100 Days 48 States - The Journey

"On a dark desert highway
Cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas
Rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance
I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night"
- The Eagles, Hotel California

TODAY’S ROUTE:
Eugene, OR to Crescent City, CA: I-5 South toSR-58 East through Oakridge to US-97 South to Chemult to SR-138 West to Crater Lake North Entrance, East on Rim Drive around to Rim Village, West on SR-62 to through Prospect to SR-234 West to Gold Hill, SR-99 West to US-199 to Cave Junction, SR-46 to Oregon Caves National Monument, back to Cave Junction, South on US-199 to US-101 South to Crescent City. (MAP)

THE DETAILS:
I forgot to get the stamp yesterday. No not the NPS stamp. I wasn’t at any National Park sites. I’m talking about the dealer service stamp in my BMW service manual. I don’t know what it is about my stamp collecting habits, but I’ve got to get it. There’s a space for each service stop and the 18,000-mile space should have a stamp from Cycle-Logical BMW in it, but I forgot to ask for it. Including the initial 600-mile service, I’ve got three stamps already and I’m not about to blow this. So, after I say my good-byes to Monica, I go back to the dealership.

While I’m waiting for someone to show up and open up the place, I realize it’s time to put another videotape in the camcorder. So I open the Canon Elura and I’m waiting for the tape to pop up, but it doesn’t happen! The damn thing is broken. I switch the battery. I reset the unit. But the tape still won’t come out. When the mechanics arrive, they stamp my book and then take a look at the Elura. The loading mechanism is jammed, and they manage to get it open and I change the tape. Everything is working again, so I’m off. Thanks guys.

It’s good to be back on the road again. I’ve got a cold, probably from all that fun in Portland, but it isn’t bothering me once I’m back on the bike. It’s like the motorcycle is medicine. And the machine is running well after it’s tune-up. It’s responsive and looking for some twisties. Good thing too, because I’m heading right up the Cascade Mountains again. Once I get out of the valley, the light cloud cover disappears and there’s nothing but sun in the sky.

The main destination today is Crater Lake National Park. Simply put, this place is stunning. Crater is one of the most famous lakes on Earth, with water as deep blue as blue can be. Every view of the lake from every angle is gorgeous. The maximum depth, at 1,932 feet, makes Crater the deepest lake in the U.S. and the 7^th deepest in the world. The rim of the crater rises to 8,151 feet and the surface of the lake is 6,176 feet above sea level. The crater walls are six miles apart. The water holds the world record for clarity. Put it all together and this place is awesome.

The Rim Drive, a 33-mile road, winds around the crater with overlooks and pullouts providing plenty of stopping points. At Pumice Point, I stop at an overlook and sit on the rim of the crater. A ground squirrel scampers about and actually comes over and jumps in my lap! A friendly squirrel, but he’s obviously been ruined for the wild by park visitors with handouts. I bet he hasn’t stored up any food for the winter, and in a few weeks he’ll be screwed. The Rim Drive will be closed, there will be feet of snow on the ground, and no one to give him food stamps. The crater gets 44 feet of snow each year, but the lake rarely freezes over. Heat from the summer sun stored in the immense body of water keeps ice from forming. At least Mr. Squirrel will have something to drink.

I get something to eat and drink at Crater Lake Lodge, a beautiful stone building overlooking the south rim. I’d like to stay here all day, and spend the night at the Lodge, but it’s not in the plan. I’ve got another stamp to retrieve. I’m off to the Oregon Caves about two hours away.

The entrance road up to Oregon Caves National Monument is just miserable. It’s well paved, but it twists and turns uphill for 10 miles. And these aren’t good twisties. They’re short, harsh 20 MPH turns that make your legs hurt. Back and forth, I’m getting bounced around like a yo-yo. What looks like 10 minutes on a map turns into 30. When the turns end and I reach the ranger station, I feel like I really earned this one. It’s after 5 PM and the last cave tour ended over an hour ago. But I could care less after that road. The last thing I’d want to do right now is go spelunking.

Less than an hour later I’m in California, headed for the coast. I’m thinking of every song I can with California in the title and then launching into extended re-mixes as I sing to myself inside the helmet. First there’s "California Here I Come", then "California Dreamin" leading to "Hotel California" followed by "California Girls". The original Beach Boys version, not that lousy David Lee Roth cover. My harmonies are really sounding good. No, really they are. I sing to myself all the time as I ride, and I know every other motorcyclist does the same thing.

A few years ago I took a trip up the coast from San Francisco. I rented a convertible and headed north in search of Coast Redwoods. I always wanted to see these enormous trees, the tallest living things on earth. And I found plenty of them along the Avenue of the Giants and Humboldt State Park. I kept thinking to myself how cool it would be to ride though here on my motorcycle. The open car was great, but I knew a bike would be even better.

I was right.

THE DAILY TAKE:
Miles Today: 386.7
Total Miles: 16,039
Time on Motorcycle: 6 Hours 46 Minutes
Average Speed: 57.2 MPH
States Visited today: 2 (OR, CA)
Total States Visited: 32
National Park Service Passport Stamps: 2
NPS Stamp totals: 117 Stamps, 28 States
Weather: Cool and Sunny, getting warmer with the day.
Height of Tallest Coast Redwood: 367.8 Feet

SEEN ON THE ROAD:
"Don’t Ride Faster Than Your Guardian Angel Can Fly" – sticker on BMW F-650 Top Case at Cycle Logical BMW, Eugene Oregon.

RANDOM PASSINGS:
I don’t know about you, put I prefer self-service gas stations. Actually, I really don’t like full service. It’s one of the many reasons I avoid New Jersey. What’s the matter with them there? What’s the big deal, letting people pump their own gas?

Well, New Jersey’s got company, and it’s called Oregon. This state had a lot going for it until I pulled into a gas station. It is actually against the law for people to pump their own gas!

If you ride a motorcycle, you’re probably not too fond of full service. The last thing you want is some teen-age attendant spilling gas all over your bike. And they never top if off. One click and they shut off the pump. When the pump clicks on my bike, it still has another gallon to go. Besides, I like to pump the gas myself. It makes me feel good. It’s part of the whole process of driving or riding.

I had to stop for gas a total of three times in Oregon. And each time, without even asking, the attendants asked me if I wanted to pump my own gas! You bet your ass I did. I guess they didn’t care too much about that law. I bet they wouldn’t do that in Jersey!