So I've been dithering and blathering about all kinds of expeditions I needed to do SOMETHING There was this gathering of outwardly appearing "normal" people that I've visited before. IF your definition of normal is riding motorcyles AND hanging out in Enterprise, Oregon with people who only want to talk about motorcycles and going weird places with motorcycles ... THEN you need help. Yeah, guilty. I decided to go to the Wallowa Valley Jamboree in Enterprise, Oregon. I had been there in 2016 and 2017. And they remembered me. That fact alone usually makes a guy go all squinty eyed, lookin all around, gun hand free. But they stayed grinning so I figured if I was gonna get shot it would at least be by a friend.

The above stated abnormal behavior in combination with the dithering and blathering caused a terrible brain fart and somehow I thought it would be a good idea to traverse the length of the Blue Mountains in central to northeast Oregon. The biggest obstacle I have ever faced as a motorcyclist is the I-5 corridor. And somehow my addled brain thought it would be no trouble to add on a traverse of the I-5 corridor to any adventure. I blasted off on Sunday 20 June. I know you can do it and some enjoy it, but gliding along with 15 tons on the axle an arms length away is sort of unnerving. Add that to the fact that it was 105F rolling into The Dalles.

I thought I had been drinking plenty of water, well more than normal but I was so excited about getting away clean that I didn't notice I hadn't peed and didn't need to. Not normal for geezers.

About 20 miles south of Maupin there's a left turn onto the Pony Butte Road. I wish I hadn't been so tired because it was a delightful 1-1/2 lane paved road through a pretty rock canyon. Too tired to stop and take pictures. Went on through Ashwood and down Trout Creek maybe 15 - 20 miles through giant cattle ranches to get to Forest Service Land. Which means I was in cattleman's roads . There were a couple of greasy round rock tiny stream crossings that would have eaten my Vstrom alive. The Africa Queen cruised on through. Grinning.

I wasn't. I found the first hunting camp plopped down on my camp chair and just sat there guzzling water. It was 95 according to the bike on the way up. No sweat for hot land people but I've been on the Olympic Peninsula for 3 years. Not trained up at all. Just granola bars for dinner. No clouds so just used the tent as a bug net. Just laid there dazed, plastered on the side of the Ochoco.