It was a fast trip, with light traffic and minimal road construction. Not too many trucks, but the Harley traffic headed East for Sturgis was ever present, and really loud. I met a few characters in rest stops where I stopped to "rest", the most memorable of whom was a fellow from Washington State, who wandered over bare-footed munching an apple. He wanted to tell me about his motorcycle (a very nice one) and why he wasn't riding it on this trip (defying belief) and how I needed one of his peer cookies that a holistic health friend of his baked especially for him. They kept him awake and rejuvenated, he explained. As I was leaving, he ran over with four of these beauties in a paper towel and handed them to me, once again stating they were very filling, energizing, and utterly beyond belief. I thanked him enthusiastically, and put them in my tank bag.
Later, at the next stop, fearful of what magical ingredients or stimulating chemical formulations might have been added to these gems, I politely disposed of them. All I needed was to get high and crash. The latter hurts, as I understand it.
Because of the fast moving I was doing, I didn't take any photos that day. I stopped at St. Regis and camped, finding a little place that the Harley's were ignoring.
The next day I was up and out of there, forgetting to turn my Spot on. This caused my support team to become concerned later in the day, when they made e-contact to check on my well being. I appreciate that.
I rolled into Spokane to visit with my old friend Jim Goeke for a little while over coffee. He was shocked, shocked, to see me on such a large bike. I explained I was expressing my inner self, that I had always wanted to be larger than life, and so I bought this particular bike: they just don't get much bigger or badder than a BMW R1200GS Adventure. True statement.
I left Jim in Spokane, headed for the North Cascade Highway and the Wet Coast of Washington. The ride was uneventful, with light traffic and that huge wonderful bike. The bike just ate up those two lanes throughout the wheat lands, down and up through the canyons, and slowly, quietly through the little farm and ranch towns. I had never travelled this way before, and was once again impressed with what the pioneers had accomplished.
As I left Chelan, the clouds over the Cascades were threatening, and thunder could be heard. Just as I arrived in the vicinity of Pateros, the sky opened as if there were multiple fire hoses pointed straight down. I decided I would forgo camping for the night, and pulled into a hotel. There, I was able to get dried out, and a reasonably good meal.
From Pateros, I rode over the North Cascade Highway. I think the North Cascades are every bit as beautiful as the Tetons. However, there is more immediacy to the Cascades, as you are right in the middle of them. The Cascades are so much closer, whereas the Tetons are far off. And since you are in the midst of them, you get to ride all the ups and downs and twisty turns. It is a great ride, and I saw several other motorcyclists, including a set of four, each with a color coordinated single wheel trailer behind it. Quite cute, they were.
I rode over Deception Pass to Whidbey Island to have lunch with my best friend from High School, Jay Sigafoos, and his wife Carol. They are great friends, and had all their children and grand children there.
After a typically fantastic lunch prepared by Carol, and was off to cross the Canadnian border and get a bit closer to home.
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