LoveLetter to Oregon: A girl alone, a rented WeeStrom & a roll of stolen toilet paper

It was bound to happen...but on tarmac?


I stopped at the stop sign, pulled the camera out of my left pocket (where it is always stashed), and turned to the right to take a picture of the street sign. I do this a lot so I can re-map after the fact.

And then I felt the bike start to go over, over, over, over to the left.

I'm a scrawny girl. I dropped the camera (lanyard so it doesn't fall), and tried, tried, TRIED so hard to hold it up with my left leg. C'mon going to the Planet Fitness, I need you NOW.

But no. Not meant to be. I just sorta laid the bike on its side.

I skipped over to the side of the road, pulling off my gloves and helmet. I sorta stood there.

I walked back over to the bike, and imitated that stupid Harley YouTube that guys always link to to show how easy it is for a girl to pick up a heavy bike. I hate that video. Whenever I drop my bikes, and it's quite often, it's usually on some precarious slippy slope of rocks, mud or roots. Even this was on a steep angle.

But oops, the bike started slipping backwards. Duh! I crouched down, and using my right hand, pushed the shift lever down into first gear.

All the while, cars, trucks and caravans are whizzing by on the big highway.

It only took about 3 or 4 tries to get the bike up. I was so proud of myself. Thank god for those Pelican cases.

Um, did I mention, no one stopped? Even a truck with bikes in the back. Bahstahd.

After running around and getting pictures of the bike back upright, I climbed back aboard. It was at this point that a guy in a pick-up with an ATV in the bed stopped to ask if I was ok. How random, I thought, 'cos he wouldn't have seen me all crouched over, yanking and groaning to get this 500 lb back upright.

Back in action!


The most ridiculous part of this is that I dropped the Transalp in a very similar situation on the backroads of Connecticut, on my way back from a meeting up at UMass. Off-camber stop sign.

Tarmac is not my friend.

Continuing along my way toward Detroit.




This seemed like a nice road on the map...


I pulled out my map again and did some quick rerouting. Note to self: don't stand randomly on a bridge, deep in study of a map, 'cos a Subaru may come barreling down the road and scare the shit out of you.

My reroute is already looking good




I love that the ridge roads are only one truck wide. Keeps you on your toes. And no, you can't just become complacent, thinking, 'oh, it's a Tuesday afternoon and it's pissing down with the rain. No one will be out here." Because I did come across a pick-up on this road. Good hunters killing all the deer so motorcyclists are safe.




Isn't this amazing? The moss is outta control. How ya gonna use that to guide yourself outta the forest now, smartass Boy Scout?


The trees were crazy tall. It reminded me of Mast Road out in Plymouth, named for the super-tall, straight trees used to make ships' masts.


Such a nice road. No one around, rain stopped pounding, and I have no where I need to be. Ahhhhhh.


My very favorite kind of riding. I don't need no stinkin' stick farm. I love my easy double track. You know why? I can look around at stuff instead of all my concentration and energy going into just riding. Not that I don't like that, too, but there's something to be said for just be-bopping riding.


Oh my god, what IS that? I heard a rumor that the sky can be blue.


Gaaaah, just gorgeous. And it's not raining on me.


I know, I know, lots of random shots of wilderness with the bike. But it was early afternoon at this point, the rain had stopped, and I was having a lot of fun riding the ridges. Challenging enough in spots that you have to pay attention, but not so much that you can look around.


What is that bright light? Look away, look away Nosferatu!


I like this picture because it makes me feel all badass. I'm all alone on some random ridge in the middle of fuck-all nowhere on a giant bike and I'm still not hurt. That's pretty amazing for day 4.




Guard rail? What are we, a nanny state?


Pee break! I'm so glad I actually schlepped into the woods 'cos a Subaru drove by. Now that woulda been sumtin'


Down the ridge now, lower ground


This picture doesn't capture how amazingly beautiful this stretch was. The sun was STREAMING, BEAMING, SCREAMING through the trees. It was magical. I was so excited and yet calm as I rode this section. I'm sure I was grinning ear to ear.

Wow nice !
Im in love with you
I had to work today
wish I was riding with you instead

I was thinking about moving over there just because I can get a new plated two stroke ktm 300xcw and ride Gifford Pichot singletrack until I drop

I made it to the booming metropolis of Detroit. Why Detroit? Well, 'cos a bunch of folks told me to go to Detroit. To this day, I don't know why. I obviously missed the charm.

Detroit has a gas station, two markets, a hotel/restaurant, and a state campground on the lake. This is a draw, I'm sure. But the town. Hmmm.

First I headed to the ranger station. Do you see a pattern? The guy ranger was kind of weird. I walked in and asked if he was <insert name here> because the nice lady ranger down in McKenzie gave me his name. I asked him about camping and showers cos I had yet to take one. I'm ok with not taking showers, but tomorrow I was flying back to PVD and I had a middle seat on the plane :eek1

He told me I could use the shower "out back" of the conference room. I thought this was exceedingly nice. But after a few minutes, he finally understood that I was not an employee of the USDA, but just some random chick from Rhode Island looking to camp. I have no idea why he was so confused. Maybe because I spent 4 days alone?

Anyway, he told me that I could go to the state campground to shower. And I could camp in the dispersed sites along Route 46, which was closed due to the horrible forest fire earlier in the fall.

I headed back into Detroit (seriously, if you blinked, you'd miss it, and I'm from a small town) to grab some tomatoes for dinner. Lemme tell ya, the market was VERY interesting.It feels like the kind of place where your not safe from your cousin, if you know what I mean.

Out in the parking lot, as I was saddling up, a guy in the pick-up next to me struck up a conversation. He was very chatty, and it was a good convo. People really are nice when you're alone.

I even got the lady at the gas station to get off her cellphone.

I headed up route 46.

And here's the problem. It was only about 3:30 pm. Too early to stop.

Doom. This will be doom.

The ranger had said his favorite spot was about 1 1/2 miles up the road on the right.

So I rode on, following the river.

And then I spotted it. A dirt road up to the right with a fire pit right at the roadside. I passed it.

I rode up the road a bit and turned around.

Coming back, to make the left, I missed the turn again (and I was looking for it). This should have been an omen.

But no, I turned around again.

There was my road.

Forest Road 091


It looks like normal people just camp by the roadside (it's not a busy road despite how nice the pavement is).

But I took the road up.

And up.

A little ways up I thought to myself, "Uh oh, this is like that road in Tennessee." I turned around on that "road" on my TE610 because I was alone (and without my gear which was back in base camp).

And here I was. On a similar "road" on a bike that is 200 lbs heavier with all my gear.

I said to myself, just keep going up until you can find a turnaround spot.

And I tried. I really did.

I was standing, I was in first gear holding the throttle open, ready to work the clutch. I really was doing it right.

But then the bike started to slip backwards down the "road" in the mud and pine needles.

I knew I had to get my feet down and stop because the left was a sheer drop-off.

The rear tire came up against a large rock and over, over, over the Wee went. There was no way I could I have held this.



This picture does not do this justice. It was CRAZY steep and muddy.

I tried so hard to get the bike upright. I dragged it, I pushed it, I tried so hard. But there's a bigass rock on the other side of the bike that I couldn't move, and the slope if the hill was just too much.

I tried so hard.

I walked to the bottom of the "road" and waited for a car.

Of course the car I stopped, the first one in about 10 minutes, was an older couple. I explained what happened, and the man asked if maybe he could help upright the bike.

I looked at him. The hike up the bike was exhausting (I was out of breath each time I walked it, and I'm not that out of shape), and then heaving and hauling, no way.

I asked if they had service, which they didn't. But they said they'd call non-emergency when in Detroit.

My thought was, there HAS to be a volunteer fire department. I just need two of their guys to help me. If I was back in my hometown, that's how we'd do it.

I waited, and waited, and waited by the side of the road. It was starting to get dark.

I had gone back up the hill a bunch of times to try, yet again, to get the thing uprighted.

I was very sad.

I stopped another car, after waiting an hour with no help, and asked if they had service.

Of course my voice was loud because I was sorta freaking out. And naturally, it was a mom and daughter with a little baby sleeping in a car seat in the back. They're all shushing me and I'm like, WTF?!

But they called the police, and yes, indeed dispatch was sending some kind of aid.

Sigh.



Still doesn't do justice. I HATE THOSE TIRES.

Standing by the side of the road, waiting. Hmmm, this is odd.


Eventually, and get this, a TOW TRUCK arrives. A tow truck?!

At least the guy was cool. We hiked up the hill and somehow scrawny ass me and a 59 year dude got the mighty Wee back upright.

He looked at me and said, "You ready to ride it back down?"

Gulp. I hadn't considered this. There was no way I had any confidence to do that.

Believe it or not, he got on the bike and, without starting it, rode it down, riding the rear brake, me running behind it, steadying the back. (He did mention that he'd ridden dirt bikes as a kid.)

I was so grateful.

And here's the problem.

I had gotten really hot because hiking up and down the "road" was exhausting. I was only wearing my thin little woolie shirt. And it was actually kinda cold. You know that horrible feeling when you're all clammy and hot, but it's cold out. And what that does to girls, right?

So I was so happy he helped, I gave him a big hug. When I pulled away, I saw that look. Ugh.

As he went back to the truck to write up the paperwork (yes, I had to pay for all this ), I pulled on my puffy jacket and zipped it up because, really, yuck.

Let's just say, it got weirder.

But I was on my way, with a little bit of daylight still, to try to go find a place to set up camp.

I found a nice pull-off that didn't involve precarious hillsides. And of course it started to rain.

Yah, setting up the tent in the rain!

And making dinner!


Snug inside my cheapie Target tent


What more can one need? Maps, Hot Tamales and Teddy!


View the next morning from the tent


Route sheet (without changes, which there were many!)


I obviously survived to wake up the next day...on to Tigard to return the Mighty Wee!

SERIOUSLY?! Oh my gawd, I gotta come back. Who knew?!

Anyone got a Husky TE610 they'll lend me? Or a DR350? I gotta conquer that damn FR 091!

This is a great report and I love your perspective on the problems at hand! Keep it up!!

Wednesday, October 22
Gotta return the Mighty WeeStrom to MotoQuest in Tigard by 5:00 pm today, and then head to the airport for my flight back east.

But alas, it's early! 7:30 am! And there's rain in which to ride!

The rain today was the heaviest it's been. I wasn't really surprised as I was also the farthest from the desert I'd been, and in the heart of all the Cascade national forests.

My campsite was actually quite nice.


Nice white noise all night


All alone, yet so close to the roadway. Because the road is closed up a way (about 28 miles up) due to the horrible Clackamas fire in September, the traffic was non-existent.



Tucked away, safe & sound


That'll wash right off


Breakfast! Farina, bacon and coffee. And no, I didn't run the stove inside the tent.


So, the TOILET PAPER. This was the first night camping not at an official (closed) campground. I could have done the cushy thing and stayed at the state campground, but that was like $15 and this spot was free (except for the tow truck fee ).

I finally got to break out my stolen-from-the-Portland-Hilton TP!

After packing up, I headed over to the Detroit Lake State Recreation Area. I paid 2 bucks for a shower. Well, well worth it. I think I was stopped almost an hour. I spread all my crap on the big bench in the ladies' shower, plugged everything that needed charging into the GFCI, and proceeded to take a very, very long, HOT! shower. I definitely used more than $2 worth of propane.


It was about 10:00 am now. I was aiming for Tigard around 4pm. That six hours time in which to goof around.

French Creek Road (NF 2223)


This girl's favorite sign


Despite the really bad weather, I couldn't resist a couple more ridge roads.




Now imagine this.

It was POURING with rain. I was wearing my thick heated gloves AND my rubber overgloves. And this is the roadway? What was I thinking? I was thinking one word: FUN


Could this be a monolith


It was really foggy and creepy. I was having to keep my shield cracked open which got my glasses all wet. It didn't even really bother me because I knew I was heading back into civilization where I could wash my hands with hot water.




I didn't take many "moving" pics because it was so rainy that the lens on the camera would get all splattered, yielding crappy pictures.

The roads were kinda scary up here. Narrow, slippy, wet, with very limited visibility. I was laughing a bit as I had the DeLorme tracker on, and was thinking, man, they must think I suck as I'm going so slowly. But I didn't want to fall off the side of the mountain. I saw that in Colorado. That was super-scary.





Much better than those crowded waterfalls along the Columbia River Gorge Road. I had this all to myself.


Down off the ridge, the road was just a regular gravel road leading into a recreation area.


My route was supposed to be a big circle, up a bunch of ridges, and then spit me into onto tarmac on a "backway" to Tigard that the weird man ranger gave me yesterday.


I wound up in the Opal Creek Scenic Recreation Area, which was no where on my route. Lost again, go figure.


Sucks being lost


I wound up riding in and out of storms. Off the ridge, obviously, it was much better, just sprinkling.


My own private waterfall. It was so powerful that I was getting sprayed with mist like at Niagara Falls.


A beautiful side effect of all the rain

Pee break along FR 2207. Cool turtle rock.

I spent some time staring at the maps as I was no where near where I was supposed to be. Sigh.


How nice is this?


Eventually FR-2207 spit me onto N. Fork Road. Although tarmac, it runs along the Santiam River.

And we all know that roads that include words like river, creek, pass, crooked, gorge, swamp are gonna be good roads!

More weird, random burning.


That's smoke, not rain clouds, rising up from the burning roots and logs.


Bonus! Road work gave me some thick gravel to plow through.


I eventually would up in the WillAMette Valley, which is Oregon's wine region (as well as other agriculture). I tried to get pics of the rolling fields, but the dark sky messed up the camera and everything came out dark.

An odd thing, when I was at the conference in Portland, was that each lunch salad had a side bowl of filberts. Now, I absolutely LOVE filberts, and these were pre-shelled, but I thought it an odd choice of salad nut.

Then I rode by a filbert farm. Ahhhh, I get it now.


I'm riding along and all of a sudden, I come upon a Willkommen in Mt. Angel sign.

Willkommen?




Huh? This was a lumber factory. Why on earth does it say Der Weingarten? What kind of weird place have I stumbled upon?


I rode down a side street and ALL the buildings had German names written in that crazy Gothic script that my German professor in college made us read Mein Kampf in. Nothing like sitting on the bus riding out from Manhattan to Queens reading Mein Kampf in Gothic script as we're passing through Forest Hills.

Um, I'm STILL in Oregon.


There's even a Maypole decorated with the type of work that the folks who live in Mt. Angel do. I think I found the town I should move to.


As I entered town, I had seen a sign for a monastery. I was running a bit later than I wanted to as I wasn't sure what traffic would be like on the highway, but I just cannot pass by a monastery without stopping in.

I swung the Mighty Wee over the train tracks and onto the grounds of the Benedictine Sisters of Mt. Angel.


The sanctuary was up on the second floor of one of the buildings. I could not get over how simple it was.

The Bible was opened to Proverbs 15. I'm not religious, but I do work at a Catholic College so I'm surrounded by it all the time (even though the campus is accepting of all). I was taken aback, though.

Proverb 15:13
A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance: but by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken.

The reason I stop in churches is to light a candle for my brother who was killed way, way, way too early. But this church was so simple, there was no candle, just my silent thoughts. I felt like the Sisters would think of him. I know, weird. Sorry to get all weird. But I just wish he lived longer 'cos I know he'd love riding.


After writing a message in the prayer book, I headed over the Shalom Prayer Center because, c'mon, with a name like that, how can you not feel welcomed?

I picked up yet another St. Christoper medal and a bottle of Holy Water. As I was leaving, I bumped into Sr. Jeanine, the director. Unlike a lot of people when they see a wet motorcyclist, she didn't say something stupid like, "Oh, you must be wet." or "Not a nice day for a ride." She asked where I was riding from, and where was I headed. I commented on the simplicity in the sanctuary, and she laughed. "Oh, those churches back East can certainly be over-the-top." Too funny.

From Mt. Angel, I basically slabbed it back to Tigard on the interstate. It was a real rush going 70 mph in the pissing rain. I NEVER do that. I rarely ride interstates (although I've been known to ride the scooters for a few exits on I-95), and with the traffic, rain, fog, it was really nutty.

I was so wet and dripping all over the place when I got back to the BMW dealer in Tigard that I completely forgot the final shot of the bike.

In the breakroom, repacking everything for the plane


More German!


A bunch of the folks working came back to say hi, ask how the trip was, etc. It was really nice.


My parting gift to Ovi at MotoQuest and the staff at BMW of Tigard


And the toilet paper? I left it in the ladies' room at the dealership

My favorite of the big scoots, the BMW C600 Sport (in this color)


Ovi, who I completely forgot to take a picture of, was going to drive me to the MAX Red Line station so I could catch a train to the airport, changed his mind.

We threw all my crap into his car (complete with Vermont plates still) and he drove me to the airport. How freakin' nice is that?!

This time at the security check, I just took my pants off as I was standing in line. I'm sick of being patted down.

It was only after I got through the screening that I remembered I still had the bottle of Holy Water in my riding jacket pocket. Phew! Can you imagine having to pour that out into the waste bin?

The Portland airport is very smart. I was able to buy cider on the other side of the TSA so I could bring some home. Anthem, baby!

Lucky me got the middle seat all the way from Portland to Newark. The guy next to me was really cool, though, so we had a nice chat until I simply couldn't keep my eyes open.

Delayed outta Newark about 3 hours.


And finally, back in FRIARTOWN!

So, random thoughts.

All in all, just shy of 1,000 miles in about 4 days of riding. Pretty good for me as I rarely ride slab. Most of this ride was secondary roads, and gravel/dirt roads in the forests and desert.

MotoQuest was great to work with. Ovi really went the extra mile by bringing me to the airport.

The Suzuki WeeStrom is not my cup of tea.

Pelican cases are great. Waterproof and make it easier to get the bike up. But I won't have them on my bikes because of the possibility of injury. That one squirrly weirdness out in the desert, banging my left leg, was the proof I finally needed.

Rukka gear fucking rocks. I know it's expensive, but if you shop around, buy in the flea market, or get Isabella at biker-land.de to contact Rukka directly and sell you the prototype jacket , it much more affordable.

All boots will leak eventually.

Street tires on tarmac are fun.

Oregon is a really cool state. I love the different climates. When I got back, everyone at work was like, "Oregon has a desert?" I even had the Provost call me to ask about the trip. I should get a job for the tourist board.

People are really nice and friendly.

I like travelling alone. It's fun to have someone else, but the dynamic is so different. I liked having to think about no one but me.

The DeLorme InReach is the bomb. I loved being able to send texts no matter where I was so everyone knew I was ok. And I liked having that "protection" in case I met someone who wasn't so nice. Thanks Iridium satellites.

I'm actually not that bad of a rider.

I gotta get out there again.

Anyone got a TE610 I can borrow :eek1

for the record.

Yeah I'm sure you would've had much more fun on the TE610

Great report, thanks for writing that up!!!

I love riding in the PNW, need to spend more time in Oregon.

Thanks for the great RR! I ride that road quite often - you just need to consider those double yellow lines "advisory" - then you'll have fun!

Off topic, care to explain OPB? TIA

Great RR!

Way cool ride report. Thanks for sharing with us.

Finished my coffee and I'm in. Excellent RR.

LOL

I was at the Berkshire Big Adventure ride in May this year, and one of the guys I ride with, akarob, was feeling pretty good around the fire. He busts out with his adorable laugh and slurs, "You know what you are? You're OPB."

Had these made up. They're reflecty.


Because, well, I have a reputation for walking up to people and saying, "Can I ride your bike?" and I'm rarely turned down. I just went to look at a DR350 to replace the one I blew up, and I said to the guy, "Can I take it out for a while?" and even though his CL ad was all, you must show me a license, and have cash in hand, blah, blah, he didn't ask me for anything. He then said, "Wow, you have a real gift."

KTM 500


KTM 690 Enduro -- this was basically brand new


2006 Husqvarna TE610 -- I walked up to this guy at the gas station, under the false assumption he was with our group for the weekend, and said, "What does a girl have to do to ride your Husky?" He was so shocked, he said to come over to his campsite and he'd let me take it out. And he did! And then he and his friend left. They were from Pennsylvania. No idea who they were!


DRZ400E in Colorado -- the guy who owns this has let me ride all his bikes, including a big 1200 GSA and a Husaberg 570FE (after he crashed and I had to ride it home)


Vespa 300 GT -- I sourced this great deal for this kid, who is the son of the one of the profs I work with. He gave it to me for the weekend! This kid's brother had a brand new Monster 1200 he let me take out.


And there are many, many more.
I actually crashed a friend's wife's CRF230L and he still let me ride his V-Strom and TE310. He wouldn't have known but I didn't get all the weeds out of the rear wheel :eek1

And one time I was on a trail that smacked my ass once, and wanted to try it again. I was on a friend's 2008 TE610 and all the guys were on little bikes. At one point, one of the guys says, "You're the smallest person here on the biggest bike. We need to fix this." And three of us switched it up, Husky style. Ridiculous.

So, once again, anyone have an TE610 they'd lend me out there? You'll get a stickah

So I rate three OPB stickers?? nice RR