I took a day ride on my 2007 Suzuki V-Strom 650 to Kinzua, Oregon (pronounced ‘kin-zoo’). Kinzua is an abandoned lumber community southeast of Fossil, Oregon. I used to hunt deer in the area with my father back in the early 1980s and wanted to go back to the area and explore around.
My intention was to ride the Kinzua Road (NF21) east from highway 19 to where it connects to highway 207. The maps and online resources said it connected and was open, and even the gas station attendant in Fossil said it was likely open. I rode east on NF21 to the location of where the community and mill site of Kinzua used to be, and spotted a small sign on the side of the road saying that access to hwy. 207 was unavailable.
No access to highway 207 from Kinzua, NF21, Wheeler County
I turned around and backtracked the 8 miles to highway 19, then headed south a few miles to have lunch at the Bear Hollow county campground (Wheeler County). The park was deserted, so I had it all to myself. After getting filled up with a lunch of dehydrated “breakfast skillet”, I backtracked my way westward to home.
Bear Hollow CG, Wheeler County, on hwy 19 south of Fossil, Oregon
Just west of Shaniko and riding northwest along Bakeoven Road, I noticed wildfire smoke in the distance to the west. I had just ridden from that direction that morning, and although I could smell a bit of wildfire smoke when passing through Maupin, I only saw a bit of smoke haze to the south, near Warm Springs. This fire was new since I had just passed that way a few hours before.
As I approached along highway 216 toward the community of Pine Grove, I could see that the fire was burning very close to the road. There were no roadblocks and I there were cars coming from the west, so I assumed the road itself was still open.
S-503 fire, along highway 216 approaching Pine Grove, Sat. June 19, 2021
Just west of Pine Grove, I stopped to get a photo and some video of the fire. I couldn’t see the flames but could see how they colored the smoke a deep orange. The fire seemed to be burning about a half-mile from the highway. I continued westward uninhibited and made it home after riding 360 miles for the day.
The news labeled it the S-503 fire, and said it had ignited Friday night. It had burned 4,000 acres as of this writing and was only 2% contained. The fire incident map shows it burning to the southeast into the Warm Springs Reservation. The town of Pine Grove is on a level 3 evacuation alert. If the wind shifts and blows to the northeast, that small community would be in its direct path.
Cathedral Rock along the John Day River near Kimberly, Oregon
I keep going back to central Oregon and route 218 between Shaniko and Fossil, so there must be something to it. Flawless pavement, well-banked corners, wide open scenery, no traffic — it checks all the boxes.
Since I began riding back in 2007, I calculated I have ridden the route from my home in Sandy, Oregon to John Day, which includes the amazing state highway 218 smack in the middle, more times than any other overnight route. Only my day rides to Detroit, Oregon on NF46 exceeds it in volume.
This latest trip was intended to explore a new road and to camp in a tent overnight before returning the next day. I had spotted South Fork Road, which follows the south fork of the John Day River south from Dayville, many times and have always been curious what it was like. It’s like a snake off it’s medication on the map, and I’m drawn to roads like that for two-wheeled travel.
The terminal destination was Pine Tree Campground, roughly 10 miles south of Dayville. I had no on-the-ground reconnaissance, just satellite photos and a few topo maps. When I got there, I realized it wasn’t going to work. The entire campsite was on a slope that made it less than ideal for a tent camper like myself. Further, the river was blocked by brush and there was no privacy amidst the few juniper trees.
I backtracked on the gravel road to Dayville, then took highway 26 east into John Day and checked into the Best Western. A hot shower and nap on a king sized bed felt a lot better than a hot and dusty campsite with a terrible view.
The ride itself was fantastic. It was windy and warm when I left my house, riding with the liner out of my Aerostich Darien jacket. It was a bit chilly when I got gas in Government Camp, but not uncomfortably so (I’ve ridden in 9 degrees Fahrenheit before, so cold is something I’m used to enduring). My route was familiar: highway 26 east, cut over to NF 48 via NF 43, past Rock Creek reservoir and into Wamic, then over to Tygh Valley and back up the hill and then down to Maupin on the Deschutes River.
2007 V-Strom 650 in Maupin, Oregon
I stopped at my usual convenience store in Maupin but it was “Closed 4 Now” — one of many such signs I saw on my trip. I backtracked to another store for a brief snack and bio break before heading up Bakeoven Road to the high, windswept prairie above.
Bakeoven cuts southeast to Shaniko. Here, I caught state highway 218 and about 50 miles of riding greatness. It passes through Antelope, made famous by the Netflix documentary “Wild, Wild Country” and then winds its way eastward through the Clarno Unit of the John Day National Fossil Beds.
Highway 218 between Antelope and Fossil is in two sections, one on either side of the John Day River. Both have sections of amazing twisties, perfectly banked and almost entirely free of gravel and other hazards. You climb up to a ridge line and look across a 20-mile wide valley with amazing hills in the distance. I literally said, “Holy crap!” in my helmet the first time I crested that hill and saw that amazing view, and to this day I am awed at the scenery every time I see it.
The road descends through grass and sagebrush that reminds me a lot of the English moors, with fast sweeping curves posted at 45 mph but can be taken by a skilled rider at nearly twice that. Once across the John Day River at the bottom of the valley, it’s up the other side for another round of amazing twisties.
The town of Fossil isn’t much to look at as far as scenic beauty, but there is a lot of very interesting history there to be explored. Fossil even plays a small role in my upcoming novel, Second Citizen. Stay tuned for details of when that hits the shelves.
Bear Hollow Park, Fossil, Oregon
A few miles south of Fossil, I stopped at Bear Hollow county park and campground. A spray-painted plywood sign at the entrance said, “Park Closed” but I rolled in anyway and found myself a cozy picnic table under the pine and fir trees. Lunch was dehydrated beef stroganoff. It’s not much to look at but it fills the belly, especially when all the restaurants are closed due to the Coronavirus quarantine. Other people had used the park as well, considering the trash I found inside the trash can near my site. Even the water spigot worked.
The air got warmer as I descended to lower elevation and the one-store spot-in-the-road called Service Creek. A half-dozen motorcycles were parked outside as I rode by.
The next town was Spray and I stopped at their lone gas pump to fill up my tank. You pump the gas by hand and write your total on a little pull-tab ticket, then carry it inside and pay with cash. I had to wait for a local in a mini-van to pull out of the spot next to the pump; she parked there just to park. She was nice enough about it when she asked, “Are you waiting for me?”
By this time, the temperature was in the low to mid 80s with ‘abundant sunshine’ as the meteorologists describe it. After leaving Spray, I rolled through the junction town of Kimberly, where the north fork of the John Day meets the main stem of the river, and highway 402 connects with my road, highway 19. Apparently a Harley-Davidson rider went off the road on 402 over the weekend, went down an embankment into the John Day, and drowned.
I was glad to have gassed up in Spray because the anticipated gas pump in Dayville was “Closed 4 Now.” I pulled off the highway and headed south toward Pine Tree Campground, and — well, I already told that part of the story up at the top.
Jump ahead to John Day. I had showered and napped and was ready for dinner. I called my favorite restaurant in town, The Outpost, and ordered a chicken cranberry salad to go. I walked over 15 minutes later, paid with cash and left a big tip, then walked back to my room.
Three older gentleman on Yamaha FZ9s had arrived and parked in the spot next to me. They were intensely curious where I got my food. I shared my knowledge and menu (that I had grabbed from the motel lobby) and chatted with them briefly while they argued over which burger to order.
Despite the pleasant fact that I wasn’t in a tent in the heat, I didn’t sleep very well. I know it’s a first-world problem, but having the air conditioning noisily come on every 10 minutes throughout the night tends to disrupt your sleep.
Breakfast was impressive: dehydrated biscuits and gravy (really) cooked with my little one-burner camp stove in my motel bathroom, along with a cup of complimentary Keurig coffee.
I was packed and heading westward by 7:40 am, this time with the liner in my jacket and my cold weather gloves on my hands. I didn’t shed those layers until I was on the western slope of Mt. Hood, nearly home.
After filling my tank in Mt. Vernon just east of John Day, I stopped at Cathedral Rock along the John Day, a few miles south of Kimberly, for a photo op. I pulled into the same one-pump store in Spray to buy $3.50 worth of gas, which would be more than enough to get me the rest of the way home. I don’t think I paid more than $2.68 a gallon at any point on this trip.
Mt. Hood from Bakeoven Road, Oregon
After riding the amazing stretch between Fossil and Shaniko, I stopped on a wide spot along Bakeoven Road for a break. I listened to the high prairie wind, hearing some cows arguing a half mile upwind. In the distance to the west was Mt. Hood, reminding me of the Lonely Mountain described in Tolkien’s The Hobbit. I’ve always loved seeing that mountain — which is practically in my back yard — when returning from long bike trips, because it’s a symbol of home. I’d be on the other side of it in less than two hours.
Once past Maupin, I took highway 216 back toward the main highway 26. This bypassed Tygh Valley and Wamic, and was a more sedate change of pace. It passes in a straight line through windswept grasslands before abruptly entering pine, and then fir, forest. The smell was amazing.
There wasn’t much traffic on highway 26 as there usually is on a weekend, jammed with slow RVs and even slower Toyota Priuses (what is the plural of Prius?) The air was getting noticeably warmer as I descended down the western slope of Mt. Hood so I pulled over and shed some layers, opened my vents, and ate a quick snack. The rest of the route home was uneventful.
Getting home, I looked at my bike admirably, thinking of the 75,000 smiles it has given me since I bought it in February, 2007. It’s gotten me into and out of a lot of very interesting places, and enabled me to experience some amazing scenery. I’ve met some of the nicest people on two wheels, and obtained memories that will never fade, no matter how demented my mind becomes as I get older. (I know demented isn’t the right word, but in my case, I feel like it fits perfectly.)
I am running out of places in Oregon that I haven’t visited by motorcycle. One of the locations on my to-ride list was Post, Oregon, the geographic center of the state.
Been there, done that, won’t bother doing it again.
Don’t get me wrong, the ride there and away was fine, with some classic eastern Oregon scenery and roads. But, the location — you can’t call it a town — of Post itself is just a general store with a sign, and that’s it.
They do have a gas pump, which I suppose would be convenient if you were running low. Regular unleaded cost $2.96 a gallon, which is amazingly low considering the remote location. I paused long enough to get off the bike a take a picture, then moved on.
My route was Gresham to Prineville via highway 26. I know, boring. But I didn’t really have any other viable routes to take. Once in Prineville I took state route 380 east-south-east to Post, then kept going east to Paulina. When I left home, I stopped at a gas station in Boring to put some air in my tires and got chatted up by a retired school man named Val. He was very familiar with the area and suggested I take a side route south to Burns, then north on US 395. I thanked him for the suggestion and looked for the required road when I got to Suplee. Alas, I never found it.
Even my GPS kept wanting me to go all the way to 395 first, then south to Burns, which would involve riding the same 45 miles of road twice in the same day. That’s not going to happen.
The last dozen miles of 380 before you get to 395 are much more wooded and typical of the Blue Mountains kind of terrain. I came out onto 395 just north of Seneca. I rode up to Canyon City, gassed up, then got to my motel in John Day in the mid afternoon.
I stopped at the Shelton Wayside along highway 19 just south of Fossil for a break, and used the timer on my camera to take a rare self-portrait.
Dinner was at The Outpost next door. That night, some rowdy kids decided to paw-tay the night away in the room next door so it took ear plugs to give me a few hours of sleep. The next morning I left with temps in the mid 30s. I took my usual route home: Kimberly, Spray (where I got gas), Fossil, Antelope, Maupin, Wamic, Government Camp, home. The weather was perfect. I saw two cow elk cross Bakeoven Road between Shaniko and Maupin, and earlier saw a wild turkey on the pavement, but other than that the only other critters I saw were a half dozen dead deer at various places along the route.
Some rides are utilitarian and have the charm of lukewarm tapwater. Others are sublime extensions of oneself that shall remain in our memories until the day we die, and perhaps beyond.
This past weekend was such an experience.
My goal was to take my 2012 Suzuki GSX-R750 on an overnight trip of at least 250 miles each way to see if I can physically handle that kind of mileage on a sport bike, as well as test out my luggage and its ability to carry what I needed. The fact that I would be traveling on some of the best roads Oregon has to offer was incidental.
My route took me over Mt. Hood, down to the Deschutes River rafting town of Maupin, through the hamlets of Shaniko and Antelope, along magical highway 218 to Fossil, through the cowboy town of Spray and along the John Day river to the destination town of the same name. It was windy and the pass at Government Camp would be a bit chilly so I started off with my yellow Nelson-Rigg rain jacket on over my AGVSport leathers for extra warmth. When I reached the lone gas station in Maupin to fill up, I was able to shed that outer layer.
The absence of premium 92 octane unleaded is a concern when riding in rural areas. My Gixxer averages 43 mpg when I ride it, and with its 4.5 gallon tank, I have an effective range of about 180 miles before I’m running on vapors. In Maupin, I not only filled my gas tank, but I filled up a 30 oz. fuel bottle that I kept in my tail bag just in case. As the big-bellied station attendant said, “That will save you a 15 mile walk!” Fortunately, it was never needed on this trip.
I left Maupin for Shaniko via Bakeoven Road, a route I highly recommend to any rider, especially those on sport bikes. The first few miles out of the Deschutes River canyon are technical and require top attention. The curves are great but gravel is common and the stakes are high if you leave the pavement. But, through adversity we grow, and each successful run over roads like that makes you a better rider.
East of Antelope highway 218 shines. The road is in fantastic shape, there are great sight lines and very few blind corners, traffic and law enforcement is nearly non-existent, and the weather was perfect. What’s not to love? I really got sideways and the chicken strips on my Shinko 011 Verge tires are now down to 1/4″ wide.
By the time I got to Fossil I was ready for lunch. Unfortunately, the Big Timber restaurant was closed — either for the day or permanently, I’m not sure — and the only other place to eat was crowded with pirates (cruiser folk), so I continued onward. I stopped in Spray and ate a BLT in the back of the small market and gas station combo. From the looks of their few, sparse shelves, first impressions would indicate they’re about to go out of business. Not all first impressions are accurate, however. The two gray-haired gals working the joint rustled up a BLT for me, and 20 minutes later I was back on the road.
From Maupin east, the nearest source of 92 octane unleaded is Dayville on highway 26. It took 3.4 gallons to cover the approximately 145 miles, so the range between fill-ups was adequate. Another hour down the road and I was pulling into the Best Western John Day Inn and unloading my gear into my room.
Things got even better the next day. I left John Day at 8 AM and had the roads to myself. After getting warmed up on the highway 26 leg to the junction with highway 19, I ramped up my pace and really got sideways. Other than a brief snack break in Spray, I maintained a brisk and spirited pace all the way to Maupin. For those who haven’t explored the byways of rural Eastern Oregon, I highly recommend taking the time to do so. The topography and rivers have to be seen to be believed.
I fueled up once again in Maupin, this time only requiring 2.3 gallons — odd — and went home through Wamic, past Rock Creek Reservoir, and then back over Government Camp and into Sandy and home.
My cheeks are still sore from grinning so much.
But back to the original goal of testing the trip-worthiness of the GSX-R, yes, it’s possible. Riding attire is important, and would probably be better served with an Aerostich Roadcrafter or Transit suit rather than racing leathers. Also, luggage space is reduced but with judicious selection of only things that matter, that’s not much of a challenge. Fuel capacity is also an issue, but with the what-if inclusion of extra fuel via my 30 oz. bottle and careful route planning, that also isn’t much of an issue. Riding a sport bike is a much more physical endeavor so fatigue can be somewhat of an issue. Ironically, my butt hurts more when I ride my V-Strom, but my neck and knees hurt a bit more on the Gixxer. It’s a trade off, and frequent rest stops mitigate that adequately.
Having said all that, the V-Strom is more capable for long trips but the Gixxer provides more smiles per mile.
Breakfast was at The Outpost a few minutes after they opened at 6 AM. The food is always good there, especially their breakfast.
Eager to get home, I didn’t waste time. I was on the road shortly after 7 AM. I topped off my tank in Dayville, then got on highway 19 through Kimberly and into the tiny town of Spray. I then worked my way to Fossil where I headed west on my favorite road in Oregon, highway 218, to Antelope.
218 is a lot of fun. There is a variety of curves, all banked perfectly, there are very few blind corners and sight lines are far, and the road surface is in fantastic shape. The road can bite you if you’re not on your game, but if you get into the zone it’s a thrill to run it.
I rode through Antelope, Shaniko, over Bakeoven road into Maupin, through Tygh Valley and into Wamic where I gassed up and ate a snack. I then took FS48 west, but had to detour onto FS43 to get to highway 26 as the rest of 48 to highway 35 remained closed, presumably due to late season snow (they don’t plow it).
I was soon up and over the pass at Government Camp and back at home in Sandy by 12:30 pm.
— This is the last day of the first half of a multi-day loop trip to British Columbia and northern California. —
Sleep eluded me for most of the night. I eventually dozed off at around 4 am, only to wake up at 6:00 am in a motel room without power. I looked outside and the electronic sign in front of the motel was inoperable as well. I got dressed for breakfast and noticed none of the signs down main street were working, so it was safe to assume the restaurant a block away was not an option. I ate the granola bar I had in my top case, packed everything up, and headed down the road.
I rode about eight miles into the adjacent town, Mt. Vernon, and saw the “open” sign was lit at a small cafe. I pulled in and parked right in front, between a half dozen pickup trucks covered in farm dirt. When I entered the entire clientele consisted of old white men in western shirts and an even combination of John Deere ball caps and cowboy hats. I sat down and was served by a thin, high strung women in her early 30’s, face covered in pock marks and jaw working overtime. I assumed she was a meth head tweaker. She was friendly, efficient, and equally capable of dishing back the good natured teasing she received from the regulars. I told the waitress that the power was out in John Day and she said that it had been out there as well, only coming back on a few minutes before I arrived.
I was concerned about fuel. I intended to fill up in John Day before I left but the power outage shut down the pumps. I rode another 25 miles into Dayville, the next town down the highway, and whipped into a tiny two-pump gas station and filled up. Just outside of town I turned north onto a secondary road that took me past one of the John Day fossil beds, through the small crossroad community of Kimberly, through the river town of Spray, and eventually into the town of Fossil itself. Without stopping, I veered west onto highway 218, one of my favorite roads in Oregon, and drank up the delicious curves between Fossil and Antelope and Shaniko.
I crossed over the high desert via Bakeoven Road, then dropped down the canyon into the Deschutes River town of Maupin. A dozen miles beyond I stopped in Wamic and fueled up at the same store/gas station I had visited just a few weeks before. I then completed the last leg of the trip by riding up and over Mt. Hood under showery skies, back to home in Sandy.
I was invited to attend an annual guy’s-only weekend at a cabin outside of North Powder, Oregon. I went two years prior with my buddy, Mike. Although he drove there with others in a pickup truck, I rode my V-Strom solo via my own more circuitous route (see end of this post for maps).
For several days leading up to my departure, Oregon had a lot of precipitation and low snow levels. The pass at Government Camp had packed snow on the roadway and temps in the upper 20’s and lower 30’s Thursday, the day I left. I backtracked into Gresham, then road I-84 east to Cascade Locks where I crossed the Bridge of the Gods to SR14 in Washington. There had been a rock slide at Dog Mountain so I had to wait about 10 minutes for the construction crews to let us pass. I took this photo looking south across the Columbia River toward Oregon.
I crossed back over into Oregon at The Dalles and had lunch at Casa El Mirador. Dos enchiladas, pour favor … muey bueno! I topped off my gas tank and headed south through the heart of Oregon on highway 197. This stretch of road passes through alfalfa and wheat fields covering rolling hills and wide open spaces. It passes by the town of Dufur, which is a common turn-around spot for me on a favorite day loop. Riding through Tygh Valley 197 climbs back up one hill then back down again into the small but busy rafting town of Maupin, which straddles the Deschutes River.
I often stop in Maupin for a quick snack but this time I kept riding. Instead of continuing down 197 I hung a sharp left once across the river and headed up the winding hairpin turns of Bakeoven Road. It takes me to Shaniko, the next town on my journey, with far less traffic and arguably better scenery. The weather was great for riding and I had a pleasant blend of puffy clouds and blue skies to enhance the view across the grasslands. Between Maupin and Shaniko is very little, but the sparse landscape has its own beauty.
In Shaniko I turned south toward the tiny hamlet of Antelope, then east on state route 218 toward Fossil. This is one of my favorite roads in Oregon. There’s hardly any car traffic, the road surface is in great shape — although there can be gravel on curves — the scenery is fantastic, and it has a nice blend of challenging and rewarding curves. It’s also long enough that I feel like I get my money’s worth out of the ride. I stopped at the Clarno Unit rest area and trailhead of the John Day Fossil Beds for a quick break, set up my mini-tripod down on the ground, and took this photo using the 10-second timer. Self-portraits are one of the hassles of my solo riding style.
I had enough gas to last the rest of the day’s ride, but it’s better to be safe than sorry when traveling the sparsely populated roads of eastern Oregon. I stopped at the two-pump gas station in Fossil and fueled up, then continued onward. State route 19 took me into the cowboy town of Spray, which sits above the John Day river. As I passed through I saw several real cowboys filing into a local cafe for lunch, their hats so wide they barely fit through the doorway. The next tiny town I passed through was Kimberly.
I was feeling thirsty and in need of a break so I stopped at a visitor’s center at one of the John Day Fossil Beds locations. About two miles later I hit the junction with highway 26 and turned left, eastward through Dayville and into Mt. Vernon. I had originally intended to camp at Clyde Holliday State Park in Mt. Vernon, but after pulling into the park and checking it out, I decided to continue on to John Day and get a motel room at the Best Western.
The next morning, after breakfast at The Outpost restaurant next door, I continued east through Prairie City, then northeast over Dixie Pass before cutting north on state route 7 past Bates and Sumpter. The weather was slightly cooler but still dry. Eventually I made it to Baker City where I stopped for a late ‘second breakfast’ as a Hobbit might say. The homemade corned beef hash at the Oregon Trail restaurant really hit the spot.
Once fed, I headed north on highway 30 through Haines before turning west toward Anthony Lake. Leaving the farm and ranch land of the valley, the road enters the timbered Elk Horn mountains. My GPS guided me expertly to the gravel side road that took me to the cabin and my destination.
The cabin is without electricity, other than through the use of a small generator, and sits on 80 acres with a decent sized creek. There is a spring so running water is available. This particular weekend is for gentlemen only, and I use that term loosely. Sort of the whole point of the occasion is to get our cussin’ and scratchin’ and fartin’ out of our systems before we inevitably have to return to our wives and girlfriends and jobs and civilization in general. To protect the guilty, I won’t go into too much detail about what goes on, but I will touch on a couple of noteworthy highlights.
One of the main attractions was the presence of a rather large John Deere front-loader. Tracy, an older man who retired after spending 30+ years working such large equipment, expertly used it to load rather large stumps and logs onto the campfire.
Another guy, Dave, brought a homemade rock crawler in the back of his work van. Opportunity is where you find it, and once he unloaded the vehicle he used the empty space as a weather-proof location to pitch his tent. I, however, wasn’t as fortunate. I pitched my tent the old fashioned way, and was rather proud of how it looked with my bike parked next to it.
The temperature dropped into the upper 20’s during the night, no doubt aided by the fact that the cabin sits at around 4,500 feet elevation and rests at the bottom of a valley (heat rises, cold air descends, etc.) I managed to sleep pretty good considering the circumstances. I awoke a little after 5 am and relieved myself, then put some more wood on the fire to get it going again before crawling back into my warm sleeping bag for another two hours of shut-eye. Eventually the whole camp was awake and well fed with a breakfast of venison sausage patties and bacon, scrambled eggs, rosemary spiced potatoes, and coffee. While most of the other guys got fishing gear ready and set off for nearby Pilcher Reservoir in pursuit of some fat rainbows, I broke camp and loaded up my bike, eager to get my gear stowed before threatening clouds dumped rain.
My timing was perfect. After saying goodbye, I mounted up and headed down the quarter-mile dirt road onto the paved highway and down into the valley below. As soon as I emerged from the timber rain drops began falling. I had off-and-on rain for the next 30 miles as I retraced my route back into Baker City. I gassed up then stopped again at the Oregon Trail restaurant for a lunch of chef’s salad and coffee.
By 1pm I was heading southwest on state route 7 past Sumpter. At Bates, 7 meets highway 26 where I began climbing toward the top of Dixie Pass. It began to rain — hard. Then it began to drop snow mixed with the heavy rain. Slush formed on my face shield and I had to wipe it off every 5-10 seconds with the thumb of my gloved left hand. Thankfully the road surface was only wet and not frozen. The air temperature was dropping with every foot I climbed up the mountain pass and I began to worry I’d run into freezing riding before cresting the pass.
Fortunately, however, I reached the 5,200 foot summit and started dropping down the other side before the weather had a chance to get truly dangerous. I think Mother Nature knew I won because the clouds spread out and the precipitation petered out. By the time I reached Prairie City I had mostly blue skies. There was a bit of wind buffeting me from the side but I made it back to John Day safely and without further incident.
After another night’s stay at the Best Western — in the same room I had Thursday night — I set out toward home Sunday morning. This time I took a slightly different route. Instead of heading west on 26 through Dayville and then north on 19 to Spray, I went north on 395 to Long Creek then west through Monument where I got back on 19 in Kimberly. The rest of the route was the same until I got to Maupin. This time, rather than north to The Dalles and around Mt. Hood via the Columbia River Gorge, I headed west on highway 216 then over the pass at Government Camp. I returned home to Sandy under beautiful blue skies in what turned out to be a fantastic Spring day of riding. View Larger Map
Departure was on a Monday. 8 am, I pulled out of my home under sunny skies and 55 degrees. Perfect riding weather as far as I was concerned. The destination of the first day would be John Day, Oregon. I made it as far as Maupin on the Deschutes River before it got hot enough to change into my warm weather gear. I grabbed a snack (Reses peanut butter cups and a vanilla frappucino — Food of the Riding Gods) and continued on my way.
I got to Fossil at 11:00 AM and had lunch at the Big Timber Cafe. As I was getting on my bike to leave, a guy in a Ford Focus pulled up and asked me several questions about my bike. He had a Suzuki SV650 and was thinking about switching to the V-Strom. He seemed really short to me so I asked him how tall he was. He said he was 5′ 3″. I mentioned that even with lower modifications, the V-Strom would probably be too tall of a bike for him, but it was worth checking out.
Not 5 seconds after he pulled away, a guy on a DL1000 pulled in and parked next to me. His name was John and he was from Ephrata, Washington. We chatted for probably 15 minutes about our bikes and trips and so forth, then he asked where I was headed. I mentioned one leg of my trip would be near his home town. He was very helpful in pointing out how thick traffic would be on one leg and suggested an alternate route. We said our goodbyes and he went inside for lunch while I rolled on toward John Day.
The heat continued to rise as well as the humidity. I had to stop several times to drink water — and pour some on my t-shirt under my Aerostich — in an attempt to cool off. I got into John Day at 2:00 PM and checked into my motel. At the Best Western, they gave me the same room I had on my previous trip through John Day back in May. Fortunately this time it didn’t smell like a tavern like it did earlier.
Dinner was in the lounge of The Outpost next door. The same gal was working that night. The service could be classified as ‘indifferent’. The pizza was undercooked as well. Breakfast in the main restaurant the next morning was great, however.
It was a quick 24-hour overnight trip to my Dad’s in Hermiston, so instead of getting there in 3 hours via I-84, I spent 6 hours riding there via a very circuitious route that looked more like a sine wave than a travel itinerary.
When I left Sandy Saturday morning it was sprinkling lightly but was already 60 degrees outside so the ride was pleasant despite the precipitation. There were very few cars on the road and I made it up and over Government Camp without too much frustration.
My route took me on forest service road 48 from White River past Rock Creek Reservoir and into Wamic. By this point the sun was shining amidst occasional puffy clouds. From Tygh Valley I headed east on 216, and pulled into the White River Falls State Park on the suggestion of a buddy. I’m glad I did. The falls are incredible and worth a visit. There’s a trail down to the river but I stayed up top.
It was getting warm enough that I stripped off my cold-weather pants and put on my cooler warm-weather riding pants. From this point on, I was riding unfamiliar roads. I crossed the Deschutes River at Sherars Bridge and climbed up some tasty curves to the plains on top. Heading north I got into Grass Valley. My breakfast had worn off and I was feeling a bit peckish so I stopped at a small convenience store for a snack. There was an older gentleman there with a steel-blue ’06 V-Strom, and we chatted for a few minutes. I also chatted with the guy working there for a few minutes before heading north to Wasco.
Once I got to Wasco, I turned southeast and headed past the giant windmills to Condon. By the time I got there it was lunch time so I pulled into the Twist and Shake drive-in and enjoyed a bacon swiss mushroom burger and a Pepsi. There was a Fourth of July celebration going on in the park a block away and I could hear music on their loudspeaker. I got gas at a local station and continued east on 206 toward Heppner.
Once at Heppner, I turned north on 74 into Lexington, then into Hermiston. I arrived at 2PM to warm and windy weather. I had a great visit with my Dad, including a wonderful meal of ribs and fried shrimp at Hale’s downtown Hermiston. The wind blew all night.
We awoke to sunny skies and a warm west wind. After breakfast, I mounted back up and began backtracing my steps to Heppner and Condon. I gassed up again at the same station in Condon, but chose a different eatery for lunch, a small cafe on the main drag. They were still serving breakfast so of course I had to partake of their biscuits and ‘ugliest gravy in Oregon’ with a side of bacon and a fried egg on top. Two cups of coffee washed it down.
This time, I headed south to Fossil, then westward over some of the tastiest curves in the state back to Antelope and Shaniko. I followed Bakeoven road, the middle half of which is gravel and tar, down into Maupin, then back up the other side of the Deschutes River canyon toward Tygh Valley and Wamic. The rest of the route home was identical to the reverse journey the day before. Traffic coming down off the mountain was typically thick for the Sunday of a holiday weekend.
The trip was 529 miles in 24 hours and covered some absolutely gorgeous wheat country between Heppner and Condon, and arguably the finest curves in the state between Fossil and Shaniko.
I was invited to attend an annual guys/father-son weekend at a remote cabin outside North Powder, Oregon. My buddy Mike and I were planning to ride there and back on our bikes (he rides a 2005 Suzuki Boulevard M50), but he came down with a creeping crud that didn’t want to go away, so he trailered his bike and I rode the originally planned route.
Departure was Thursday morning, May 29. It was raining, of course. My route took me over Mt. Hood via Government Camp, down highway 26 to Bear Springs, where I headed east on highway 216 toward Maupin. A cow elk crossed in front of me but there was enough distance for me to easily slow down in time. The sun came out so I stopped in Maupin and took a refreshment break.
Instead of heading south on 197, I headed south east on Bakeoven Rd. and am glad I did. I had seen it on the map but had never taken it. After getting a report that the road was in good shape from the lady working at the store in Maupin, I took it. The road climbs steeply with narrow turns until arriving at the top of the plateau, at which point it opens up. The clouds came back and by the time I got to Shaniko I had rain drops on my face shield once again.
Rolling through Shaniko and Antelope, I continued east toward Fossil, my intended lunch stop. Passing through the Clarno Unit of the John Day Fossil Beds, the clouds had descended to ground level reducing visibility and began to dump copious amounts of rain. Although I had to slow down because of the reduced visibility, I was comfortable in my Aerostich and actually kind of enjoyed the experience. Because of an exceptionally wet winter and spring, the hills and grasslands were green and lush instead of brown and dry. The scenery and weather combined into something more like the Scottish highlands than eastern Oregon.
I arrived at the cafe in Fossil on 1st and Main wet and hungry but otherwise very content with the ride so far. My usual BLT and coffee was good as usual. The rain had stopped long enough for me to gas up and get back on the road.
My arrival in John Day occurred at 2:40, just ten minutes later than my arrival a year earlier. Yes, I left home at the usual 8:30, but after filling up my tank in Sandy, I didn’t actually leave town until 8:43. Let’s see, I left 13 minutes later than usual and arrived only 10 minutes later. How’s that for precise riding!
I checked into the Best Western, unpacked, and took a nap. By 4:30 my stomach was rumbling so I showered then headed next door to The Outpost for some beer and a personal Mexican pizza which was considerably better than the indifferent service I received from the waitress. Her surprisingly deep voice was disconcerting.
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About Steve
Like many fantasy authors, Steve Williamson was introduced to the genre when he played his first game of Dungeons & Dragons. It was during a family camping trip in May, 1980, and as he and two friends sat inside a travel trailer rolling dice and fighting orcs, the air outside became gritty and hard to breathe. It was permeated with the fine gray ash spewing out of Mount St. Helens which was erupting just sixty miles away.
Steve now lives in Western Oregon in the shadow of another active volcano, Mount Hood.
