Last Day Pains!

Home! Crater Lake, Oregon, to San Francisco, California

432 miles / 695 km

Wow, the last day sucked! It started out well enough though...

I woke up well rested. I love sitting in the morning at a campsite in peace and quiet. A lot of people pack up early and move out, or are gone for the day by mid-morning. It's nice and cool and there's no one around. It's nice to make some coffee, breakfast, and just sit there and chill out. Doing nothing. Yes.

It's always at this point I wish I had more time to stay in places longer. One thing about going to a lot of places in a relatively short amount of time, is that you are always packing up and moving. It's nice to be in a place for a few days and not have to do that. I'd love to have stayed in Banff a few extra days. Same with Jasper. I'd like to have stayed in Kelowna a few extra days! And Grand Teton, it really needed more time.

All this and more, I contemplated as I took my time on the last day. I was looking forward to getting home, but a bit sad it was all over too. I wonder where the next one will be? San Francisco to Argentina? Now THAT would be an adventure....!

The drive was nice enough winding down through the Cascades where they merge with the Klamath mountains. I knew however, once I got down into the Central Valley, the heat would rise. And boy, did it rise...

US 97, which I'd followed all the way down from Canada, joins Interstate 5 at the town of Weed, California. That was where "Hell" began for me. I've driven in heat before, but this was really, really, REALLY hot! It was also still fairly early in the afternoon, one o'clock or so, and I knew the hottest part of the day lay ahead.

As we wound through the mountains, I found anything less that 80 mph was not enough to keep cool. Traffic was moving pretty close to that anyway. It was really difficult driving - lots of big rig trucks, really barreling along, two narrow lanes through the mountains, and heat of 107F. The blacktop on the road was also really reflecting the heat into my boots. Add to that a major forest fire and reduced visibility, and parallel  "grooves" in the road which are a nightmare to ride a motorcycle on. It was getting really hellish.

It sounds funny now, and maybe a bit melodramatic, but honestly, my boots were getting to the point that my feet were starting to cook - literally. I was starting to get a bit alarmed. Listen, there is nowhere to pull off on this stretch, and if you stopped, you would not be able to stand on the ground. Your feet would get actually seriously burned. I was really getting worried.

I thought I might make it to Redding, and then realized I wouldn't be able to. I was really freaked out when i saw traffic backed up for miles on the other side of the road dude to some accident related to the fire. I thought, "If that happens to me, I'm screwed. I'll have to dump my bike and put on my flip-flops and walk. Shit! It will be terrible!!!"

Fortunately, that didn't happen and we kept moving through the smoke, although by now we were down to an unbearable 45 mph. An exit finally came up, with a sign for a gas station. I took it and literally drive straight across the road to the shelter of the pumps. There was a car in the way, but I literally drove right up against it and parked in a tiny bit of shade. I headed straight for the store and pounded down two big containers of Gatorade and a footlong sub sandwich (that was pretty uninteresting). I could't believe how much the heat was affecting me. I verified it was 107F. I had surely driven in that across Nevada and the Great Basin before, but this was way worse.

After about 45 mins I started feeling a bit better, but I realized I wouldn't be able to get home like this. I would have to either wait four or five hours for it to cool down - or get a new pair of shoes. Thank heavens for smartphones. Out with the trusty iPhone. I have used the TomTom US & Canada GPS app for the whole trip and, while sending me the wrong way once or twice, it has been worth its weight in gold.

> Navigate to
> Local search
> Search near me
> Google search: Payless Shoes
> Mt Shasta Mall, 900 Dana Drive, Redding = 7.2 miles

Off I went. I ended up finding a "Famous Footwear" next door to Payless, and the staff there were great. A few minutes later I was back on my bike with a pair of "ventilated runners" - ahhh the relief! I got back on the road. It was still horribly hot, but at least it was bearable now.

NOTE here on the BMW ComfortShell: It works really well until you approach 100F, then it doesn't work so well. If you stay hydrated you'll be okay.

I hammered it out until Winters. I stopped and again knocked down a double sized Gatorade followed by my favorite road drink Rockstar. I was pretty knackered at that point, but knew I'd be home soon enough. Back on the road, and as soon as I hit I-80 it was familiar territory: Vacaville, Fairfield, American Canyon. I stopped at that rest area near the top of American Canyon, and got a photo of the distant San Francisco Bay. Almost home! I could see the famous fog rolling in, and it was already cooling down, so I put on my inner liner jacket and I was off for the final stretch.

Bay Bridge toll plaza, Bay Bridge, Fremont St., and up Russian Hill. I stopped by Royal Grounds, visited with a few friends, enjoyed the self-congratulation. I was totally beat though and didn't last long. It was time to head home where a very excited four-legged creature was delighted to see me.Good to be home! :-)

Trip summary to follow.

Crazy Night at Crater Lake

The Dalles to Crater Lake - 257 miles / 413 km

NOTE: Written at Crater Lake, Wednesday, August 1^st  – the night after…

I still can’t believe it. There I was, in the middle of the night, hurtling up a dark dirt and gravel road, dodging deer, not knowing where I was going, but just continuing on, hoping for the best, hoping that something would show up. "Why am I doing this? I asked myself. "Is this really fun?"

It’s weird before you start out on these journeys. You can’t anticipate fate, the future. Last time out, two years ago, I nearly hit a very large deer at high speed in Nevada. That would have been curtains. I also had a close call coming off the George Washington Bridge in New York City. Before I set out this time, I said to myself, “I wonder what it will be?”

The day started out reasonably well. I left the Oregon Motor “Hotel”otel (the one with the unusable Wi-Fi) and headed out to take a look at the Columbia Gorge. I figured, hey I’m already in Oregon, I’ve lots of time. I probably spent a bit too long in the Gorge in retrospect. Also, on this trip compared to last, I’ve been reasonably careful to plan where I’m going to stay before I get there. I use hotels.com a lot on my iPhone, and it works out pretty well.

Camping is another affair. With the National Park Service you can only book two days out. A lot of times on these trips that is hard to do, because you don’t know where you will be for sure. Also, you don’t know if you will “feel” like camping, so…well, that’s how it is. Needless to say, didn’t have anything booked in Crater Lake, but all the literature and the blurbs I’d read said, “Generally not a problem here.” And so I figured I’d be OK. Riiiiiight….

The Gorge is a fairly impressive place itself. I decided to go down as far as Hood River. I met this nice Canadian couple from Victoria. We chatted for a bit and they asked me if I wouldn’t mind taking their photos and emailing them on. They were on bicycles and had no camera with them. They come down mainly for the windsurfing. Oh yeah, the wind: The Gorge is a very windy place.

It’s amazing really. The river is so enormous. It’s like a massive, but moving, inland sea. In essence I have followed this river and its tributaries all the way from the Canadian Rockies, Alberta, BC down through Kelowna, Okanaga, Dechutes, and finally the Gorge. Of course, after the Gorge, it runs into the Pacific Ocean, but that’s not the way I was headed.

I had a really nice lunch in Hood River (nice town, by the way) and I was off for Crater Lake.

It was a hot drive again at times, but also very pleasant up in the Cascades. I stopped in Bend, Oregon, to get a steak, asparagus, baked beans, ice for my mini-cooler bag, and a few other camping supplies, as well as gas up the bike. It seemed to take FOREVER to get packed up and out of that town.

Oh, also…while I think of it…Oregon is one of those stupid states where the attendant must man the controls of the gas/petrol pump for you. It makes stopping for gas more annoying – and longer – than should be necessary.

I got back on the road out of Bend at…gosh, I don’t know…I think it was 7:25 PM, or something. I can’t quite remember. The area near Crater Lake is pretty damn remote. My GPS had just switched to “night mode” when I stopped to put on warmer underclothes. Then it was dark by the time I turned onto Route 138. Let me tell you, Oregon Route 138 is one lonely straight road through nowhere. I was super-vigilant for wildlife. I didn’t see any. I also didn’t see any other cars.

I got to the turn-off for the remote North Entrance to the park. By now it was about 10 PM. I figured, “Okay dude, just hang on a bit longer…20 minutes and you’ll be at camp.” (More like 40 mins). There was nobody at the entrance, so I grabbed a few of the “newsletter” newspapers – one to read, and a few extra for starting a fire.

The road crept up and up. I kept it at about 30 mph, because honestly any faster and with the lights on the bike at night, you just won’t react in time. (Note to self: GET THE FUCKING PIA SPOTLIGHTS BEFORE YOU GO ON A BIG TRIP AGAIN!).

Suddenly, I rounded the bend, and there was Crater Lake. The moon was up, almost full, and there was this eerie lake, the caldera of a massive volcano 7,500 years ago, silently dark and reflective. It was very cold, there was snow on the sides of the road, but I tried to take a few pictures.

I kept going. Finally a sign: Mazama Village 12 miles. That’s 24 minutes at my speed. A car came the other way, and I dipped my headlights. Right as you do that, there is a “blind” moment when you can’t see a certain part of the road in front of you. I’m experienced in this, so I slowed right down. Just as well, because a small deer was crossing the road at that very moment on an intercept course, and I would have hit it had I maintained my speed. Nice one, Macker.

 I arrived at the campground in Mazama village. I was so looking forward to putting up my tent and getting some food! To my horror, the sign said “Campground Full.” I managed to get someone who was just finishing up for the day, and she handed me a sheet of paper with places to stay in Medford. Medford! That’ll take a couple of hours. “Are you shitting me?” She also told me of some “snow park” down the road where they were letting people camp in the parking lot. “About 10 miles away” she said. I shrugged my shoulders and headed that way.

I finally reached it, and saw a car or two parked there. I wasn’t really sure what to do. Camp here? Then I saw a sign for “Huckleberry Campground.” (I would find out in the morning that the sign actually read, “Huckleberry Campground CLOSED.” And that was the dirt road I headed up…

I had tried a little off-roading on the bike earlier that day near Hood River, and had gotten myself in a bit of a pickle. This road was worse, and there was nobody around. “Just a little further,” I thought, “It must be here.” Nothing. No campground. I felt if I stopped, I might drop the bike on the gravel/dirt/rocks, then I would be really fucked. I kept going. I remembered in Long Way Round, Charlie Boorman talking about standing up on the pegs when you’re off-roading. There was NO ONE around. I came to a fork in the road, and just instinctively went right. I got in further. Eventually there was a sort of clearing. A sign ahead warned of a “Very Steep Road” – gravel and dirt too, I might add.

I turned into the clearing, and a big tree was towering over an area that looked like it would be safe to camp. I got off the bike, got my headlamp out. It was QUIET. Not a sound. The odd rustle every so often when a deer would go by or something. It was scary if you thought too much about it. But I decided, this was fate, this was my lot, and so I setup my tent in the dark. I had some cheese and bread I’d gotten for lunch. I scarfed that down, got in my tent, put in my earplugs, and went to sleep.

I awoke to a mother deer and her little fawn looking over at my tent. They were wary of me, but seemed to sense I was okay. I talked to them in a soft voice. The little one scampered off after a bit, but Mum stayed around and I got a few shots of her.

The road didn’t look quite as bad in the morning. I stood on the pegs the mile or so back down the gravel to the main road. I decided to head back into the park and see if I could get settled into a proper campsite. I was keen to get out of the spooky one!

This post is getting a bit long, but I had to tell that story. You never know what life has in store. Long story short, I got a campsite for today, Wednesday and night in the park. I drove around the Rim Drive of Crater Lake. A beautiful place that must be seen to be believed. Again, I hope the pictures do it justice.

Tomorrow I head for San Francisco and home. More then.

Onwards!