Goodbye Orv

Yesterday I lost a good friend and riding buddy, Orv Olson.  I've known him for over 20 years and still remember the day I met him.  Ross and I had been building and maintaining trails in the local riding area for awhile when one day he called me the day before we were to meet up for a ride to tell me he wanted to bring along another guy who wanted to get back into riding after recently retiring from work.  That was Orv.  We unloaded our bikes and headed up one of my favorite trails, and old abandoned logging railroad bed.  Being an old desert rider, this was one of my kind of trails......fast and flowing and not as technical as some of the rider-built trails.  I started out in the lead with Orv following me and quickly got in the groove and was going as fast as I could.  I had been up this trail dozens of times and knew it well enough to let it all hang out, but no matter how fast I thought I was going, Orv was always right behind me.  I was pretty impressed that a guy who was just getting back into dirt bike riding seemed to not be rusty at all.  I shouldn't have been.  Orv was a very good rider, as I soon learned.  In fact, at one time he was the Oregon state enduro champion.

That was the first of many, many rides together......most of the time in the early years with Ross, Orv and I working on building trails and maintaining existing ones and then riding what we had created.  Later, as we got older, the dirt bikes required more strength and coordination than we could muster and we gravitated to dual sport and street riding, but we were still riding.

I've gone through some of my more easily available photos and thought I'd share some of our times together.

This is me (left), Orv and Ross after unloading our bikes and getting ready to ride at a secret location in Oregon.  We often rode so far there that running out of gas was a big worry.

Here we are taking a break later on in that ride.  Orv is always recognizable because he was the only hairless one.

When we first started mostly street bike riding, we used to go on rides that would require overnight stays somewhere.  One time we stayed at a place out in the middle of nowhere Oregon that had a lodge with the only restaurant for miles.  When we got there late after a hot day the lodge was open but the restaurant was closed.  I rode 20 miles to the nearest town and bought a six-pack and a pizza to bring back for us to cook in the lodge's little kitchen, and it was a fine dinner.  Ross calls this picture the "pizza bike".

Another one of our overnight rides was to the Oregon coast.  Carolyn and I were riding two-up on this one and she took these pictures of the three of us.

Before we had GPS, paper maps were the way to go, and we were always looking for new, curvy roads to ride.  Orv was a master at finding them and was usually the ride leader.  I think he and his wife Gail had done a lot of camping and traveling in trailers and motor campers and he already knew a lot of good roads.

This was from another overnight ride that included this overlook of  Lewiston Idaho and the Old Spiral Highway.  

Not all of our road rides were totally on pavement.  This was Orv showing us the way to an overlook of the Klickitat river gorge that he knew about.  

Orv would find out about demo rides and invite me along to try out new bikes.  He was always buying something new, whereas I was always riding something until it wore out.  Here we are at a Triumph demo day at a local dealer, about to start out on a ride on the latest Triumph retro model twin.  Orv ended up buying one of these.  

And speaking of retro Triumphs, we both had old Bonnevilles that we restored to riding condition.  Mine had been in our living room for almost 20 years when Orv bought one and started riding it.  He seemed to be having fun on it, so I re-restored mine and we went on a couple of rides together on the old crocks.  Mine is in the foreground and his in the back.  

As part of the re-restoration of my Triumph, I converted the ignition and charging system to a modern electronic version and Orv helped me do that.  He was a good mechanic, and restored three old cars during the time I knew him.  Below is a picture of an old Hudson that he restored about the same time Brian and I were restoring the Mustang. 

I was lucky enough to plan a dream ride for Orv and our friend Big Mike back to the East Coast to rent bikes and ride some of the famous roads in the Blue Ridge mountains.  This was some months before he got his first diagnosis of lung cancer, and he felt very lucky to have been able to make this ride.  We rode the famous "Tail of the Dragon", with over 300 curves in 11 miles, and we stayed at the Deal's Gap resort where there is this "Tree of Shame" decorated with crashed motorcycle parts. 

Deal's Gap lodging

An overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway.  Big Mike on the left.  

Orv got to do one more multi-day ride with Big Mike and I last September when we rode up into Northeast Washington and Canada.  By this time Orv was weakening and wanted to tow his bike up to the area where the good roads were and avoid the long distance slog to get there.  This was his car and trailer that we used to get there.  

The drive up included a ferry crossing where I took this picture

On the second day of this ride I discovered that my rear tire, which I expected would go the distance, was not going to make it.  I found a shop about 50 miles away that had a tire in my size and Orv rode with me to get it changed.  To save money we dismounted the wheel from the bike ourselves in the shop parking lot, and Orv was a big help in doing that.  

Over the years other riders joined us on road rides and at times we had as many as six of us riding as a gang of old timers.  Here is a picture of five of us with Orv in the middle at on overlook of Mt St. Helens.  Big Mike was usually along, but by this time he had gotten a job in Northern Washington.  Besides he is just a kid at 50, and not really  an old timer.  

We are all going to miss Orv.  He was clever, funny, smart, friendly, and a hell of a rider.  

And he was my friend.  Goodbye Orv.  

Return to NE Washington

Last year when our planned ride to the Canadian Rockies got snowed out (see blog http://thegoodroads.blogspot.com/2017/09/the-fickel-finger-of-fate.html), we ended up riding some Good Roads that Big Mike found up in the north east part of Washington.  It was still pretty rainy or with wet roads, so we had to cool it most of the time, but we vowed to return and explore the area more thoroughly. 

After another hot and smokey summer, Mike and I planned for a September ride to that area and Mike did the planning for a three-day ride with staging each day out of Republic, Washington.  One advantage we had over last year was that we had some flexibility as to choosing the dates that would give us the best weather, rather than being locked into pre-set and approved vacation schedules. 

I spent some time talking to Orv about the ride and he got enthusiastic about it and decided to give it a try if he could trailer his bike up to Republic rather than ride the extra day or two each way.  Well, if he was going to ride in a comfortable air conditioned car instead of riding boring roads to Republic, than so would I.  I asked to ride along and share the gas expense and enjoy the company. 

Loading two street bikes into his utility trailer was not nearly as easy as loading dirt bikes.  I realized that loading a 450 pound street bike is like loading a 250 pound dirt bike with a heavy rider already on it.  Nevertheless, with help from neighbors and wives, we got it done with no drops.  We did have a minor problem with the front brake rotors on the bikes contacting the wheel chocks that were designed for dirt bikes with much smaller rotors.  If you look closely you can see where the rotor is making contact on my bike.  It wasn't much, but with the bouncing around that a bike gets in a trailer there was a fear that the rotor would get bent, causing some real problems on the ride. 

The temporary solution was to jam a chunk of wood in front of the tire to get the needed clearance:

Here is a pic of the loaded rig at my house where I loaded up my riding gear and clothes for the trip. 

I must admit I felt a little guilty trailering my bike.  It's the kind of thing the Harley riders do and that I make fun of.  Oh well, I guess I will be more tolerant and understanding in the future. 

About 50 miles from Republic we had to cross the Columbia river on a ferry (Keller Ferry), and the approach road to the ferry had us drooling.  I just had to come back on my bike:

The ferry was free and we were the only rig on it:

We got to the motel in Republic shortly after Mike and his friend arrived.  Mike's friend.....we will call him Mr X.....didn't want to have a picture of either him or his bike to appear in this blog.  He was apparently playing hooky from work and did not want to be identified.  Since only a few dozen people ever read this blog, I don't think the chances were great that he would get caught, but I will honor his request. 

The next day we rode our first loop, which went into Canada up the west side of Lake Okanogan  and then crossing the lake at Kelowna and back down the east side.  It was a scenic, but not particularly curvy route except for one short side route that Mike found.  Still, it was a good way to get started and see how compatible Mr. X would be riding with us.  The total distance was around 300 miles. 

Before I left on this ride I had agonized over replacing the rear tire on my bike.  It seems like every time I plan a long ride I have a tire that has tread left, but not enough to go the distance, so I put on a new one and waste some of the life of the old tire.  This time I knew I would have to replace the tire if I was going to ride up to Republic and back, but thought I could get by since we were trailering the bikes.  Bad decision.  When we got back from the first day's ride my tire had a spot that was almost down to the cord:

That faint diagonal line in the center of the tire is where the tread was almost showing.  No way could I ride another 700+ miles on that tire.  It was weird, because you can see just below that the tread was just down to the wear bar. 

This was a potential disaster, but by using the internet I found a few motorcycle shops between 50 and 100 miles away that might have a tire.  The only one that was open late in the day did not have a tire, and the rest would not open until the next day.  The next morning, after striking out at one shop, I found another one in Coleville that had the right size.  Orv decided to accompany me to go get it while Mike and Mr. X started on the planned route and would meet up with us later. 

I was very thankful that the shop had the right size tire as their business seemed to be mostly in selling quads to the local ranchers and hunters.  Still, the cost of buying a tire from a shop and paying them to mount it reinforced why I buy my tires online and mount them myself.  They wanted over $50 just to take the wheel off the bike, and then another $50 to change the tire.  I had the tools with me to remove and replace the wheel, so with Orv's help we did that and saved the $50. 

Removing the Wheel

Waiting for the shop to mount the new tire

Ready to Ride

It was a good thing we had two of us who knew what we were doing and that Orv was along to help get the spacers lined up and the axle inserted.......a job I often ask Carolyn to help me with when I do the job at home.  It was also a good thing that I had added a center stand to my bike that allowed us to remove and replace the wheel.  The total cost was $250, but I was happy to pay it.  

We did meet up with the other guys and got in about 250 miles.  

The third day was the best.  We hit all the most curvy roads, including Flowery Trail road: 

Bridge Creek Road: 

And Cache Creek Road: 

This was a long day.  I started around 8am and got back to the motel about 6:30 pm and went over 400 miles.  But it was a great ride on really good roads. 

The whole area we were riding in was very scenic, but we were in the go mode and didn't stop for pictures except for one time I convinced Mike, who was leading, to take a picture break: 

The drive back home was pretty uneventful except for a range fire along the freeway just before we got to Ellensberg: 

Fortunately, the road wasn't closed, but slowed down to one lane.   

A Different Kind of Ride

Every year the Vancouver Bicycle Club puts on the Ride Around Clark County (RACC).  The ride starts near downtown Vancouver and offers various ride lengths from 20 miles to 100 miles.  The 100 mile ride usually came by our house in the opposite end of the county.  I often thought about doing this ride (not the 100 miler), but the traditional date for it was in May, and it was often raining.......not the most fun way to ride a bike.  This year they wised up and changed the date to August and I decided to give it a try.  I have been riding my bicycle almost every other day, which is my summer exercise choice, but I haul my bike to Woodland and ride a level, traffic-free route mostly on dike roads that protect farm land from flooding by the Columbia river.  My route is about 18 miles and pretty much the same thing every time.  I was ready for some change.  I decided to do the 34 mile route, which is pretty wimpy, but still twice my normal ride.  One of the attractions of the ride was a barbecue at the end, including beer. 

Carolyn and I drove the van down to the start at the Pierson Air Museum, which is on the Fort Vancouver historic site.  Here I am getting ready to go:

It was a case of start whenever you feel like it, and I ended up riding with no other riders around for quite a ways after I got going.  There were markings on the road that indicated when to make a turn, and periodically there was a "reassuring" marker for continuing on in the same direction.  I found that without other riders around me I got the feeling of anxiety I used to get when desert racing and wondering if I missed a course marker.  And, in fact, I did miss one, but the road dead ended shortly so I didn't go too far out of my way. 

At the half-way distance they had a rest stop with all kinds of goodies to boost your energy.  Quite an upgrade from the bike rides I did in California where they would provide only water and some mushy warm bananas.  Here is a sample:

The course had been pretty level up to this point with a lot of dedicated bike lanes.  Still, it has been a long time since I commuted by bicycle and had to deal with city traffic and stop signs and stop lights.  It was a little stressful. 

After the rest stop we got into some pretty steep hills and roads without any shoulder.  Good that it was fairly early on a Saturday so traffic was light.  After the hills I was beginning to get a bit weary, and by the time I hit 30 miles I was ready for the finish and the beer and barbecue. 

Carolyn just happened to be bringing the van to the finish when I got there.  She had been walking and got in over 12,000 steps, so she got her big dose of exercise. 

The club put on a good feed; the beer was local craft brew:

And the pulled pork sandwich was delicious:

There was plenty of seating indoors in an old aircraft hangar:

An interesting thing, that you can sort of see in this photo, was that hardly anybody was less than 50 years old.  I'm not the only one who took to a bicycle when the old joints got too ruined from age and over use. 

It was a good day.  The weather was perfect and I got to ride somewhere different and stretch my effort a bit.  I was pretty mellow for the rest of the day.   

Beat the Rain

In fact, the prediction of rain might have been a bit overblown.  We've had a few sprinkles, but not much.  It is still in the forecast, though, and our gardens need it.

It was such a beautiful day with perfect riding temps that I just couldn't take the most direct route home.  I came up over Mt Hood and down a normally great curvy road into the town of Hood River, but the road was messed up by a lot of cinders left over from the last effort to provide traction in snow and ice.  So I rode backwards on the road that provided the view in my first day's blog, and then added the Vancouver area racer road from Carson to Cougar.  It was a great way to end the ride.  Today was 260 miles and I got home about 1pm.   The total trip miles was 2,353. 

I've got the bike cleaned up and on the lift ready for a bunch of maintenance, the most intensive of which is a valve check and adjustment.  Based on the comments yesterday from Mike, I checked the charge going to the battery at high rpm and found it to be normal, so I guess I just happened to have a couple of burned-out bulbs and not a voltage regulator problem.  I have been planning to install a voltage gauge and was just waiting for the valve check to give me a chance to install it.  My last bike left Carolyn and I stranded outside of San Francisco when the stator fried itself and the battery went completely dead.  A gauge will give me some warning about these problems. 

I'm thankful for a fun and safe ride for both myself and Jenny, and that Carolyn is not suffering too many after effects of the accident.  It's also good to be home. 

Doin' Miles

468 to be exact.  From Auburn to Bend.  It's not the shortest route, but it keeps me from going through Portland.  I had a good reason to put big miles in today; it's supposed to start raining at home tomorrow afternoon.  I would like to avoid riding in rain if I can.

The roads were straight freeways or two laners and in parts of I5 and hwy 97 from Weed to Bend I was doing consistent 75 mph.  The little Honda ate it up, but also ate up the gas.  I was getting down in the 60's in miles per gallon.

Not many opportunities for picture taking today, but how about a nice view of Mt Shasta from a different perspective than along I5:

And a picture of a very bug splattered bike:

I'm having some minor bike problems.  Jenny noticed yesterday that my tail light was out, but the brake light still works, so since I don't ride a night, it's no big deal.  Then today an oncoming driver turned his headlights on as he passed me.  I  thought maybe he knew bikes were supposed to have the headlight on at all times and was trying to tell me mine wasn't.  Sure enough, the next time I stopped I checked and my low beam was out.  So I solved that problem by turning my high beam on, which is a separate light on the other side.  Maybe it's a little bright for drivers I come up on from behind, but so be it. 

Tomorrow should be a fairly short day and hopefully I will get home before the rain starts. 

Local Rider Leads the Way

I regularly visit and post on a website for Honda CBR 500 riders.  I discovered that one of them lived not too far from Auburn and contacted him a couple of months ago.  He gave me his phone number and said to let him know when I get in the area.  I did that, and today he led Jenny and I on some of his favorite roads.  Since he was leading, and didn't have an intercom, I could not get him to stop for picture taking, so this post is going to be short on pics, but it was kind of relaxing to not have the navigating responsibilities.

Turns out this guy likes PMTs and one of them that he chose had several of the first ever 5mph turn advisory signs that I have seen.  I've seen lots of 10s, but never a 5.  He seemed pretty worried before we started on the road that Jenny would not be able to handle it, but she soon showed him that she is a very capable rider and had no problems keeping up.  He did include some faster, smoother roads and we all rode at pretty much the same pace.  It was a nice ride, but we had limited time, as Jenny needed to ride another 100+ miles to get home and also wanted to beat the Sunday traffic returning to San Francisco.

We did get this self picture of us at our lunch stop:

Rick actually has two CBR500s.......a 2015 "F" model and a new to him 2015 "R" model, which is what he rode today.  He is a bit younger than me at 65, but he has been riding for a long time and claims to  have done some track and road racing.  He is a good guy.

We got back to the motel about 1:30, and Jenny was underway shortly after:

She sent me a text that he got home safely around 4:30, so it was a successful ride.

One of my best ideas for this ride was to go to one location and stay in the same motel the whole time.  This meant we didn't have to pack and unpack our luggage every day, and we also didn't have to ride with it on the bikes.  For me, I notice the difference in the handling of the bike when it has the extra weight of the luggage, but it also allows me to get on and off in the normal "cowboy" way of swinging a leg over the seat.  This is much easier and more natural than the "Rocketts" high kick to get on with the side cases and tail pack mounted.

Tomorrow I start the slog back home.  I packed clothes for a three day trip, but I should be able to do it in two days.  It is actually a shorter distance than San Francisco, which I always did in two days.  There is also a forecast for rain at home on Wednesday, which would be nice to avoid.

PMT

The Butler maps have a category of road they call PMT, which stands for "Paved Mountain Trail".  We rode several of them today.  They look something like this:

Or This:

They definitely slow the pace, but are also often pretty bumpy and dirty.  Sometimes they lead to interesting places, like this bridge to bathrooms that you couldn't get to:

Jenny was her usual rebellious self and disobeyed the sign:

Today went much better than yesterday as far as navigating because there were no  road closures.  We did have a scare when a road we were on had a sign that said "Road Closed Ahead due to Snow".  Then a little later there was another sign that said "Your GPS is wrong.  The road ahead is closed due to snow".  I figured we were going to be in for another day of map reading.  I decided to continue on anyway just to get a picture for the blog of the snow-closed road.  It was a lucky decision, because before we got to the closure, we were instructed to take another road that headed south, not further east into the mountains.

In general, I followed the planned route using the GPS for most of the day, with one exception being a small loop I had planned to take off of the main general ride loop.  For some reason the GPS has a hard time with a route that comes back on itself and then continues on.  It kept telling me I was off route and wanted to calculate a new route that usually meant turning around.  We finally gave up on it, but it only cut out maybe 10 miles or so.  Still, it was another eight-hour day of riding and I was a tired puppy at the end.  Jenny seems to have more stamina than me even though she rides less.  Could it be the age difference?

Since it was Cinco De Mayo, we went out for a fine Mexican dinner: