It was another sunny Sunday and the smell of menudo cooking drove me out of the house and out on two wheels. I headed south through my usual off-season route to Silverton. But instead of stopping for lunch I continued on until I reached the tiny town of Scio.

There were a lot of riders out but not a single V-Strom could be found other than my own. The more miles I put on this bike (I’m at 10,000 now) the more I love it. It’s performance and comfort far exceed it’s very meager cost. Every time I go on a day ride like today’s I yearn for my first big trip of the year. I’m not sure where I’m going on the first trip, but I’d imagine it will be the southern Oregon and northern California coast. The redwoods are fantastic and I don’t have to ride over any mountain passes to get there. Other than a very high likelihood of rain I don’t anticipate weather being a factor.

Mike and I spent Saturday on a loop trip to Astoria and back.

It was clear but cool when I left my house in Sandy at 7:40AM. I got to Mike’s house in Scappoose an hour and 10 minutes later. We checked out his new bike, a 2005 Suzuki M50, dubbed “Big Red”, then headed over to the gas station to fuel up. Because it was still cold and we were leery of hitting icy spots, we decided to take Hwy 30 up the Columbia to Astoria, then loop back through the coast range through Jewel and Mist instead of the other way around.

Within 20 miles of Astoria we hit some drizzle but it wasn’t much to worry about. Mike and I pulled into a small state park overlooking the river for a bio break. We were getting hungry and lunch time was approaching so we decided to stop in Astoria for some grub.

Stephanie’s wasn’t too busy when we parked our bikes and headed inside. Astoria was overcast and there was an occasional mist in the air. Mike ate a Reuben sandwich and I ordered biscuits and gravy. The food was adequate but not overwhelming. Our waitress looked like Laverne’s friend, Shirley, and the other waitress was probably a meth head based on the fact that we couldn’t understand a single word she said, and everything she said was funny enough (to her) to warrant laughing out loud.

Two older guys came out of the restaurant as we were gearing up to head out and chatted with us quite a while about our bikes. One made the audacious claim that he had recently purchased a 1994 BMW RS1100 in excellent shape for a mere $1,000. If that was true I wonder if he could get me a good deal on some beach-front property in Aspen.

We had more mist on our face shields as we turned inland and headed into the coast range. Highway 202 was very bumpy and rough, with lots of gravel in the roadway. The damage from recent storms was evident everywhere. We could see where creeks had risen above their banks and flooded surrounding areas. The riding was slow because of the road conditions but we took our time and maintained a good pace.

Eventually we made it to the Jewel elk viewing area and were not disappointed. There were probably 50-60 elk in the field, half bulls in the velvet and the other half cows. We snapped several pictures, then continued eastward.

By the time we got back to Scappoose we had dry pavement and clearing skies. Mike’s fuel light came on and I was getting tired, so we parted ways after a handshake and a “Great ride!” His loop was roughly 180 miles and mine was approximately 275 by the time the day was done.

When I rode to work today it was 26 degrees outside with a slight cross wind. The calculated windchill was approximately 1 degree, give or take. At that temperature frostbite can begin setting in within 30 minutes.

The only part of my body that felt cold was my eyebrows. Yes, my eyebrows. My HJC modular helmet lets a sliver of air come in from the top of my face shield and it hits me right above my eyes. My Aerostich Darien jacket, Fieldsheer pants, and Alpinestar boots did a great job keeping their relative body parts comfortably warm, as did my generic Gore-tex ski gloves for my hands.

I was able to get on the bike and ride this weekend. For those that live out of the area, the Portland metro area has two kinds of weather in January. It’s either gray, gray, gray and raining, or it’s clear blue skies with a bitterly cold east wind.

Except Sunday.

Where I live in Sandy, we had clear blue skies but no wind, and the temps were in the upper 40’s. I left the house and headed south through Estacada and through the hills toward Molalla. Just as I reached Colton, a dozen miles outside of Molalla, I rode under clouds. Once I hit Molalla, I was in a cold fog that formed a mist on my bike’s windshield. I even had a few rain drops on my face shield.

I made it Silverton with cold fingers (I was wearing my medium gloves, not the cold-weather kind) and was pleased to see the Silver Creek Coffee House was open. Once my belly was full of ham sandwich and Tuscan white bean and chicken soup — plus the requisite mocha — I remounted and headed back the way I came.

The only frustrating part of the trip, other than some cold fingers, were the obliviots that think it’s okay to drive their Buicks 35 mph in a 55 mph zone. They probably think they’re being safe. Ha! If they only realized just how disruptive they actually are.