The long way home…
Odo: 4161
10-Sept-05 20:50 McMinnville, OR.
Light rain and 64° as I roll north. Today was my first ride in the rain. I left home around 13:00. An A-10 and P-51 fly a tight formation above me as I roll out. The Air Show is back in town.
Rolling hills green and brown, turn monochromatic as the cloud base touches the Coastal Range. Gray with rain, my destination resides on the other side of that angry vision. Over the hump, following the scenic loop, I drop into Laurelwood. Through the valley, I hug the shoulder of terrain. Twisting and turning the road hovers above the fields. Somehow, I evade the hardest rain as I travel through the valleys and make my way to McMinnville.
…
My tasks completed. Where will I go? North and home? South? East? West? Yeah, west. Through the rain, to the Pacific. I’ll take the long way home…
Carlton, OR. Turn left to drive through downtown… The main road turns right a few blocks away. But not me. I continue straight, into the darkness, into the mountains…
I overshot a corner in the rain, a freshly paved left hander, lacking stripes and trees to guide me. I jumped off the pavement onto a dirt road. Mmm… I like this bike. I turned around with loose gravel flying, and returned to my chosen path. Doing only 30 mph it sounds more dramatic than it really was…
Black curves. Trees arching over the surface. La Luna hidden. The pavement ended as I entered some sort of refuge or rec area. I kept going. I know where this road ends on 101. My body temperature was dropping. The muscles in my shoulders started to cramp. Too many layers restricting my movement. As my toes turned blue. LOL Time to get the power socket and heated grips installed.
101. South to catch the Three Capes loop. Food at Pacific City at the only open place, Pelican Pub. Really good Halibut, BTW.
Out in to the void. I crest a ridge, knowing the ocean is immediately on my left… I see nothing. Not a boat. Not a marker bouy. Nothing. North it is. I roll on. Rock slide. Not a problem for me, since I only need a foot of pavement, but the two trucks I just passed might feel differently.
Back on 6, I plunge into the mountains again. The temperature has risen. In places the pavement is dry. I love ripping throught the mountains. Coming back from Tillamook. The road is usually open and smooth. My mood relaxed. I want to get home, to warm up, to see my furry children, to sleep in my own bed. A few more miles to home…
13:25. Home. Cold. Tired. Sore. Alive. Only 200 mile today, I must be slacking! Now, I need to wash the sand off of my bike.
