AestheticsInMotion - Finding Oregon

[AestheticsInMotion]

Day Zero - False Starts

Rain was coming down in thick sheets as I ran to the bike, the sheer density of moisture enough to warrant a life jacket. Hoping against hope to stay relatively dry, I packed with an urgency. Saddlebags stuffed with gear—experienced fingers danced across clips, buckles and straps. It was a race against the elements, and like a word problem full of prime numbers--the odds were against me. I started to sweat, moisture against my skin a mirror image to what was beading up upon the surface of my jacket. Shit. Besieged from both sides, the goretex shell gave out, growing clammy to the touch as it lost it’s ability to repel water.

Not ideal. Clearly it was time to leave.

Helmet donned furiously, interior pads grew damp as they pressed against my soaked hair. Each breath made visible as fog against the lens of my glasses, I fastened my chin strap and tried to ignore the rivulets of water sneaking in through tired seams and worn-out stitching.

Again, not ideal. Hardly the start I’d wished for.

Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Miles racked up laborously, each gruelling milestone a stark reminder of the increasing distance from home. What had already been an unusual summer storm only grew worse—clouds darkening from granite to pitch, rain drops pounding the earth with a bestial ferocity. Thunder began to echo across the sky and all the while, glances towards the map showed an ever increasing number of collisions along my route, long swathes of interstate turning red with traffic.

As I wiped a soaked glove against my visor, I wondered, “could I handle another four hours of this?”

No.

Thought’s of a fellow rider’s recent crash heavy in my mind, I took the nearest exit and headed home via side streets. Frustration that had started building from the moment I ran out the front door evaporated in an instant as I parked the bike and walked back inside.

Day One - Hard-Fought Luxury

No alerts from the security system meant the gear I’d left overnight was probably still strapped to the bike. Already a more promising start than the last. A scan of the horizon made apparent another piece of good news—a clear sky would be a welcome travel partner as I headed south from Seattle. Unfortunately, the much-maligned weathermen never seem to have trouble with their rain forecasts, and soon enough the head of the so-called atmospheric river made it’s presence felt. One-hundred and thirty miles between fillups had me stopping once more before I found myself crossing Astoria’s famed bridge—and even in my fuguelike state it was all but impossible not to be impressed by the scale and grandeur.

Tires rolling over the Oregon mainland at last, with a quick jaunt into town the Cannery Pier Hotel opened up it’s doors to one more weary traveler.

As I slowly walked into my room, I was struck by three things.

The first—a full size bottle of Bollinger Grand Cuvee Champagne sitting atop a bent-wood table by the lit fireplace. Inviting as only fine French bubbly can be, it brought to mind a quote attributed to one of the heads of the Bollinger family.

I drink it when I’m happy and when I’m sad. Sometimes I drink it when I’m alone. When I have company I consider it obligatory. I trifle with it if I’m not hungry, and drink it when I am. Otherwise, I never touch it--unless I’m thirsty.

A woman after my own heart. But I digress…

A carefully uncorked bottle while exploring the room led me to the second surprise. A door led out onto a petite deck, where with a tilt of the eyes skyward the entire length of the Astoria bridge was laid bare. Were I an artist, I would have pulled out my canvas and set to work, alas, I can lay claim to many things but a penchant for the arts is not one of them. With a swig of bolly and a wistful look back at the architectural masterpiece—stunning in both form and function—I drifted back inside.

It was in the bathroom that I realized I would be unable to continue with the carefully constructed plans laid out for the remainder of the trip. An emergency of epic proportions presented itself to me as tunnel vision took over. Did my eyes deceive me? Had I crashed along the interstate, my brain projecting soothing images to protect my sanity as I lay in the hospital recovering?

No. It was real, I was sure of it. For surely no machination of the mind could produce such a stunning reality. Standing before me was a clawfoot bathtub filled to the brim—raised upon tidy tilework—and situated in such a way as to have a clear view of the bridge outside. Propped up nearby was a pair of binoculars set atop a ship-watching chart. Without further ado, I hopped in and proceeded to sink into a new persona, unbothered by earthly issues like “weather” or “meeting a group of friends in a timely fashion”. This was heaven on earth, and everything else could wait.

Fast forward a few hours and I found myself chauffeured via 60’s Rolls Royce to a little brewery (which has since collapsed in on itself, for we are truly heralds of destruction) and proceeded to talk mad shit about people between rounds of beer—or rounds of mimosas for yours truly.

As the conversation turned towards lodging for the night, I thought back to what awaited me at the Cannery Pier. We eventually went our separate ways, and soon enough my fellow journeyers began to share images of their campsites. Each and every site came with exquisite water features that put my rainwater showerhead to shame. Truly, it looked like a great time. A real “connecting to nature” experience. Despairing at the lack of natural beauty surrounding me like these other lucky souls, I tentatively shared an image of my very own humble abode for the eve.

Day Two - Placeholder For Witty Yet Relavent Title

The second day was a doozy, as an early start in the AM would pair with a late bedtime eighteen hours later… again… in the AM.

The breakfast joint parking lot was where I first laid eyes on @beefchips’ old KLR650, and if I had known better, I would have parked far, far away from that machine, what with it’s appetite for destruction (cue music). A few more showed up late for breakfast (likely unaware that we were using Canadian time), then South of Rockaway Beach we welcomed the last few members of the group at the Tillamook Air Musuem. @thebarber took the quintessential ADV rider shot on the way in (seriously, how badass is this photo) and then in what would become a common occurrence, the KLR decided that actually, it would prefer to take a nap in the middle of the road thankyouverymuch. Good times all around!

Now where were we… oh. Right. Enter the Tillamook Aviation Musuem, stage left.

Not a big aviation buff myself, the architecture of the hanger was what drew me in. I’d share a picture, but like, have you seen the photography that @CB published earlier?? What’s the picture-taking equivalent of a crayon doodle, because that’s about where I’m at in comparison. I need every single pixel my smartphone can muster, as I don’t know the first thing about framing shots. I crop that shit like a British barber post Peaky Blinders and just…hope for the best. But @CB..? This kid (and by kid I mean adult that shares the exact same age and I believe birth-month with me) has talent.

After the aviation stuff, we went over to the Tillamook factory, where I let Fancy AIM out briefly to wax poetic over Tillamook’s 2012 vintage cheddar (strong notes of…cheese), and then we were off to get murdered by @dr-zoidberg probably find our campsite for the night.

For whatever reason, I was given point once we hopped onto a forest service road, and after riding through a river that came up to my thigh I stopped to watch @decay-still-has-too-many-beaters traverse the crossing on his Africa Twin. Quite the sight! After making it across he decided to follow suit, and we both watched the last rider as they piloted their Kawasaki through the waves. But uh… when you have two people stop on the trail, something funny happens. I’m not exactly sure how to put this but uhm… there’s no room for rider number three. With a choice between running straight into @decay-still-has-too-many-beaters and dropping the bike, @EvilEllie666 took the high ground (figuratively, definitely not literally) and sent it into the water.

Our bad!

We all set up camp and proceeded to mercilessly micromanage @spacekraken as he tended to the fire. Serves you right for being useful while we sat around drinking spicy beers and Moscow Kiev Mules! That said, he kept at it despite the abuse and eventually we had some nice ambience courtesy of the flames.Thanks @Spacekraken! #becomeungovernable

Meanwhile, @Jminer pulled a real power move by not even staying the night, having traveled some fifteen hours to show up—flex—and head straight home. Truly a gigachad, a real legend among men, not willing to be outshone by even @decay-still-has-too-many-beaters’s highlighter-yellow Aerostitch.

Twas a late night, and a great night.

Day Three - Bumps & Bruises

With @decay-still-has-too-many-beaters unable to continue due to a prior engagement, There but remained two motorcyclists. An on-the-spot field promotion via general @AMGtech was in order, but the question surely on everyone’s minds was who would receive the vaunted honor. Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Didn’t the only other active rider just get their first bike a month or so ago, and hadn’t they crashed about eleventy-billion times before you even reached the offroad area..? And, uh…Haven’t you been commuting year-round on sky-high Enduros and V4 Sportbikes? Don’t you have a combined 40k miles on two wheels? Aren’t you a checks notes Busa Boi? This hardly seems like a fair fight, right?”

To which I say, listen here you little—

Ahem.

I graciously accept my position as Lead Rider, and I promise that this newfound power and responsibility will be used only for good. To those of you who have chosen me, I thank you. To those of you that harbor doubts, I shall endevour to show you my strength of character, my infallible sense of justice, my outstanding fortitude of will—Proceeds to lead the group to numerous deadends, before low-siding on a banked dirt wall, stalling out, crashing on a hill, removing all gear and giving up.

Seriously though, the offroading was a blast—in a type II “will I die or won’t I die” kind of way. I learned a lot and feel like I’ll be ready for even more next time. Ditching the cooler and Rotopax cans is a priority for any future offroad trips. They’re cool for the Instagram ADV cred, but you know what else is cool? Drugs Not lugging around an extra fifty pounds of weight. I never even filled up the gas can, the stuff in the cooler could have fit in my side bags and as for water? Water..? Hold a cup up to the sky, problem solved. On the flip side, the new bag up front was a gamechanger, giving me quick access to various bits and bobs. Oh, and the panniers that I constantly decry as wholly inferior to Givi hard cases help up superbly to abuse, and were the first point of contact with the ground whenever I tipped the bike over. Without ‘em, there’s a fair chance my lower legs would have been pretty mangled.

That said, there’s an elephant in the room that must be addressed…

@Beefchips’ old KLR650. Now, I’m hardly one for superstition, but there comes a point where even I can no longer discount the penchant for blood this venurable Kawasaki has shown time and time again. First it munched on @Beefchips’ ankle, requiring a Heli evac. Then a few months later it did the same to @Evilellie666. During our adventure, I witnessed no less than three attempts from the KLR to kill it’s rider on-road, and off-road… truly nothing could satiate this foul beasts’ hunger. Water crossings, rock beds, slopes and descents, the KLR came crashing down upon all manner of trail features. Despite the masochistic abuse, with each hit it’s power only seemed to grow—the curse gathering strength before hunting out the next crash-site. I myself almost succumbed to the monster, as it went for me on a particularly daunting slope. My Husqvarna valiantly tried to hold it off to let me escape, and in the end they were both brought down… Your sacrifice won’t be in vain, Husqy!

Now, the astute among you may think you see a solution, that it’s time for this damned motorcycle to be passed on once more—let it victimize another poor rider—but respectfully I’d have to disagree. You see, I think in @Evilellie666 the devilish dual-sport may have met it’s match at last. Despite the bike’s best efforts it failed in all efforts to damage them in either body or spirit. Is it possible… could this dark power… be tamed? If one truly did learn to harness the bike’s will, their partnership would be capable beyond belief.

Only time will tell.

As with all things, the fun had to end eventually. It was time to return home. And that meant going back to the Cannery Pier Hotel to live out the rest of my days two-hundred miles along the interstate to head back to Seattle.

According to first-hand testimony from Satan himself, Hell was actually created as a watered down version of the Olympia-Tacoma stretch of I-5. The more you know! An absolute slog in the best of times, the massive highway ground down to a halt in numerous places, making for the worst commute I’ve ever experienced in Washington. Royally fed up with the traffic after a mere twenty minutes, I started lane splitting. When I wasn’t riding along the shoulder avoiding slowdowns caused by wrecks, I was speeding along at redacted miles-per-hour, cursing the powers-that-be for not making rubbernecking a capitol offense. A 41mpg tank is testament to the anger with which I rode, but if Discord message timestamps are anything to go by, I arrived home a good two and a half hours earlier than our crustacious friend! I’m pretty sure if motorcycle manufacturers made a documentary of this commute and marketed it towards those living along the I-5 corridor, their sales figures would increase 100-fold.

As it tends to do, Seattle welcomed me back with a storm, but the sunshine of my eyes was waiting with bated breath and fresh rubbers for my return. A quick ride had her purring, her newfound grip leaving me gasping for breath, heartrate elevated. A far cry from the past few days’ rides!

Both bikes tucked away, I went into my apartment at last and I wished only that I could have extended the trip further and joined for the Bend section. Work however would not allow it called me thirty minutes after making it back home and offered me the rest of the week off.

Sigh.

[jminer]

@AestheticsInMotion Very well written - I love the color commentary tossed in to the description of the weekend!

Meanwhile, @Jminer pulled a real power move by not even staying the night, having traveled some fifteen hours to show up—flex—and head straight home. Truly a gigachad, a real legend among men, not willing to be outshone by even @decay-still-has-too-many-beaters’s highlighter-yellow Aerostitch.

I'm not sure whether this is a compliment or not, but this is true. I stopped at 1am and slept for a few hours in a rest stop south of Eugene then hit the road again at 7 heading towards home. I should have been smart and taken another couple days off of work and really enjoyed myself with the rest of the crew. I still had a blast though!

[AestheticsInMotion]

@jminer a genuine compliment, it was great to have you there and incredibly impressive given your time frame!

[WhoIsTheLeader]

@AestheticsInMotion This is probably the best writeup of this event I've yet seen. If only you could steal CB's pictures, you could make a mega post that could not be stopped!

At least until the Kawasaki gets jealous for attention.

Also, everyone looks about 37% more hipster than I picture them as being.

[spacekraken]

@AestheticsInMotion said in AestheticsInMotion - Finding Oregon:

We all set up camp and proceeded to mercilessly micromanage @spacekraken as he tended to the fire. Serves you right for being useful while we sat around drinking spicy beers and Moscow Kiev Mules! That said, he kept at it despite the abuse and eventually we had some nice ambience courtesy of the flames.Thanks @Spacekraken! #becomeungovernable

I had one job and I was gonna do it! Thank you all, what an absolutely wonderful time.

@WhoIsTheLeader I am 43% more hipster than you think. Don't be fooled by the automatic station wagon

[TheBarber]

@WhoIsTheLeader said in AestheticsInMotion - Finding Oregon:

Also, everyone looks about 37% more hipster than I picture them as being.

Well it is the PNW soooooo

[AestheticsInMotion]

@WhoIsTheLeader said in AestheticsInMotion - Finding Oregon:

If only you could steal CB's pictures

He shot the header picture! And the highlighter one! Probably more, it's a long post and I'm too lazy to scroll.

[WhoIsTheLeader]

@AestheticsInMotion He, I really do like the front of the highlighter suit one.

@TheBarber I think everyone looks like a hipster of they're outdoors in Oregon. If you're outdoors in Georgia at this time of year, you just look like a garden variety fool.

[CB]

@AestheticsInMotion Awesome write up. I should’ve stayed at your hotel and not the Motel 6!

And thank you for the compliments on the photos. Shooting anything in that museum was a nightmare.

[Alfalfa]

@AestheticsInMotion okay, hold up. I recall that @AMGtech had a coworker who bought that klr and promptly dropped it? Is this the same owner, or was it sold to someone else after?

[Wrong Wheel Drive]

@AestheticsInMotion said in AestheticsInMotion - Finding Oregon:

appetite for destruction (cue music)

I hope you arent referring to the Guns and Roses album, because that is hardly music!

Awesome trip report though!

[AestheticsInMotion]

@Wrong-Wheel-Drive oh lord. There you go again, tempting the banhammer!

(I actually much prefer Slash's solo work from the past decade or two, and his stuff with Myles Kennedy, so uh... You got any room in that flame suit?)

[Wrong Wheel Drive]

@AestheticsInMotion said in AestheticsInMotion - Finding Oregon:

@Wrong-Wheel-Drive oh lord. There you go again, tempting the banhammer!

(I actually much prefer Slash's solo work from the past decade or two, and his stuff with Myles Kennedy, so uh... You got any room in that flame suit?)

Its okay, I have HIGHLY suspect music tastes so most things I say about any tunes are hardly trustworthy.

[sony1492]

@TheBarber My -exact- thought aswell

[CaptDale - is secretly British]

@AestheticsInMotion Man that sounds like a hoot and a half

[AestheticsInMotion]

@CaptDale-is-secretly-British said in AestheticsInMotion - Finding Oregon:

@AestheticsInMotion Man that sounds like a hoot and a half

I'd go so far as to say it was two hoots and a holler.

[AMGtech]

@Alfalfa said in AestheticsInMotion - Finding Oregon:

@AestheticsInMotion okay, hold up. I recall that @AMGtech had a coworker who bought that klr and promptly dropped it? Is this the same owner, or was it sold to someone else after?

Nope same owner! @evilellie666 is one of my techs

[AMGtech]

@AestheticsInMotion said in AestheticsInMotion - Finding Oregon:

general @amgtech

LOL

@AestheticsInMotion said in AestheticsInMotion - Finding Oregon:

Work however would not allow it called me thirty minutes after making it back home and offered me the rest of the week off

Oh what the shit! You would've had a blast off-roading with us. Not only was it dry, it was a bit more approachable, without being too easy. But it was probably in the 20's overnight, because of the elevation

[decay still has too many beaters]

@AestheticsInMotion said in AestheticsInMotion - Finding Oregon:

@decay-still-has-too-many-beaters’s highlighter-yellow Aerostitch.

to be faaaairrr.. its more of a mustard yellow these days

[Vondon302]

@AestheticsInMotion Too good! and now I need a clawfoot tub with a view for my next vacation.

[Roadkilled]

@AestheticsInMotion

Your descriptions seem to match your sighting from Astoria.

[AestheticsInMotion]

@Roadkilled I was wondering if anyone would catch that.

[AestheticsInMotion]

@AMGtech it sucks, because I've really wanted to try more of that shrubland/desert offroady stuff instead of the deep woods nearby.