Saturday, March 13, 2021

Washington BDR: Back to the Start

 

Jonathan was doing well at the helm.  And I was having fun in the tub.  It's kind of like being in the front car of a roller coaster - OK, not the smooth steel ones, but more like the old wooden-framed ones.

It was nice to be able to point the camera in any direction, at any time, for action shots.  Getting photos that weren't completely blurred out was the hard part. 


There, I finally got my hand in the frame.  Best to hold on for the corners!


My pilot seemed to be enjoying himself as well - getting more confident as the miles clicked by.  The road had been fairly smooth since he took the reins (yes, I know I'm switching metaphors here) so I realize that my stint in the chair may not have been representative of the entire range of a monkey's experience off-road.  But still, it wasn't as rough or terrifying as I'd thought it might be.


Jonathan said he was up for the challenge, so he continued driving after we joined the paved US Forest Route 23.  As speeds increase, so does the effort required to muscle the big rig around the corners.  He got a little close to the white line the first couple of times, but kept me out of the ditch!


Just before we dropped into the valley, I leaned back behind his shoulder and caught this last view of  snow-covered Mt. Adams.


Back in the town of Trout Lake, I pointed out the way to a great old restaurant that another friend had shown me years ago - but it was closed.


Plan B, we decided, was to head back into the Columbia Gorge and look for a place to eat in White Salmon.  As it was still a bit chilly, we couldn't pass up these open tables in the sun!  


As we waited for our food, I answered questions from passers by about our rather strange form of conveyance.  In nearly 30 years of motorcycle touring, I've never had a machine that garnered so much attention - and nearly all of it positive!


We didn't know it when we pulled up, but we'd chosen another Mexican place.  And that turned out to be just fine!


On our way back to the Vancouver area, there's a place where the road hugs a rocky cliff-side, high above the Columbia.  It makes a great stop for end-of-trip photos.


I was back in the driver's seat by this time, but Jonathan wanted some quality mementoes of his first extended Ural adventure.  Hope these do the trick, my friend.  Very happy to have had you along!


Pulled up again to where we'd started about 24 hours ago, we transferred Jonathan's gear back into his pick-up, relayed a few road stories to his friends, and said our goodbyes.


We both agreed - that was about as perfect as a two-day mini adventure could get!  We'd ridden over 100 miles together each day, much of it off pavement, and gotten a good start on the Washington Backcountry Discovery Route.  Hopefully, sometime after the long winter, we'd be able to pick up were we left off and keep heading north.

Of course, there are a couple of things I need to do on the bike before then.  But I think I'm getting it fairly well dialed in!





Saturday, March 6, 2021

Washington BDR: My Turn!

 


After a good night's sleep, we went outside to find the Ural covered in a rather photogenic layer of frost!  With the third wheel, however, I did not have nearly the concern that I do when this happens on my two-wheeled journeys.


Trout Lake has about 600 residents, so finding the best place to fill up was not hard - this is the only one.  Finding the lake is a lot harder.  There really isn't one, we were told.


After about seven miles on the pavement, I turned off onto a gravel road that I thought should be the next section of the Washington Backcountry Discovery Route.  Jonathan consulted his GPS, and soon confirmed my decision.  

At this point, I'll highlight a new addition to the Ural's sidecar accessories.  The windscreen came with only a thin steel bar to hold on to for support, while careening around mountain curves.  I approached my personal leatherworker (Rich) with this problem, and soon we had a prototype designed and constructed to provide a padded, larger diameter grab bar.  The plan was to test it on this trip, make any changes necessary, then Rich would tool it up to match the bike's handlebar cross bar pad and saddlebag, that he had done for me earlier.

So far, so good - according to the expedition's official test monkey!


It was still cold when we began the day's first climb, but being designed and built on the fringes of Siberia, the Ural was in its element!


That first gravel section had been close to ten, bone-chilling miles.  At the end of it was another paved road that would have taken us back to Trout Lake.  A quick glance at the clock revealed that we still hadn't passed the half-way point of the morning, however.  Between here and the next option for returning south looked like about 15 miles on the map.  If those roads were reasonably well maintained, like the last part had been, we would have plenty of time.

Is it just me, or is that road ahead completely covered with ice? 


Oh yes, it was!  Had to get a shot of the tracks we were making in the frost, before briefly joining FS 88, en route to the next unpaved section.

I did take it a bit slower than normal, but it was nice not to worry about sliding over on the ice.  A third wheel has its advantages!


Turning off onto Forest Service Route 8810, the concrete slab bridge over Trout Lake Creek was not all that photogenic.  But I took a picture of it anyway!  You all know, I have a thing for bridges.


The creek itself was much more attractive - only enhanced by the front end of my Russian steed.

You can see here that the frost on the nose of the sidecar is finally melting off, and the promise of riding in the sunlight spurred us on.


Mid-way up the next climb, we broke free from the shadows and rejoiced in the energizing warmth of that flaming orb in the sky.  Hey, I'm not a poet.


But soon, we were back in thick forest, and our glasses began to fog up - Jonathan's more so than mine, for some reason.  Probably a difference in helmet design.  We had been about to swap positions on the rig, but decided we'd better wait until Jonathan could see!


On the other side of the ridge, things improved dramatically, and I relinquished the driver's seat.  Jonathan had driven the Ural before - even on gravel.  But never with someone in the sidecar.  Well, he did take me for a short spin around the block in my neighborhood once.  But I don't think he got it out of first gear that day.


This would be my first real ride in the "tub" as well.  I was eager to see how rough it actually was on backroads - and how terrifying it might be!  Had my friend just been too kind to tell me the truth?  So far, I was enjoying taking pictures in every direction without needing to concentrate on driving.  

Guess I should be a little concerned about how Jonathan was doing.


Can you tell?  
Are his glasses still clear?





Saturday, February 27, 2021

Washington BDR: Trout Lake

 


We made it to the top without any issues, though it was a bit tricky in spots.  The sun had already sunk below the ridgetops behind us, but the view to our left, was unexpectedly impressive!


Jonathan snapped some photos from the chair, while I got out to capture the broader scene.


The day could not have been any clearer for viewing Cascade Range volcanos!


And Jonathan found another use for the pack I'd strapped to the back of the bike's seat - a perfectly positioned arm rest.  Now this is livin'!


As the sun descended, so did the chill in the air.  Returning to the pilot's seat, I fired up the motor and we set our sights on the town of Trout Lake, WA. 

Just before we began our descent, the road forked again.  The official trail had us turning left onto 6610.  The map showed lots of switchbacks (normally an attractive plus) but what we could see from the junction looked significantly rougher than the route we were on.  If we stayed on 86, it looked like it would be a slightly longer, but potentially quicker way to get to our hotel.  

Not wanting to get stuck out in the dark, we opted for what appeared to be the more prudent option.


And it worked out very well!  We arrived at the Trout Lake Valley Inn just as all the lights were coming on.  Of course, the other way might have improved, and brought us here all the same - or we might have been still on the mountain, wishing we'd taken the easy way!


Unloading was as easy as opening the trunk and grabbing our bags - I kind of like that.  Beats dealing with a lot of bungee cords or detaching heavy aluminum luggage, like I always had to do on my two-wheelers.  The large blue item strapped above the spare tire is the electric pump for transferring fuel from the jerrycan to the main tank.  It could stay on the bike.

The "Inn" was really just an old motel.  But it had recently been remodeled, inside and out, and now possessed a quaint remote lodge atmosphere.


Less than a mile down the road was a pizza place that was still serving on their spacious open-air patio.  A large fire pit kept the picnic table we chose surprisingly comfortable, while we consumed our very tasty supper.


The Ural sat patiently in the gravel parking area, just below a rock retaining wall.  It had puttered along for over 200 miles that day - nearly half of it off-pavement.  And for the first time, over 100 miles had been with a passenger in the sidecar, up and down some fairly steep and rough roads.

I was impressed.  My confidence in its abilities was steadily growing.  There may in fact be a reason this rather odd-looking vehicle has remained largely unchanged for nearly 80 years!


Saturday, February 20, 2021

Washington BDR: Monkey on Board!

 


Not long ago, I blogged about a trip along the Idaho Backcountry Discovery Route - a published string of mostly unpaved roads and Jeep trails, extending completely across Idaho, south to north.  Even though a slower than expected pace meant my friend Dan and I only made it half way to Canada, I enjoyed it so much that I decided I should try another of the BDRs with another friend, Jonathan.

Besides a different state, the biggest difference on this trip would be that rather than bringing his own motorcycle, Jonathan would be riding shotgun - in the Ural's sidecar!  It would be the longest ride, by far, that I had given to date, and the first one that involved more than a few hundred feet off pavement.  Yes, I actually found someone willing to give my Russian steed the ultimate test!

The plan was to meet up with Jonathan at a friend's house just outside of Vancouver, WA, which is just across the Columbia from Portland, OR.  That meant about 100 miles of solo riding for me, and nearly 200 from the Seattle area for him.  I took this picture at the first stop - a gas station, just over the coast range from my home.  New for this trip was a windshield for the "tub" that I hoped would makes things a bit more pleasant for the occupant - so did Jonathan!


Due to personal and professional constraints, we only had two days for this trip - but perhaps that was for the best.  I knew the Ural was supposedly designed to handle the rigors of off-roading, fully loaded, but until you try it yourself, you don't really know.  And could anyone but a toughened homesteader, traveling by wagon across the Oregon Trail, endure the beating that would almost certainly be an inescapable part of such a three-wheeled journey?  We were about to find that out as well.  

So far so good.  He looks so happy and confident!  But we haven't even left the curb in front of his friends' house yet.  The relative comfort of his little pick-up truck was still only steps away.  Ahh, the bliss of ignorance.


We'd met up very near the lunch hour, so first on the list was a good meal.  Not sure what we'd find once we started up the "trail" we figured we'd better make it a good one.  About an hour's ride up river we found the El Rio Cafe in Stevenson, WA.  Wisely, we'd agreed to split a burrito - it was enormous!  We didn't want to stuff ourselves completely, right before the bouncing began, and we were anxious to get moving again.


 About ten miles from lunch, we left the pavement near the small town of Carson.  Jonathan had brought his GPS with the "track" of the BDR uploaded.  To our surprise, its suction cup mounted securely to the sidecar's curved windscreen!  Of course, I had brought the official paper map, and between the two, I figured we could follow the prescribed route, well enough.

The entire Washington Backcountry Discovery Route, from Oregon to Canada, is about 600 miles, divided into eleven sections.  As I said, we only had two days, and could reasonably hope to complete about a section and a half.  If the roads were all like the one you see here, we might finish the first three!  But the Idaho BDR had taught me that the chance of that was very slim.  


So the plan for Day 1 was to keep to the "trail" until we arrived at the first of three possible access routes to the town of Trout Lake, where we had reservations for the night.  At that time, we'd decide if we could make it to the second access point, and so on.

Then we encountered our first pothole.  I nimbly swung the rig over to the left, just barely wetting the sidecar's tire.  Glancing to the right, I was relieved to see that Jonathan had remained inside the rather low-walled tub - and was not sprawled out in the puddle, now behind us!  Probably should have aimed for that one to pass between our two wheel tracks.


After a short section of paved backroad, the GPS (and my map agreed) had us turning off onto a narrow lane, littered with recently fallen leaves.  It looked like a dead-end spur, rather than a through-route, but it was a fun and beautiful one, so we motored on.


Before long, the foliage closed in, the road surface got wetter, and we encountered a puddle that was too big to straddle or go around.  The Ural was designed for this, right?  Up periscope!


Around the next corner, however, the mud holes only multiplied.  This was more than we'd bargained for.  If the GPS didn't show that we were still on track, I'd certainly have turned around.  Oh, the Ural was handling the mud just fine - superbly, in fact!  And my monkey (a long-used term for sidecar occupants) seemed to be putting up with it well enough.  But if we were going to make it to our hotel before dark, things would have to improve, and soon.


But things did not improve - they got worse!  By this time however, we were having so much fun that worries about making it to Trout Lake had all but sunk in the mire.  Jonathan began raising his arms high into the air before we plunged into each hole, as though he was on an amusement park log flume ride.  And rather than creeping through as gently as possible, I began twisting the throttle more, to see just how much splash we could make!


Eventually though, we joined up with a better road that took us up and out of the lowlands - and we began to climb.  We climbed, and climbed, and climbed - until a familiar concern from my last trip began to rear its head.  But this time, I found a good spot to pull over, before the engine overheat light came on.  I'm slowly learning to deal with the Ural on its own terms.


It was the first real view we'd had since leaving the river, so we both got out and stretched our legs a bit.  It was looking like we'd only get to that first access route to Trout Lake, but we were having a blast!  The bike was doing great, and Jonathan reported that the ride in the car was not as rough as he had thought it might be.


Ahead, however, the road seemed to narrow again, but this time, we'd be climbing steeply to Triangle Pass.  Rather than sloshing around in the puddles, this next part would likely be rutted and rocky.  We'd gone through a couple of tricky spots, just before stopping here, and the Ural's relatively low horse-power, but high torque had just kept chugging along.  According to the map, the next few miles could be the toughest test yet of the little apposed-cylinder twin.

Break's over.  Let's see if we can get all this iron up and over the mountain - without having to get out and push!