Thanks to everyone who emailed us while we were on the road. We are settling back into real life slowly.  Cleaning everything is priority at the moment. The bike stayed fairly clean thanks to Monica's nearly daily de-bugging efforts. Thankfully, Jami didn't schedule us to return to work right away to give us a little time to recuperate. Shame you have to do that after a vacation.

Only here can you see the amazing world premiere of:

Monica eats jam on toast!
and likes it....
That is all...now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

That's our cumulative miles. We're kind of sad to be home. It's really strange to come home after a month. The house seems so big.

We left San Francisco in the morning and stopped in Half Moon Bay and then headed to Santa Cruz, our final "fun" stop before getting home.

Street performers along Pacific Avenue

Another self portrait.

Monica cried when we pulled into the driveway at 9:30pm. I think she was happy that I didn't get us killed. I seriously think she never believed we'd survive 30 days on the road on a motorcycle. It was so much fun and we learned quite a bit. In fact, we made a list of things we learned.

Lessons from the Road

1. Do not reserve the cheapest motel in town by phone without seeing it
2. Yes, you do need a facemask
3. Never give all your money up front
4. Make reservations together
5. Do not attempt to camp without proper equipment
6. Free TV is not a modern motel perk
7. Neither is a "kitchenette"
8. Only eat ethnic food made by the corresponding ethnic group. French-Canadians cannot make Thai food
9. Sunscreen, sunscreen, sunscreen
10. Toilet paper is not a substitute for feminine hygiene products
11. Book your room early in the day
12. Befriend people in large vehicles before heading into inclement weather
13. Never check your tires without air being available
14. Winding gravel roads are not good shortcuts in spite of what locals say
15. Pretend you don't know the rules
16. Ask local shopkeepers where the best food is and don't go into a restaurant that is empty.
17. Try not to stare
18. Never, under any circumstances, alarm the driver!
19. The passenger WILL get motion sickness even if you don't.
20. Take the opportunity to visit friends and family. It could be the most rewarding thing you do.
21. Go ahead and shop. The postal service is your friend.
22. Split up for a couple of hours every few days so you don't kill each other

Today we filled our empty house with life again when we picked up our pets. We're not so sure Redford was thrilled to leave his posh quarters at the Cats' Nest. He bonded with Carolee. She presented us with a phenomenal photo album of all Redford's activities throughout the month. We're so glad he has a safe and happy home away from home. The dogs seemed pleased to see us. They've been at our feet all day. We picked up our 900 lbs of mail (junk mail) and I got a jury summons. What a great thing to come home to. Vacation really has ended. But, we are glad to be home safe and sound.

The Russian River runs through Guerneville

We made it to Guerneville for a nice breakfast at Pat's Cafe, but were there a little early to explore the shops.

Pigeon Point Lighthouse.

It got cold and foggy along the coast. We decided to head down Highway 1 and see what we could see and possibly spend the night in San Francisco. Monica remembered a hotel right off the Golden Gate Bridge where she had stayed during the AIDS ride. The best thing about it was there was a garage for the bike and it was close to the highway. Having our sleeping arrangements set up early in the day freed us up to explore the coastline north of San Francisco.

Monica took me to the little hippy town of Bolinas. The townspeople always remove the sign that says "BOLINAS 2 MILES" so that tourists won't find it. They treated us rather nicely. I thought they were going to be weirdos like the Murray people, but they didn't seem to mind our presence.

Someone has a sense of humor...or not

An artsy community

Bolinas Gallery

Monica's glad they didn't poison us at the cafe

Bolinas is right across the water from San Francisco, but it's a long way around via land. It was too foggy to see the city from Bolinas.

By the time we reached San Fran, the fog had lifted.

We checked into our motel, rested, showered and caught the bus to our favorite Chinese place, House of Nanking, in Chinatown. There was a line out the door and the gruff chef was seating people. At the House of Nanking, you don't order. You tell the chef if you want chicken, pork or seafood and he brings you what he wants. It's always great. That's how I fell in love with the "chicken salad" he prepares. We stood in line with a couple of guys from Australia. One had flown into LA and his friend picked him up at the airport, drove him to San Fran via Big Sur and was now feeding him. The next day they were headed to Humboldt. Nothing like seeing all of California in 2 days.

On the way back, I started playing with the black and white feature of my camera.
Columbus Avenue, North Beach

The Carson Mansion in Eureka, California.

Ok, where was I? Oh, yes, getting drunk in Eureka. Humboldt county is so fun. We'll probably test positive for cannabis from the contact highs we've gotten just driving through here. Kidding. Don't test us. I got pictures online finally. So, go back and look at them. K?
Avenue of the Giants between Eureka and Legget, CA.

Had a beautiful ride through the Avenue of the Giants save for some moron in a jeep who doesn't know what a "scenic route" is when he decided he had to get around us going 75MPH. He peeled, skidded and nearly rear-ended us before I was able to move over to the side and let him speed on through. Stay on the freakin' freeway if you need to drive 75MPH.
Self portrait with timer:Take one

Ok, I think we got it right this time.

The ride from Legget to Ft. Bragg was extremely winding and narrow. When we reached Westport, Monica told me to STOP so she could rest. At least she didn't puke in a dumpster.

We stopped in Ft. Bragg and had lunch in a funky cafe called Headlands Coffeehouse where we met a guy with a raggedy hat that he had sewn Barrel 'o Monkeys around the rim and was riding a unicycle. He invited us to his show, but we had to move on. A few miles down the road we stopped in Montecito where we watched some English folk dancers perform in the street and walked around until nearly 6pm, ignoring our rule to be "settled" in for the night by 5pm. We still had a way to go to find a motel. My plan was to get to Guerneville and spend the night. I'd wanted to show Monica that town ever since I found it by accident 5 years ago.

California coast

Montecito, CA

Everywhere we stopped Monica would say, "Don't you just want to spend a week here?" Most places had a lot of charm and it was hard to cover so much ground. Always saying "next time."

We took SR 128, which turned out to be the road that never ended. It was also winding and narrow and I was hoping that Monica wouldn't have the urge to purge down my back. We finally stopped in Healdsburg and found a motel for the night.

Oregon Coast

We left Portland on Sunday morning and headed to the Oregon coast. We kept hearing about Newport, but it just reminded us too much of Pismo Beach so we cruised on southward.
Tavern in Newport, Oregon

It was foggy and cooler the first day and we spent the night in Yachats, a quaint little town.

Heceta Head lighthouse

We learned about how prisms create the bright lights from a lighthouse

Foxgloves along the roadside

Umpqua lighthouse, Oregon
Yesterday was much sunnier and we spent the day riding down the coast, visiting botanical gardens and lighthouses and spent the night in Bandon where we ate seafood at the Bandon Boathouse and were served dinner by the oddest looking waitress we've ever seen. She had the palest makeup with red lipstick and it looked like she'd gone to a 50's salon, had her hair put in rollers and had them rapidly removed and her hair sprayed into a high, blonde bouffant.

Today was cooler and foggy again.

The Patterson bridge crosses the Rogue River on the southern border of Oregon
We drove the rest of the Oregon coast and came back into California and went through the Redwood Forest.

Monica admires the redwoods
Tonight we are spending the night in Eureka, near the Old Town. We like it here and had a really great dinner at a place called Hurricane Kate's. Their drinks were out of this world and since we are in walking distance, we were able to partake. One drink and we are both trashed. Wimps.

I wish I could get a few pictures on here, but this computer won't allow me to do that.

We should be home sometime on Friday.

 

Wow, where did I leave off? Oh, yes, we had been windblown off the Columbia Gorge and took refuge in White Salmon, Washington. We had a very nice relaxing time at the White Salmon Inn with a killer breakfast the next day. We had a frittata and about 70 different pastries and cheesecakes to choose from. Too bad we couldn't try them all. Around 11am, our friend Kathy rode her bike from Portland to escort us over the bridge and went on  a ride with us. The bridge was just a little nerve-wracking, but the wind had died down considerably. I told Monica, "Look at the river now because it's the last time you'll see it from here again!" She peeked over my shoulder. "Yes, that's very nice. I never want to come here on the bike again!"

Mt Hood
Kathy led us up toward Mt Hood where the temperature dropped little by little. Well, not so little. By the time we reached the top and stopped for lunch at 6000 feet at Timberline Lodge it was in the low 40's, which is nippy on a bike. Monica continued to remind me that it was 15 degrees colder for her, which put her in the freezing range, but I reminded her that she was 15 degrees cooler when we went through the 102 degrees in British Columbia. She's arguing with me now about that point.

Timberline Lodge
Anyway, we had a nice lunch at the lodge with Kathy and then she led us into Portland where she and Susan welcomed us into their home with their canine buds, Jessie and Mattie. Mattie, I am quite sure, is the cutest dog on the face of the earth, barnone.

We had a good time with her. Kathy and Susan made us  a nice homecooked meal.

The following day, Kathy had to work and she let us take her car into town to explore Portland. The first thing we did was go to the Wingman to get an oil change. Kathy had set us up an appointment with her mechanic who referred us to the team at Wingman. What a great group of people. We had a great time talking to them and they showed us all the toys we could get for our motorcycle. I broke down and bought a face mask so that it wouldn't rain on our trip anymore. As we were leaving, John, the owner, came out and invited us to join their GWRRA group for breakfast in the morning. Since Kathy and Susan were having a yard sale on Saturday morning, we thought it would be a great opportunity.

Afterward, we went back and got Kathy's car and Monica drove to give me a break from behind the wheel. We had a good time exploring the neighborhoods and visiting the Rose Garden.

Monica poses with the roses

Monica's favorite rose

Monica loved the Alphabet district with all its cool shops and coffeehouses and lots of trees. Growing up in LA, Monica wasn't used to trees. The strangest thing is that as Monica was on her way to the post office to mail home a pair of pants she purchased when a car pulled up right in front of her and a guy stepped out of the car that she recognized. It turned out to be Don, a guy we met on the Green Tortoise trip to the Yucatan last March. He is the only person we knew from Portland and all of a sudden he appears in front of Monica. Even stranger was that he said he never parks there. Talk about Synchronicity.

Portlander humor

On the way back to Kathy's we got incredibly lost. We wandered back and forth over the river 800 times until I was so carsick that Monica had to pull over so I could barf into the dumpster. It was the highlight of my trip. Finally, we called Susan who told us to stay put and she'd come and rescue us.

On Saturday, we joined the GWRRA group for breakfast. They have a huge, active group and we had a lot of fun meeting new people and seeing other people's bikes. We met a guy named Larry who had a platform on the front of his handlebars to hold his Dachshund, Oscar, as he rode his motorcycle. We were amazed at how Oscar could hold on and not fall off the bike. After breakfast we explored Portland's Hawthorne district and then met Kathy and Susan for dinner. They took us to a really cool place called McMenamin's, which was the old poor farm turned into a brewery/winery. We had a great time in Portland and really want to thank Kathy and Susan for their hospitality and generosity.

Wednesday, July 5 Day 21

It definitely looked like rain when we got ready to leave Leavenworth, but cleared up by the time we actually left, much to my relief. We got back on SR 97 and headed south. The road was nearly perfect: smooth, winding, not very busy. We pretty much skipped breakfast thinking we'd get an early lunch. We were heading toward Yakima, Washington and got sidetracked in the small town of Ellensburg trying to locate an adjacent road aside from the freeway. I made a wrong turn and we wound around the town, both of us getting a little frustrated. I turned down one side street to head in the general direction from where I'd come and we stumbled upon a house that was decorated like nothing I've ever seen. This is what we found: Dick and Jane's Spot. We spent an hour looking at everything. We always find the most interesting things when we are lost, irritable and hungry. It's weird. We could not have found this place if we looked for it and if I hadn't taken a wrong turn we would never have seen it.

We found the road we were looking for after that and had a nice ride along the Yakima river all the way to Yakima. Yakima, I must say, offers very little to the weary traveler so we wandered around until we got back on the freeway and ended up in a a smaller town called Toppenish where we found a Mexican restaurant for lunch. The food was ok after we scraped off the block of orange cheese they melted over both of our plates.

My token picture of the Columbia River Gorge before Mother Nature tried to blow me away

After we left and headed south again toward the Columbia river gorge, I could feel the wind starting to pick up. By the time we hit the SR 14 along the gorge it was really windy. A few times I was really fighting the wind with the bike. I'd be ok for a while and then all of a sudden a gust would make us wobble and lurch. Not a good feeling. I drove a few more miles, but decided to slow down considerably which helped, but the gusts were pretty bad. Our intent was to cross the Columbia river and go to Hood River and spend the night. I was really reluctant to cross the river with the wind as bad as it was. At one point the wind was so bad that I literally felt like I had no control over the bike. I pulled over a wide shoulder and stopped. I told Monica, "Your trip is over."

"Thank you," she said. "What do we do now?"

I was hoping to at least get to some kind of town, but here we were pretty much out in the middle of no where, about 18 miles from the nearest town. I didn't think I could go any further. "We wait until dusk and see if the wind dies down." It was only 3:30pm. The wind was knocking us both off our feet and the 800 lb motorcycle was rocking in the wind. All I needed was for it to blow over to make my day complete. Monica sat down on the gravel because she couldn't stand up to the wind. I picked up a couple of potato-sized rocks and shoved them in her jacket pocket. "So you don't blow away," I told her.

Fifteen minutes past and we saw a beat up bile-green El Camino pull up behind us. We were a little scared until an elderly woman in a stained housedress leaned out and asked us if we needed help. "We can't go any further in this wind," I told her.

"What do you plan to do?" she asked.

"Wait for the wind to die down."

"Oh, that's not going to happen. It's been like this for days. I know it's hard. I used to ride an 1100," she told me. Then she offered to find someone with a truck to haul my bike to wherever I wanted. The thought of loading this bike into some local yokel's truck did not sit well with me. The potential horrors of that scenario played out in my head and made me shudder.

"No, I don't want to go through that trouble."

"Ok, well, how about if you follow me closely and it will help block the wind and I'll get you to the nearest town?"

None of my options were looking very good, but I agreed. She instructed me to follow closely behind her and she "promised not to brake." Terrific. I agreed, but didn't follow as closely as I think she wanted me to in case one of those big horn sheep should leap in front of her El Camino and she had to brake. I didn't want to eat her back window. She led us to the next town where we assured her we could go on by ourselves the next 10 miles to a town with a motel. She told us that next time we were in the area to look up "Aunt Jane." We thanked her and she went up her road to her mountain home while we set out to tackle the wind again. With the aid of a train that happened to be running along side of us at the same time, blocking the wind from the river, we landed in the town of Bingen, just across the river from Hood River. We stopped in a local pub for a Coke to contemplate what to do. Monica was getting nervous that I was reconsidering going over the bridge. There was no place to stay in Bingen. My option was to continue another 17 miles down the river to another town or to cross the 3 mile river bridge and get to Hood River. The bridge was grated, I knew and that is no fun even on a calm day with a motorcycle. It's like walking on ball bearings. Grated bridge, 50MPH crosswinds. Big fat cold, deep river. 6:00 news. "The Coast guard is still searching for the bodies of two California women who were too damn stupid to stay off the bridge this evening....."

As I was finishing off my Coke, Monica discovered an ad for a hotel in White Salmon, cleverly named The White Salmon Inn. Where is White Salmon? Hey, wait a minute. That sounds suspiciously like White fish Motel!! 

A reprieve from the wind.

We find out it's a mile and a half up the hill from Bingen! Woo hoo! Quick. We must check it out. Monica calls the hotel. The woman there tells us it's not windy there. Strange. We motor up the hill and find this oasis. Beautiful restored 1937 hotel, decorated with antiques, private room and bath overlooking the garden, hot tub, parlor, full hot breakfast with homemade pastries for breakfast. Nothing like the Whitefish Motel. We settle in and think about the fact that we may be stranded forever by the wind.

 

I've received a few emails wondering where we have been. Have no fear, we are alive and well. We just lost our internet access during the past few days. After we were talked into staying in Jasper through the weekend, we celebrated Canada Day with the locals.

Blending in with the locals

We attended the flag-raising ceremony, complete with bagpipes and Mounties, then enjoyed the parade in the afternoon. Later, we went to our new favorite pub, the De'd Dog and had Long Islands. We met a young couple with whom we chatted for a while.
They worked as medics on the oil rigs in Alberta  and were sharing their stories about jumping off 60 foot cliffs into the Horseshoe Lake for recreation. After dark, which was around 11:20pm, we watched the fireworks.

Sunday morning we left Jasper and drove through British Columbia. The morning started out cold as we drove through past Mt. Robson where we tried to stop for breakfast, but the only cafe in the area was inundated with Korean tourists and the cafe wouldn't cook for anyone who wasn't on the tour bus. So, we motored on into a town called Valmount where we stumbled into the Canadian Inn, a somewhat rundown hotel with a restaurant. How badly can they screw up breakfast? The manager had to wait on us because he sent his only waitress home to take care of her child because her husband was too drunk from the Canada Day celebration. After breakfast, we continued on and it got warmer and warmer. By afternoon, it was 100 degrees. The wind on your face isn't cool at that point; it's just an annoying blast of hot air. We pulled into a town called Vernon and Monica pointed out a casino. "They usually have cheap rooms," she said. I was hot, miserable and beat after 375 miles and didn't care. Normally, the rooms were $99 a piece, but they had 2 unadvertised rooms for $60 because they overlooked the pool. I didn't care. Oh, and by the way, there was a baseball team staying at the hotel, but if they bothered us we were to just let the front desk know and the security would quiet them down. At midnight, the partying was pretty loud. There's always one guy who is the most drunk and the loudest who has to be right outside your door. Monica called the front desk. All I heard her say was, "No, I am not moving to a new room. It's 1am. You've got to be kidding!" More raucous. Earplugs are now in place. The phone rings. There is no security guard. Muffled conversation. Click. Phone rings again. The security guard is on his way. Meanwhile, I'm pretty much asleep with my earplugs in. The phone rings again. "Sir, please do not call here anymore,"

The next morning it was already hot when we left Vernon. We crossed the border back into the U.S. into Washington. The first thing we saw was a taco wagon. South of the border has a new meaning. It was sweltering hot. We stopped to cool off and have a drink. We saturated our t-shirts with cold water and put them back on and wore wet bandanas around our necks. They were bone dry within the hour. We had a nice, but heated, ride down SR 97 and visited the town of Chelan, where Monica once took a backpack trip and met her friend, John. We cooled off there with a mango chai and stared longingly at the lake. We continued on and settled in a town called Leavenworth that Monica discovered before we left home. It's a quaint town set up like a Bavarian village. We scored a nice hotel room at the Der Ritterhoff. We walked into town and the first thing we saw were what we thought were big horn sheep on the side of the road. We started taking pictures and were stunned to see them so close to town, after seeing them out in the mountains. "Wait a minute," Monica said, suspiciously. "These are pet goats! They're in a fenced area!" We felt like total morons photographing someone's goats. We moved on as if nothing happened and walked into the Baron Haus where we shared a pork schnitzel and a beer. The town was relatively quiet for being a holiday, but, we thought, that most of the activity must have happened over the weekend. During the night, we were awakened by a wicked thunderstorm and an absolute deluge of rain.

We decided to spend the 4th of July in Leavenworth and arranged a short kayak trip down the Icicle river. We rented inflatable kayaks and spent a nice afternoon paddling. The river was only a Class I and we both thought we could have had more of a challenge. Near the end of the trip, the sky grew dark and it started thundering. We made it back to the room before it started really raining.

After Monica discovered that riding the Tram was only 7000 feet as opposed to 13,000 feet that she originally thought, she agreed to take a ride with me. She was afraid I would have trouble breathing, as I am apt to do when I am at high elevations. Yesterday evening we boarded the Tram and took a ride to 7500  feet where we could see the highest peak in Canada as well as gorgeous panoramic views of the area.

When we arrived at the top, there was music playing and the song was Tom Petty's "Free Falling" which made Monica a little more nervous. She didn't mind being up high. She just didn't care for dangling from a big string. Dangling from the string

 Sitting on top of the world!

Today we spent the day riding around, visiting various lakes and having a picnic along the river. We spotted some elk on our way back to our room. They were lying in some grass along the road and under some trees, creating a huge traffic jam through town. Naturally, we had to stop to see what all the fuss was about. 

This is just one of those guy's velvety antlers. They're huge He could hardly pick his head up.

This evening, we went back to the De'd Dog Pub and Monica had a Kokonee beer and I had a Long Island and we shared a huge plate of nachos for dinner. Monica delivers a toast to you.

Tomorrow is Canada Day. We're not sure what that means, but it seems to be a pretty big deal and everyone is preparing for a big celebration. We thought it best to stay put and party with the locals as opposed to wandering around looking for a place to sleep the next few nights. We have to head out on Sunday morning as much as we'd love to stay here.