Our last morning was clear and beautiful - but quite cold! Fulfilling my obligation to Jonathan, we waited for the hotel breakfast before heading out. Yes, for the record, we had breakfast each and every day this trip! Don't tell him, but I kind of enjoyed it.
We made several brief stops that morning, to warm up in the bright sunshine. We only had a little over 300 miles to go, so time was on our side.
Most of them, as it turned out, were on the shores of various lakes. And oddly, it seemed like we were the only ones enjoying the scenery that day.
But the trip was still going by way too fast. To slow things down a bit, we even stopped for lunch. I know! This was turning out to be a three-meal day! I hear many bikers regularly travel this way, but it was a completely new experience for me.
By the middle of the afternoon, there was only one more obstacle between us and the coast - Oregon's capital city, Salem. Now, it's really not a large city, and not that difficult to navigate through. But, we still had plenty of time, so I suggested we take the southern bypass - which includes a ferry ride!
I'd told Jonathan it was free, but upon our arrival, the sign above proved me wrong. "Motorcycles - $2.00." It wasn't going to break the bank, however, so we waited for our ride to motor back from the other side of the Willamette River.
Highway ferries are quite common in Washington state and British Columbia, but not so much in Oregon. Not anymore, that is. Back in the day, bridges were very scarce. In fact, as you drive across some Oregon bridges, you can still see what's left of a few ferry boats, rusting on the riverbank below.
There's just something about riding your motorcycle onto a ferry. Fellow passengers usually offer to take your picture, for one thing. And it just seems more adventurous, more exotic, than crossing a bridge. Unlike me, Jonathan has been around ferries all his life, and even he thought it was somehow a fitting end to a long, at times difficult, journey.
The first town we came to on the west side of the Coast Range mountains was Hebo - a place I've passed through hundreds of times, but never stopped. There's a quaint little store there that has always called to me, but it's so close to home that the timing was never right - until today!
The older woman at the counter was very pleasant, and eager to hear where we'd been. We purchased a root beer and an orange soda, and enjoyed our last riding break on the store's long and shady front porch.
Returning our empty bottles and walking back to the bikes, I couldn't help but notice the taping job on the KLR's speedometer cable. We'd done that just a few miles north of this spot, on the first day of our three-state, 1200-mile trip. And it had held firmly the entire way - even through all those water crossings!
Editor's Note: It was over a month later that I finally got it fixed. Cable could not be salvaged, and I had to order a new one from Kawasaki. Works great now - but the odometer is about 1500 miles behind the bike's actual mileage! Don't tell the DMV.
We pulled in to Tillamook, just in time to catch my wife getting off work. She took this final triumphant photo in the parking lot out back.
Our four-day ride had checked all the boxes:
Successful crossing of the infamous Black Rock Desert.
One more (last?) true adventure for the old KLR.
First true, break-in adventure for the new KTM.
Confidence booster for middle-aged riders - early middle-age, that is.
Ideal utilization of a summer's last days.
Reunification, after far too long, of a great adventuring duo!
Many thanks to Jonathan for his knowing, yet willful denial of reality in agreeing to go on my 'easy little trip,' to our wives for their 'reluctant support,' and to all of you, for giving me an excuse to write it all down.
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