Today is our last day on the motorcycles since departing Olympia, WA, three weeks ago. It has been a great, albeit somewhat arduous adventure, especially for mature gentlemen such as ourselves. But, we are thankful for the opportunity to be able to do it, and pretty much loved every minute of it.
We left Kamloops this morning under clear skies with temperatures in the low sixties and only a slight breeze, perfect for motorcycle riding. To make it even better, today is July 1st, Canada Day, a national holiday. We have the six lane freeway departing Kamloops toward Vancouver, BC, all to ourselves. It is the best road that we have ridden on thus far in Canada or Alaska. Adding to our security is an eight foot fence for miles along both sides of the highway to prevent errant deer, elk and other of nature's critters from running out of the bush into your path in an apparent attempt to end their life and ruin yours.
The scenery is nothing short of spectacular with its rich green forests, glacier cut mountains and valleys and fast-flowing rivers cutting ever deeper into the landscape. Regrettably, there are no pull-outs to stop and take photos. I guess you'll just have to take my word for it. In other words, you should have been there.
There is one blight on the land however, several forests have been decimated my the notorious Pine Bark Beetle. They will infest a pine tree and eat it until the tree is dead. There are thousands of acres of dead pine trees as a result. Lumber companies are attempting to harvest some of the dead lumber, but the damage is extensive and widespread. We made similar observations in British Columbia during our 2008 journey to Fairbanks, AK , from Los Angeles. There doesn't seem to be a solution for the problem. It looks like it's going to be up to Mother Nature to resolve this.
The mountain passes are not very high, maybe 4,000 feet or so. But, every time we crested a pass the temperature would drop to the low fifties and we would occasionally be poking our heads into the lowering cloud deck. At times, it was difficult to determine whether we had more fog on the inside of our face shields or the outside. Breathing in the cold mountain air would tend to fog up the inside of our face shields, requiring us to open them to defrost occasionally. Eventually, the clouds turned to our favorite mountain riding condition--rain. Not!
After about 150 miles of riding in the cold rain and fog we rolled into Abbotsford, BC, and followed my GPS to the Sumas, WA, and the US border crossing. How did we ever find anything before GPS? Oh yeah, that's right, we had maps. I still carry them; call me old fashioned.
The US Customs agent recognized our bikes as Kawasaki KLRs and seemed more interested in how and why we lowered our moto-cross type front fenders than our citizenship status. We explained that the purpose was to keep mud out of the radiators. Then he wanted to know who made the fenders and the fork braces. After that, it was, "Are you carrying any fruit or plants? Nope? Have a nice ride." It's always a good feeling to get back on American soil.
Then, it was south through Seattle and on to Olympia, arriving about 3:00 pm after about 354 miles. We loaded the bikes on the trailer, said good bye to Terry and thanked him for storing the truck and trailer. As it was still pretty early, we elected to drive for a while before settling down for the night. Two hundred and eighty miles later we finally gave up in Roseburg, Oregon, at about 9:00 pm, where we had supper and a nice bottle of Oregon wine at the only restaurant in town that was still open.
Tomorrow we're going to try to make a Banzai run home to Santa Clarita, CA, some 754 miles to the south.
The photo of me holding holding a yellow rag is purely symbolic. That rag was given to us at our first overnight stop in Cache Creek, BC, by the motel owner to wipe down our motorcycles. We carried it on the entire trip using it to clean windshields, helmets, glasses, wash the motorcycles, stem the flow of blood from skinned knuckles and just about anything else one could possibly use a rag for. It got washed with our clothes several times. It affectionately became known as the "Cache Creek Rag." Kind of sounds like a catchy tune from the 1930's doesn't it?
Here are a few pictures from today's travels:
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