade was plentiful, water was never too far away and if you’re out in the middle of nowhere, at least you have mountains to keep you thinking about what was on the other side, whereas in the desert, if you’re in the middle of nowhere, you know it all too well.

Anyway, the trail makes a big loop around the north side of Crater Lake before heading out west to the coast. The area in between me and Crater is really nothing but logging roads. The GPS map of the logging roads looks like a broken car windshield. With my GPS routes not following the roads exactly, there would be many, many instances where I would have to stop and fiddle with the GPS to figure out which road I would need to take. So, I decide to create my own route directly to Crater Lake, avoiding as many highways as possible. The route that Garmin maps out for me looks very promising. Coming out of Lakeview, it overlapped part of the TAT and leads me directly into this semi-locked gate:



I could have opened it, but I believe it would have taken a couple pliers and it looked like it would fall apart. Not trying to mess with all that, the reroute was easy and it wasn’t too long before I was off the TAT and on my own route.

Ah, yes… now this is the Oregon I’ve been expecting:



The logging roads were fun, fun, fun. Twisty, fast, cool temperatures and fantastic scents coming from the surrounding evergreens and pines:



There are probably 1.2 million ways to get across Oregon with all of these logging roads:



One of those ways (which is marked on the GPS) lead me to the top of a mountain where a guy was cutting firewood (I think there are logging areas marked specifically for the public). It’s not surprising that this guy was cutting wood at this point because this is where the road ended. I talked with the guy and he mentioned that he thought a road “used” to go through this area too. He suggested I try the other side of the mountain. No problemo! Err, wait, maybe a slight problem:



I was just blazing my own trail through the wide array of ground cover and eventually hit a hidden brook where I would get stuck. Notice the bike is standing on its own, that’s how deep and narrow the brook was. I eventually muscle it out and continue making progress to the top of the mountain and find a nice two track trail. I was having a ball:



Hey, it’s Nevada’s state flower again, how lovely:



My own route was working out well:



…until I was forced upon the asphalt due to a totally incorrect road mapping on the GPS:



I try to get back on my route, even ignoring a “No Trespassing” sign:



This would lead me to a public recreation road. Later, about 5 miles into the trail, I would learn that it wasn’t intended for motorized use…whoopsie. There were many, many gates like the one below, locked on the left, open on the right:



Eventually, this trail would run over a paved road, so I figured I better take that rather than have some hippies tell me that I couldn’t ride my dirt bike on the bike path. Around this time, I feel my gear shifter starting to feel a little soft. Luckily it was only a loose screw. My first roadside repair after 4000 miles:



One more attempt at getting back on some dirt roads…locked, doh!:



I could have easily rode around, but this seemed to be private land, so I boogied on out of there and back onto the hard stuff:





On the outskirts of Crater Lake:



My GPS said there were two choices to reach the top of Crater Lake, a straight road and… a curvy road. Hmmm, tough choice, think I’ll pick the curvy road!



Unfortunately it turned into a foot trail 7 miles before the peak:



This truly would have been a riot had I attempted to climb Crater Lake by hiking trail, but I guess I’m too old for all of that nonsense. However, one day I do plan on coming back and climbing this trail, I have no doubt that it would be awesome.

All of those trees that I so heroically bypassed on the way up the trail, I would have to un-heroically bypass on the way down:



Even getting a little stuck once:



The sign says, “Snow Play Area”:



Soon afterwards I was getting close to the top of Crater Lake. It’s a shame that we have to fight traffic, get caught up in the rush of things and see so many tourists ambling about this uniquely beautiful area. I actually had one guy tailgate me around the rim road, Geez man! Enjoy the scenery why don’t ya!

But anyway, Crater Lake was truly awesome and well worth the hassle:





And, the area around the lake is just simply beautiful as well:



This is a place I could come back to many times over; I can’t imagine what went through the minds of the people who actually discovered this place. This was one of those rare instances where my high expectations were exceeded.

So anyway, I decide to take advantage of the campsites in the park (I’ve already paid my fees, may as well get my money’s worth out of it) and camp out for the night. Just as the sun went behind the mountains, the mosquitoes came out in full force. Out of all the places I stayed, the bugs were the worst here. I built a fire in an effort to fight back:



… but to no avail. So, I wiggled into my bivy sack before it got dark, tried to learn the French that was being spoken at the next campsite and eventually fell asleep. Stats:



Tomorrow I have ambitions of hitting the coast…

Total mileage: 4445
Daily mileage: 185
Wildlife observed: [forgot to write this information down for the day]
Favorite Sight: Is there any doubt? Crater Lake.
Favorite Scent: The evergreens and pines would put out all kind of combinations of scents. Riding through on a motorcycle is really the only way you can experience this.
Favorite Sound: Not realizing I was standing in a brook until I cut the engine off.
Favorite Taste: Unfortunately, instant oatmeal.
Favorite Feel: Riding around the rim of Crater Lake knowing that there is a wall of water on the other side waiting to burst out.
Ailments: ‘Skeeter bites.