Woke up to the sound of the Yakima River rushing by. What a peaceful location (since the kids pulled out). I stayed in the sleeping bag enjoying the solitude. It was soon disturbed by the sound of a generator firing up. Damn. Seems the folks in the Winnebago (the only other campers in the area) were early risers. Oh well, the peace & quiet was nice while it lasted. After a quick cup of coffee it was time to do a bit of maintenance. A heroic struggle ensued, but I was victorious, and the bike was up on the center stand (I actually pulled a neck muscle slightly tugging on the handlebar). My chain was getting loose, but not bad enough to make we want to attempt moving my axle bolts with the stubby little OEM wrenches. I'm going to throw together a better tool kit eventually, with a breaker bar long enough to do some good. I did a thorough visual, cleaned some of the dirt off, then noticed the crankcase breather tube. Oops, I'd forgotten that little item. When the cap came off it gushed!! My tires looked decent, although the rear was just starting to erode the wear indicators.

The saddle bags seemed a bit closer to the pipes than they were on day one, so I cinched them up a little bit. I managed to pull one of the internal d-rings out of shape. Must have been a bad one, since the others stood up to the same tugging. That's the only thing that went wrong at all with the RKA bags (RKA sent me a new one). They worked great for the whole trip. I highly recommend these bags for any bike. They are easy to put on and take off, hold volumes of stuff, and have an internal support strap system which keeps everything snug, and helps keep the bags in place when fully loaded. Really well designed bags.

After repacking I eased through the thick gravel parking area, then headed south through the canyon. I hadn't noticed the night before, but there was a rail line on the opposite side of the river. A long freight train was snaking through the canyon. Sure did envy the engineer. What a great job, rolling through the countryside, day after day.

There weren't any upside down cars on the road, so hopefully the kids made it home without incident. As the parent of a recent high school grad, I always worried when the kid was out. You know that once in a while they're going to do something stupid, even the best of kids. It's a part of growing up. It's just so sad when one or more of them pay with their lives for one mistake.

Turning east on Highway 12 took me to Naches, where I stopped for gas (45.9 MPG) and breakfast. While chatting with the waitress, I mentioned my plans to visit Mount Rainier. She informed me that SR 410 was not always open, even this late in the season, and recommended that I remain on 12.

Highway 12 was another incredibly scenic drive. There's enough lakes, campsites, and parks on that drive to keep you outside for decades. Sadly, I never did get a really good close up view of Mount Rainier. I had seen it clearly from the interstate nearing Ellensburg the day before, but there was just too much cloud cover today. Much of the ride near the mountain was cold. The roads had been recently cleared of snow, and there were still substantial snow banks on both sides.

I just drove around a bit, stopped in at a visitor center, then headed out the southern side of the park. Mount St. Helens was probably out or range, so I continued on to Ashford, gassed up (50 MPG), then backtracked 3 miles and turned off on a small state road which returned me to Highway 12. These small state roads are fun to ride. Not so much for the road types or conditions, but for the views of "Americana". Living in a major urban area like the SF Bay Area, you lose sight of the true West. It's amazing how many small farms and ranches are out there. Seems like many more people have achieved their "40 acres and a mule" than you realize. Quite a contrast to the plague of condo's & townhouses contaminating California. In the SF Bay Area the only affordable dream is 3 bedrooms, a postage stamp backyard, and a weedwhacker.

Nearing Mount St. Helens, the weather turned colder and wetter subjecting me to a constant drizzle with occasional periods of substantial rain. My prior visit to this area was back in August of 94, but it was a totally different experience this time. The mountain still looked like the aftermath of a nuclear war, but on this trip there was a lot of snow on the ground. The last trip it was hot as hell, and now I was freezing my buns off. The visitor center provided an opportunity to warm up, grab some coffee, and buy a few souvenirs.

Hoping that the rain would stop, I sat around, but eventually gave in and hit the road. My map was a little confusing, but Route 503 through Cougar, Amboy, and Battleground, with a final stop in Portland looked like a good plan. My gas stop in Cougar was encouraging (49.6 MPG!). The entire ride was wet. 503 is a rural stretch, with numerous twisties interspersed with small valleys populated by small farms and ranches. There were many times when I could barely see, yet the locals were zipping by me in their SUV's, their wipers flapping at Warp 7. They sure must know their roads well. I'm not used to seeing cars taking mountain curves at 10-15 MPH over the posted speeds in a driving rain.

The first real break in the weather was Vancouver, and it held up for the rest of the day. Wanting to see game 5 of the NBA finals, I pulled into a motel in Wilsonville, Oregon. The smorgasbord restaraunt next door forced me to stuff myself shamelessly, then I waddled back to the motel for the game. The game was fantastic (although I would have rather seen the Jazz win that one), then I did a bit more map studying, and dropped off.

Tomorrow: Wilsonville to Crescent City, Ca.

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