invasion of america - day three

The Perch - Wenatchee, WA.
Wenatchee, WA - Dayton, WA - Lewiston, ID
280 miles.
Perfect sunny conditions - 95 degrees.


Candyland.

It all starts with Mike's dog drinking some anti-freeze. It didn't die, but the concern over his dog kept us from departing on time. No matter, I was running behind with last minute "cuts" with my packing and I kinda needed the time, so it was okay. In the final cut was the video camera so there will be no magic to remember via moving photos. The only magic will be motionless... Unless you use your mind.

I was so preoccupied with what I wanted to take, I didn't bother to ask myself if I could. This isn't the biggest bike in the world and I don't have an unlimited amount of space for comfortables and would-be-nice's. In the end, I settled for camping gear, sleeping gear, three changes of clothes, two coats, bathroom goodies, my computer, the little camera, some tools, a first aid kit and some reading material. All totaled - 95 pounds of gear that I simply MUST have. I MUST!!!!

Shoving all that gear onto the bike took some doing. It was a lot like a plus size woman stuffing herself into a pair of size 4 pants. It wasn't pretty, most likely illegal and nobody wanted to help. With a few strategic shoves and tucks, I got it all in. I looked like the cartoon version of the Grinch after he robbed Whoville. I was so amped, that I didn't even ask if this was safe or not. I just started the bike and took off. If the tires pop then I know I packed too much.

Mike rides a HUGE Suzuki that only holds two gallons of gas in its tank, which means he only has a riding distance of 75 miles. That means we have to stop every hour to fill his tank. It also means that if there are any long spans in our path, we have to re-route. As late as we started and with Mike already in an emotional place over his pup, I wasn't ready to bother with this issue. As I see it - these things are just going to happen. I also forgot my watch and my gloves. To very important things in my world. The watch particularly.

We pulled away from the perch at 1:30 P.M. It was sunny and a bit chilly. The bike wasn't really too happy about the weight but it handled perfectly. We rode north to the BMW dealership for some minor adjustments and then we were gone!

North on I-5 to I-405 then to state Highway 520. All of this was loud, busy and worthless riding, city stuff mostly and that is never fun. But it was nice to feel out how Mike was as a rider with his bike and so that made the hour or so that it took to get out of town a good learning experience and it took my mind off the ridiculous traffic. He's a good rider. It's a crazy bike - No windshield and he only rides with a small skull cap and sunglasses. He's getting the shit beat out of him every time we hit 50 MPH. It's also a really, really loud bike. REALLY loud. Thankfully, I spent .50 and got some ear plugs at the BMW dealership. I think it's the best four bits I ever spent.

We got lost with our first read of the map.

I was following Mike's lead because he said he knew, "a way". His way got us twenty-five miles south of Hwy 2 with no idea how to get to it. Fortunately, my tire was low and pulling over to get some air at an auto body shop not only gave us safe tires, but it also gave us directions. These are the kind of directions that men only give other men. These are directions that women never hear about and they involve a lot of hand gestures, pointing at invisible structures, turning of the body to illustrate the "turns" and a lot of under the breath cussing and staring at the floor.

The road that our air pressure savior delivered us to was just pure heaven. Within moments, the city was gone and the open air of the country surrounded us. For some reason everything I looked at was just too beautiful to describe in justifiable words and I was thinking of the all the Danists when I was trying to recall what I was going to say about them. The only real thing I could think of was just how beautiful and tasty everything looked. It all just looked like food!

Mountains that looked like coffee ice cream with hot fudge trees dripping down the sides of them. Large rivers with root beer float foamed rapids and marshmallow boulders blocking the way. The wind was blowing through the cotton candy trees with taffy leaves and over the fields of uncooked spaghetti wheat. Occasionally the sun would disappear behind a tree and a kaleidoscope of hard candies would appear on the ground around me. It was really breathtaking and it made me really hungry.

I knew it was going to be a great tour when the first set of mountains rose up from behind a hill as I rode up it's slope. The further up the slope I got, the more the mountians rose up behind them. It looked staged and engineered. I could have cried.

We rode east on Highway 2 over Steven's Pass and down into Leavenworth, Washington. Leavenworth is a Bavarian themed town that some former city planners thought would attract some much needed tourism to the area. They were dead-on right. The town was packed with late season tourists eating eight dollar brauts and ten dollar beer. Every building was coated with a Bavarian cream and it was just too hokey to stick around.

We pulled into Wenatchee at 6 and the first thing I did was cut my hair. For those of you that know and love me, this hair isn't going to surprise you very much. If you don't know but you still love me, this hair isn't going to surprise you very much either. I just felt I needed a new doo and I almost got a Mohawk. I think I will get one in Montreal to celebrate my arrival. We'll have to wait and see.

The show was sparsely packed, but it went down well and I was able to get back to my room early and then I started to rethink my gear. I have waaaay too much stuff that I just don't need.

We shoved off at 8 A.M. and made it to Dayton around noon. I unpacked my computer, it's accompaning electrical stuff, some clothes and some other knick-knacks that I just don't think I need on this trip. It's too much weight on the bike and I don't need the headache of wondering whether or not my computer is safe all the time. I opted for only those things that I need for this trip and for those things that make me look really, really sexy. (the leather jacket)

I washed the bike, had a quick bite to eat and we pushed on to Lewiston. The drive across the Palouse and the south central part of Washington is always a good time for me so I really soaked this up. Again, the food descriptions fit what I saw from my bike the best and when I say that the ground looks like it was coated with cinnamon and then cooked like a cinnamon roll, I mean it really looked like a cinnamon roll. It was browned with just a little bit of light brown dough showing through from beneath the crumbly cinnamon. You could just eat it. The charred parts of the Forgottens look like a well done BBQ ribs - Very black and very boney. It's still painful to think of how much was lost back there. Thankfully all the farmers got their crops up before their fields were burned. I doubt that too many of cared that the fire swept across their crops and reseeded their fields for them - FOR FREE!!!. They would have had to burn their fields anyway so I guess this year they don't have to pay for it. Their fields, by the way, looked like someone had sprinkled cocoa powder on top of it. It was very dusty.

Foolishly, I rode without my helmet when I got into Idaho as I was informed by Mike that it was legal to do so here. It's 200 miles across this state and it's some of the curvest and scariest riding of the trip. I doubt that I am going to ride without the helmet the rest of the way, but damn did it feel good to finally ride without one. I can see why so many choose to go cranial al fresca.

So I head off to Butte tomorrow and then it's just me and the open road for a long, long time. I say goodbye to Mike, who heads back to Tacoma and I head east to conquer the world. No one to ride with, no one to share with, no nice hotel to rest my toesies after a long day riding - nothing but the dream. From here on out, it's me and the bike. With the lack of the computer, it might be a bit until I find a place to post again. However, news from the tour spies tell me that I might have to change my tour to accommodate for a blazing inferno in Eastern Montana. That might shut me down for the night in Billings, Montana which would mean I will be a day behind schedule, BUT I will be able to post if I stop and get a hotel.

I am still alive.
I head on to Butte, Montana tomorrow.
Oh, Mike's dog is okay.
Cheers.