At 0830 the KTM was just about to leave the garage without me. I'd gotten it all prepped the night before, but kept finding last minute things to do in our new house. That's right, we're still in Netarts, OR, but farther up on the hill, where we actually have a view of the Pacific from the driveway - when it's clear, anyway!
The end of October can be a bit late for crossing the Cascades, but fortunately the pavement on Willamette Pass was clear and mostly dry. Temps were in the 40's, but at least I was out of the valley fog along Interstate 5. Though I'd stopped for a warm-up brunch near Corvallis, the positive thermal effects of that short break were diminishing rapidly, and I was eager to get back down to a lower elevation.
The Klamath Falls basin, however was not much warmer than the pass had been, as it sits at over 4,000 feet above sea level. Faced with the prospect of more mountains along my planned route to the east, I opted instead to continue south into California. This is the route I was going to take on my way back, but a traveler can change his mind, can't he?
By the time I reached the border, the clouds had parted and the temperature display on my dash finally passed 60 degrees! It was after 5:00 and I was finally warm. Then the sun began to set.
In Alturas I had another decision to make. It was only 22 miles east to Cedarville, but light was fading fast. There was also a 6,300 foot pass between here and there. In the evening the crossing would be chilly, but in the morning, it would be downright frigid - and very possibly frosty. There were several motel options here, but Cedarville was likely a much smaller town.
I went into the "Food Mart" and asked about lodging options up ahead. No one could remember seeing any motels in Cedarville, but my map indicated that there was indeed a "Triple A" establishment there. Weighing all the factors again in my head, I chose to go for it. I was supposed to be in Hurricane, Utah the following night, so I could not afford to wait until mid morning for the frost to melt. If I had to, I'd push on to Gerlach, Nevada, the next town - another 84 miles south.
Back on the bike, I was about to leave when another customer pulled up to the pump and asked if I'd heard about the shooting. The sheriff had been hit in Cedarville, and the town was overrun with law enforcement. No, I hadn't heard. Should that additional information convince me to stay in Alturas, I wondered. But when the bike had started up, and the clutch was engaged, it rolled toward the east - toward the snow capped peaks in the distance. It seemed to want to press on, despite all the logical reasons to remain. I hated to force a retreat at that point. We've been through a lot together in the past four years, and it seems to know what it's doing.
The temp read 38 degrees over the pass, but that was warm enough. Ironically, it had just gotten dark when I arrived at the "Sunrise Motel" - AAA approved! My map was right. Unfortunately, a neon sign on the other side of the drive flashed "SORRY." I went in anyway, and poured on all the charm I could muster, after a long cold day in the saddle. But it was no use. There was no room available. And she wouldn't even offer me the couch in the lobby.
To my surprise, however, she told me there was another place downtown. The JnR looked pretty cool from the outside, in the dark. And more importantly, there was a vacancy!
A middle-aged woman checked me in, after stating I could have any sized bed I wanted. "All the rooms are $60." A little girl who might have been her granddaughter led me upstairs to number "9" and disappeared.
Returning to the lobby, I asked about parking, and was told I could go out back and put the bike right next to the building. On the street again, I took this fuzzy shot of downtown Cedarville, CA. What you see is all there is - my kind of place.
Twenty minutes later I was back in the room. Yes, it took me that long to find the right alley which led to the back door of the hotel. The saga included tromping through a line of bushes after coming to a dead end, and calling out to a woman I thought was the one who'd checked me in. "This is the hotel, right?" No response, so louder the second time. A dog started barking. Finally, after the third time, she shook her head no, and I apologized as I turned the bike around. Finally, circling the block yet again, I found the right lane and pulled into the dirt parking lot of the JnR.
As you can see from the last photo, there were no frills at the JnR. Nothing had been updated for quite some time. Or so I thought - until I looked behind the bathroom door! This classy little row of brand new hooks stood out in such contrast to the rest of the room that I had to snap a picture. Really, considering the place was built in 1909, it was holding up pretty well.
Exhausted and wanting a shower, I almost turned in for the night. "I'll stop for breakfast somewhere in the morning," I told Kim on the phone in the lobby - no cell service. I couldn't resist the urge to explore, however, so I took to the streets (OK, just one street) on foot and discovered the Country Hearth Restaurant & Bakery. With similar architectural treatments as the hotel, I figured this must be the place whose backyard I wandered into and upset the dog.
Inside, it was quite cozy. An old man had the table in front of the wood stove in the back. I chose one by the front window, where I could watch everything that was going on. My original plan was to grab something quick and head back to the hotel, so I ordered a side dish to go.
What the place lacked in human traffic, it more than made up for in knick knacks. Opposite my table was a large collection of pocket knives. My friend Dave would be very pleased.
To my left was an antique pump organ, adorned with old family photos and children's school certificates. The place was part museum, part grandma's house, and only a small part restaurant.
By the time the food came, my mood had changed, and I just had to linger. Yes, those are egg rolls. I thought it was a unique offering for a small town eatery, and couldn't resist. Knowing I'd need all the sleep I could get that night, I passed on my usual Pepsi, and chugged this bottle of caffeine free Snapple. It was not a bad combo, actually.
Back on the street, I couldn't help but notice the only other establishment with any lights on that night. Can you make out the sign? Yes, Cedarville was a curious place. The kind of place I always hope to find when I'm on the road. But hopefully I wouldn't be needing one of those large empty boxes before the night was over. You know, like the one leaning up against the wall between those two doorways.
