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June 28

I woke up in Sequim and took another crack at finding the Dungeness Loop.  Went to the not-too-easy to find Tourist Info bureau.  Sure enough, one of the old, retired fellows working there rode a BMW. Bikers are everywhere. Nailed the optimum routing for the Dungeness Loop and headed for Port Angeles. There’s a town that needs a highway bypass. Clear of the urbanity, I kept heading east to.  The road through Joyce is not particularly scenic or remote as the houses and farms don’t fade away until well past the intersection with the Piedmont Rd.  The pavement was also surprisingly poor, especially after you hit the beach halfway through and then corkscrew along, just inland enough to keep you from seeing the water.  By the time I hit the junction, I was ready for the beautifully engineered piece of pavement between the junction and Clalam Bay.

Past Sekiu, however, it is reasonably remote along the shoreline. Beautiful, but could use repaving. This is one of the roads you take, just because it looks cool on a map.  On the way back, the Ozette Rd is slippery due to tar being placed on it. Lost Resort has the westernmost pub in the US and has beautiful lakeside camping. there is a nice trail apparently that goes out to the beach.  You don’t exactly get a warm welcome here on a bike, though.

June 29

A woman on Hoh Rainforest Rd gave me shit about passing the cars at a construction zone.  Ah, but there’s no better place to be on a sunny day than in a place it rains 100 inches a year.  I go all the way down to Tokeland.  Had to get a T-shirt from here.  I could have sworn I saw some weird bike with a one-wheeled trailer on 101 near 107 Jct. Or maybe I just spent too much time in Tokeland.

June 30

I'm in Aberdeen.  Out to the beach where the scenic route is not so scenic. Very nice below Grayland, though.  I decide to go off the North River Road, thinking I’ll maxburns it on a touch of gravel to connect with Centralia. I’m 6 miles into what my map showed as a 5 mile stretch of gravel.  Then, I come around a corner and see, glimmering in the late afternoon sun, Mt St Helens, timeless and elegant, rising majestically above the rolling clearcuts which are in various stages of regrowth.  In the foreground a tree, on which a number of people have marked their tribute, has a sign which reads "Rex Taylor, Harley Davidson 1944 – 1997.  Rest in Peace, Rex.

My Saturday begins normally: an early drone down 99, hop the border, breakfast at Nick’s just south of Bellingham, Chuckanut Drive and hence to Whidbey Island. I check out a TE option I missed the last time I was on Whidbey and then head for the ferry to Port Townhend.

While waiting for the ferry, I heard an interesting story. A few years ago a there was a series of strange motorcycle accidents on the island. Three dead riders were found with their mangled bikes at different places on the island. A fourth rider subsequently reported that the driver of a blue pickup had waved him to pass and then had tried to turn into him as he did so. The alert rider was able to avoid being hit and reported the model of the truck to the police. Blue paint had been found on all three of the crashed motorcycles and the police were able to find, charge and convict the guy. Apparently he was a sailor at a local military base and his wife had left him for someone with a bike.

On the ferry I bump into a couple of women riding Ducks. As is my habit I start to flog (the finally printed) DHBC to them but it turns out one of them had just picked up the copy she had ordered.

Once in Port Townshend I book the last available room at the Manresa Castle and then head out to check out Cape George Rd just south of town and west of Hwy 20. It’s a nice little ride which winds along the shore of a bay called Port Discovery. Then I cross Hwy 20 on a little connector road which takes me over to Hwy 19 and the start of the Irondale Rd. This takes you to Port Hadlock (turn left at the stoplight) the start of a TE on the Oak Bay Rd which runs, largely through forest, to Port Ludlow (stay straight at the PL village centre) and ends at Hwy 104. It sure beats Hwy 19 if you are heading south from Port T.

Then I head west on 104 and take the first left (Thorndyke Rd) down Toandos Peninsula. When you get to Coyle Rd turn left. (If you turn right, the pavement will eventually end. In an unmarked, blind, off-camber, downhill corner. Exciting.) Turn right on Dabob off Coyle and take the first left. The TE will end when you get to the turnoff for Quilcene. Quilcene is a full service town and the start of a good DH on Hwy 101 down the Hood Canal. Reluctantly I head out of Quilcene the way I came in and head back to Hwy 104. Across 104 you take the first major left and then a quick right onto West Valley Rd. This is a pleasant ride along the farmland on the west side of the shallow Chimacum Creek Valley up to Hwy 19 and Chimacum. This route sure beats 101 north from Quilcene if you are heading north to PT as I was.

From Chimacum I motored back to Port Hadlock to check out Hwy 116 out to Fort Flagler which sits on a headland across from PT. I wasn’t expecting much from this road so it’s great curves on the southern end come as a pleasant surprise. As did the pretty view from Nordland out over its harbour. At the tip of the headland on the east side there is a pretty nice beach stretching south across from Whidbey Island. The west side of the headland has the Fort Flagler State Campground on a flat, open patch of land with a view of Port Townshend and west to The Olympic Mountains. It’s the nicest spot around here if you are camping.

As the light fades I head back to the Castle where I learn two interesting things. One is that the third floor (which I’m staying on) is supposed to have two ghosts. I keep an eye out for rocks outside my door before heading down to the lounge. Here I learn interesting fact number two: the bartender free-pours the scotch I order which is larger than the double I’d ordered in Silverdale the week before. And it only costs $5 with the coupon I’d received on checking in. The food wasn’t bad either.

The next morning Mike calls and tells me he’ll be on the 9:30 ferry from Whidbey. I log my tapes and read about the Manresa ghosts (who didn’t visit me) while waiting. I’m kind of surprised when he doesn’t roll off the ferry at the appointed time, as he is usually punctual. He was attempting to pick up a last TE on Whidbey and cut the time too close, forgetting the cardinal rule of ferries: they only run on time when you expect them to be late.

I leave a message for him about a rendezvous spot and head off to the Hood Canal bridge, again via the TE to Port Ludlow. I had done part of the Big Valley Rd TE (off Hwy 3 to Hwy 307) previously at night and was looking forward to its good pavement and twisties in the daytime. And it didn’t disappoint. At the Kingston ferry terminal I head south on Kingston Rd-Indianola Rd-Millers Bay Rd to Hwy 305. I think these three roads together will make an acceptable TE. At the south, it junctions with Hwy 305 where the Suquamish people practise their traditional culture running the Clearewater Casino. The parking lot opposite is filled with cars, motorcycles and boats for sale. Presumably by unlucky patrons.

Down to Bainbridge Island now where I think I can patch a TE together from its many sideroads. Unfortunately it’s too complicated to explain here. I head back up to Poulsbo where I find Mike’s bike parked outside a winebar. Inside I find they have a microbrew called "Fat Tire". Gotta have me some of that.

After lunch we head out to The Great Peninsula (west of Bremerton) which is covered with a myriad of interesting looking lines. We eventually patch together what we think will be a respectable DH between Gorst  and Tahuya (turn right at the unmarked road with the stoplight just east of Gorst on Hwy 3) made up of Belfair Valley Rd, Elfendahl Pass Rd and Belfair-Tahuya Rd. Elfendahl is particularly sweet. There is a TE through Dewatto composed of Dewatto Rd, Dewatto-Holly Rd and Bear Creek-Dewatto Rd (the latter incorrectly shown as part gravel on some maps) which runs through the most isolated part of the Peninsula. The northern road to Holly isn’t really worth it and neither is the cottagey North Shore Rd running along the north side of the Hood Canal. Sand Hill Rd running north just west of Belfair is pretty good though and will probably end up being a TE. I’m less sure of the Gold Creek Rd route ending up in Kitsap Lake.

Mike and I have split up to cover the last part of the Peninsula so I head to Port Orchard where we plan to eat and sleep. We go from just closed restaurant to just closed restaurant until we give up and flee to Bremerton. What can you say about a town whose most prominent architectural feature (other than the looming aircraft carriers) in the heart of downtown is a multi-storey parkade? It makes a fitting companion to nearby Silverdale. We can’t even find the closed restaurants in this metropolis so we finally give in and pull into a Dennys. At least it has a lounge (means you can order liquor and watch TV) to go along with its overly vivacious waitress. As we head off to the no name hostelry adjacent, I notice the Family Pancake House across some acres of asphalt. Noting that its name contains three of my favourite words, I suggest breakfasting there. "Ah, pancakes," Mike agrees, "nature’s most perfect sugar delivery system"

The next morning we head to Wauna, south on Hwy 16 to check out Hwys 302 and 106. 302 is a decent enough ride, though with quite heavy traffic, through unremarkable countryside. 106, along the south arm of the Hood Canal has some nice curves and much less traffic but on the waterside is pretty solidly residential with lots of driveways. Saw an STC or two as well.

After stopping for smoked pork at Hoodsport, we headed north on Hwy 101 along the upper arm of the Hood Canal. This is definitely a good quality DH: not much development, always close to the water, lots of curves and very good pavement. It’s a high speed DH that will end in Quilcene where I stopped two days before. North from Quilcene, 101 is much more boring. At Discovery Bay, Mike heads west for a few days of scouting out the Olympic Peninsula.

I head back to the Port Townshend ferry. Hwy 20 to Woodmans is great and will be a TE for sure.  The sun sets as I get off the ferry on Whidbey.  Once more, I can’t resist the lure of the Chuckanut. By the time I get there, the sky is made up of a higher band of aquamarine and a lower band of phosphorescent pink. The water is a sheet of polished stainless steel. All this and twisties with no traffic. A great way to end the day.

After Brian split for the Port Townhend ferry, I spent the remaining daylight hours looking for Twisted Edges around Sequim. I spent the night at the very reasonable and comfortable Sequim Inn. While my choice of restaurants was again limited to one due to the hour, the nice thing about this part of the world is that you can get fresh, non-imitation crab anywhere.

June 17

Alone yet again, I idle down 99 until a rabbit goes by me, offering up his scent to any speed tax collectors hereabouts. I pace him and arrive at the Blaine border crossing at about 9 am. Do my usual deke out of the PACE lane just where the two lanes of traffic split into the three open booths.

Determined to avoid Denny’s, I discover Nick’s Diner, on the left, just south through town. Nick normally has at least one cheap breakfast special. Meet someone there who is owed a copy of DHBC. I tell him he’ll get it next week but I know he doesn’t believe me. I don’t know if I believe me.

Doze down I-5 to Bellingham where I cross over to Chuckanut Drive (I just can’t resist this road) and head across the farmland to start what I suspect will be a DH at the Hwy 20 turnoff to Whidbey. It’s a great road with lots of smoothly-engineered curves on sweet pavement through a varied mix of forest, lakes, the high view as you take the bridge over to the island and then farmland among more stands of forest. Unfortunately, as is usual on this road, there is a flock of traffic accompanied by the usual STC shepherds. 

Past the ugliness of Oak Harbour, I reluctantly pass up Scenic Heights Rd as I’m doing the highway all the way down to Clinton at the island’s southern tip. By the time you pass Coupeville however, the road has seen its prime. The curves and scenic variety largely leave while the endless traffic and STCs don’t.  Bad combination.  I think the DH will have to end at sprawling Oak Harbour.

The rest of my day is taken up by checking out the more preferable sideroad TEs on south Whidbey all the way back up to Oak Harbour. The one that starts as Madrona Way  (watch for the Captain Whidbey Inn sign) turns left on the other side of Penn Cove, a minute or so from the end of Scenic Heights Rd. It's particularly nice. You wind along the shoreline through historic Coupeville (as pretty as Oak Harbour is ugly) then along more arbutus-lined shoreline and deep into the forest before ending up at the Hwy 20/525 junction.

There are a couple more good TEs down here.  One begins east off Hwy 525 as Resort Rd and winds around Holmes Harbour all the way to the pleasant town of Langley and then on to Clinton.  Another begins east  off 525 as Houston Rd before crossing over 525 and continuing as Smuggler's Cove Rd,  ending back at the main highway as Useless Bay Rd (you gotta love the road names on Whidbey). There is a third one as well  but it's too complicated to explain without a map, so you’ll have to find it on your own if you can’t wait for DH Washington.

I take the ferry over to Port Townshend where a square dance convention means there is no room at my intended hostelry --Manresa Castle-- a wonderful old Victorian pile. It’s too dark by now to tape, so I put my headlight fuse back in and head south looking simultaneously for some good roads and a nice but inexpensive place to stay.

I find the former but not the latter. About ten minutes south of Port Townhend, the Irondale Rd left off busy Hwy 19 takes you all the way down to the Hood Canal bridge (turn left at the light in Port Hadlock onto Oak Bay Rd) mainly through thick forest, and around Port Ludlow, thick retirement developments. I decide to pass on the resort at Ludlow (stay straight at the Port Ludlow "village" centre for the best ride to Hwy 104) and cross over the HC bridge.

Traffic is terrible on Hwy 16, so I turn off when I see a sign for the Manor Farm Inn located one mile down Big Valley Rd. The first mile shows this road has the potential of being a superb TE. Zip traffic and winding, smooth tarmac. The Inn looks great -nestled among trees set in farmland- but the price scares me further south. I know I’ll have to come back in the daytime to check out the road in its entirety so I head back to the highway to look at the map.

Hmmm.... Silverdale, just north of Bremerton sounds okay. And a good base from which to assault the roads I was planning on doing Sunday. Twenty minutes later, I cruise into a town with the highest ratio of asphalt to buildings I have ever seen. They sure like to drive here.  I swear to God, the only place I saw a sidewalk was between two parking lots. I did see a sign for Old Silverdale but I’m pretty sure it would turn out to be some three-year old townhouse development.

I pick a no-name motel, then walk across fields of pavement to the Inn On The Water, or some such grandly-named nonsense. My goal is a quiet bar where I can look over tomorrow’s itinerary. The only bar in the place has disturbing sounds emitting from it, but nothing is coming between me and a scotch.

Inside, a horrible scene awaits. One of the worst bands in the world is butchering covers in front of an audience of terribly dressed people, apparently dancing.  Older, single guys, obviously past their rowdy years, nurse non-alcoholic drinks at the bar and pointlessly scout the floor for prospects.   As well, I don’t lie, there is a table of Japanese tourists out for a night of American culture. They certainly found it. 

 I take the last spot at the bar and order a double Glenlivet straight-up.  The only way I’m going to be able to handle this place. They don’t even have peanuts, just those awful starchy things which have unfortunately become prevalent in so many bars.  An obvious sign of the continuing decline of western civilization.   I drain my drink (which turns out to cost a frightening CDN$18.50! $20 with my cheap Canadian tip included) and flee as the band starts to murder Roy Orbison’s "Pretty Woman".

And now for dinner. I quickly discover that my choices within walking distance (actually, probably within riding distance too) at this late hour are Burger King and...well, that's it really.  After dining I linger, absorbed with mapwork, until a diffident Tiffany informs me they are closing and that I have to leave now.  I’ve never closed down a Burger King before.  Don't let anyone ever tell you there's no romance to life on the road.

Sunday definitely doesn’t dawn bright and sunny.  A soft day, as the Irish say.  I decide to wait and see if the predicted clearing materializes, so I can check out the appetizing looking spider web of black lines on the Great Peninsula hinterland west of town. I choose sleep over exploring Silverdale some more.  I’m sure the town’s even scarier in the daylight.

It finally stops precipitating but still looks very grey to the west so I alter plans and decide to head east.  I motor south on Hwy 3 and take the turn off to Port Orchard.  There is a nice enough TE which starts out by running along the water around a tip of the peninsula.  It then turns inland through some quiet rural areas and ends at the Southworth ferry terminal.  Then, I find an even better TE halfway back along Hwy 160 between Southworth and Hwy 16. (Turn south on Long Lake Rd, left on Mullenix Rd, then quickly right on Ollala Valley Rd).  It’s particularly sweet in the Ollala Valley and where it winds through the trees just south of the gas station/store which accounts for the Ollala map dot.  This TE ends at pretty Gig Harbour, a town obviously trying hard to become another tourist spot like La Conner.  Fortunately, it hasn’t yet quite succeeded. 

After lunch, I check out a loop TE west across Hwy 16 from town.  It’s not that long but it’s very complex, so, after chewing up a lot of tape and time, I decide if I’m going to be back in Vancouver tonight I better just check out the southern option for the Ollala Valley Rd TE and beetle for the Port Townshend ferry back to Whidbey.

I pack my video gear away into one of my panniers and take Mullinex back over to Hwy 16.  By the time I get to Hwy 160, the clouds are gathering ominously to the north, so I decide to see if I can catch a ferry from Southworth over to Seattle.  I roll up to the booth and ask when the next ferry is. "Now".  My favourite ferry answer.  Since they have already started to load, I don’t get on first as is the norm for the Washington ferries.

On the other side, I motor through the beauty of suburban south Seattle over to I-5.  I had forgotten that Seattle is now so big that they have a rush hour even on Sundays.  As I crawl along I muse that, like Vancouver, there is nothing wrong with Seattle that more people certainly won’t fix.  (Yeah, right.)

Glad I donned the raingear on the ferry, I I-5 it through intermittent showers, I think they are called, to the still nicely authentic small scale town that is Mt Vernon.  See it before it gets laconnered.  Chris at Draft Pic’s Bar and Grill tells me about a good French restaurant in town called Palmer’s (360.336.9699) run by a refugee chef from New York and his wife.  They appear to be closed Sundays.

Back on the home stretch I’m on I-5 autopilot, grateful for the 70 mph / 60 mph for trucks limit (I surmise the 80 mph for bikes must have fallen down).  I actually pass a SUV equipped state trooper speed tax collector who shows no apparent interest in me. I love having increased speed limits where you can actually pass STCs.  Needless to say, I’m surprised when five minutes later, just south of Bellingham an explosion of Christmas tree lights goes off behind me.  Guess my kmh to mph calculating skills are dulled by the lateness of the hour. That or I missed some downgrade in the speed limit.  Ah...I’m informed that it’s both.

Damn.  I knew it was only a matter of time until I lost my Washington virginity but really, what’s the point of losing it on an Interstate?  I can hear Mike lecturing me now.  While the tax forms are filled out I notice another STC collecting taxes a couple of blocks back.  It’s pretty the way all those lights bounce off and contrast with the dark green of the surrounding forest.

I’m grateful that, except for the collection agencies, I seem to have been forgiven for those unpaid tickets from a few years ago.  Done with the formalities (he pretends he’s writing a serious ticket which I pretend I’m going to pay), I ask the trooper if he knows any motorcyclists.  When he says yes, I offer some DHBC leaflets/order forms which he is eager to take.  "Might as well get something out of this", I say to him and the second trooper who has motored up to see what’s going on. They both laugh.

June 3 & 4

Finally, back in the saddle after over a month of crappy weather and seemingly endless DHBC polishing. I’m flying solo as Mike can’t get away this weekend. I’m up at an insanely early hour (at least for me) to beat the traffic at the Blaine crossing. At least that’s what I think I’m doing. Turns out, at this time of the day there is only one lane open, other than the PACE lane, so even though there isn’t much traffic there is no real way to do the old "shoulder" routine. So, ironically it takes me longer to get through this time than on the Easter weekend !

I ‘m the next vehicle at the front of the line at 8 am when they open a second lane. The guy in front of me is getting the third degree so I move over to the second booth. Must have startled the guy popping up like that (or maybe he doesn’t like motorcycles) because he eyes me like I’m some kind of unsavoury character. He finishes his lengthy list of questions with "What’s in your jacket?" "Mostly me." I joke. He doesn’t laugh.

I turn into downtown Blaine. I’m looking for a decent breakfast place but all I can find is a Denny’s. Among the 10 BC-plated Goldwings of various hues in the lot is one lonely Triumph Tiger. Denny’s menu is also in vivid colour and goes on for many pages. I’m writing a book, I don’t want to read one, so I give up and just ask for what I want. As I’m masticating, I think how much better the food looked in the menu. The friendly waitress asks how the food is. "Ah well, I don’t think you have the time" I reply, mildly. She retreats, looking confused. She’s lucky, she could have had to deal with one of Mike’s "Five Easy Pieces" orders.

The ‘wingers leave (heading across the Cascades to Winthrop) but not before stopping to ask what’s on my helmet. I go into my bike show sales routine and shower them with business cards. The Tiger rider is from the Island and asks me about the Gold River road. I tell him that it came in at DH4. He allows as how it’s a pretty good road, "...except in the heavy snow" I’m already impressed that he rides a Tiger. Now, I’m really impressed.

Naturally, I pass two nice looking cafes within the first five minutes after I leave Blaine heading south. I’m mapping the best back way to Bellingham west of I-5. Some of the roads shown on the map I’m using are gated, so I have to adjust the route I planned. Some early water views, then I idle through the (for no reason that I can fathom) popular summer resort sprawl of Birch Bay. This is followed by a grid pattern through an otherwordly mix of pastoral farmland and refinery/petrochemical plants before some nice twisties arrive along the Lummi River.

On the right bank of the river remotely-controlled model airplanes loop. On the left side of the river, a rather confused hawk soars. I head south on some straights before circling the peninsula at the south end of the Lummi Reservation. This part of the route -as it was years ago when I last came this way- has a sign saying it’s closed to through traffic. The reason for this is that the road on the east side of the peninsula runs right along what I suppose to be the traditional Lummi clam beds of Bellingham Bay and in spots it has been eroded away to one lane. The sign is probably what keeps the pylon count so low.

As I enter Bellingham (without having had to do so much as an inch on I-5), I notice a Triumph dealer so I stop in to say hello. I use my answer to the inevitable "What ‘dat on yo head?" question to sell the friendly folks there on carrying DHBC. Turns out they have a day trip planned over the North Cascades and up into Canada coming back west on the Crowsnest. They ask me what I think of this route. I suggest that doing a circuit combining DHs 34, 28, 13, 3, 21, 51, 26, 42, & 44 will give them a better taste of what southern BC has to offer. They’ll spend more time in Canada that way too, finding out how pathetic our dollar is. Tourism BC should be paying me.

Also turns out they organize weekly two hour rides on most Wednesdays through the surrounding countryside leaving at 6 pm from their shop. If you can’t make it then, you can stop in anytime and pick up a copy of the mapped out routes. Ask for Bob. (Champion Cycle (360.734.1320) is located at 615 W Holly St close to downtown.)

I’m out of town on Chuckanut Drive, the first scenic highway ever designated in the US. I’ve always liked this road for three reasons: the tight cliffside twisties; the scenery; the Oyster Bar Restaurant. Too bad the road is so short. Still, it’s definitely a DH. Then it’s TE time across the lush farmland of the Skagit River delta to the cute village of Edison with its popular Longhorn Saloon. Across more farmland and then more waterside winding along Padilla Bay to a dot on Hwy 20 called Whitney.

My next TE is a back route from La Conner to the popular motorcycle saloon in Conway. Just more nice twisties skirting more pretty farmland. This saloon never seems to have less than several bikes parked in front. If you want a funky place to stay around here, go south on Mann Rd, just west of town across the river, for one mile. South Fork Moorage (360.445.4803) has a fairy-tale cedar-shingle clad houseboat, complete with cooking facilities, which they rent out. Looks like a great spot.

South of Conway, I check out the 35 mile or so circle route around Camano Island just east of Stanwood. Minimal twisties and no scenic views. And it’s not even an island, anyway. Not worth the trip. Heading back to La Conner I have my second speed tax collector incident of the new season. My detector warns me and I can see him coming across the tabletop farmland from a good distance. To avoid tell-tale fork dive, I retard my progress solely with the rear binder and receive only an entirely acceptable headlight flash in return.

After threading through the tourist trap ("Tour buses and RVs MUST turn right") of La Conner, I cross the bridge over the Swonomish Channel and head towards Deception Pass via another back road TE. There is a restaurant in a nice spot on the water on this route.

I haven’t been this way for a while and make a couple of wrong turns. (Of course with DH Washington, you won’t!) My gas warning light glows red, so I switch to reserve. No problem, lots of gas close by. I cross the high bridge to Whidbey Island. There is a pretty nice view over Deception Pass from this height, degraded only by the hordes of people capturing photographic images of it.

I pass up a couple of gas stations, as its getting late and I want to polish off the north east part of the island while there is still enough light to videotape. Discover a wonderful loop I’d never been on. Great pavement, sweeping curves, some good scenery and little traffic. And suddenly, as I swoop around Mariners Cove, no gas. As I silently coast to a stop in what I think is a road to the bay below, I realize that this is the first time I’ve ever run out of gas on the Triumph. I also realize that lack of traffic in certain circumstances can be a bad thing.

Two cars drive up the "road" from below, their drivers apparently miffed by me "blocking" the road, even though I’m so far over to the side a Ford MegaSUV could get by. They don’t seem mollified when I explain that I ran out of gas. I direct them to freedom then quietly sweat in the late afternoon sun and find my cel phone has no signal. Nothing for it but to hike down to the houses in the Cove and ask for help. Or get shot in the attempt. I quickly discover the "road" I stopped at is just a driveway curving down to a house. The one which Grandma and Grandpa just left in their two vehicles.

I hike up to the nearest house on the other side of the main road and a very helpful lady offers me the remains of her lawnmower gas. I calculate it should get me to Oak Harbour, which I’m informed is nine miles away. I restart tape and proceed at a pace which wouldn’t alarm even the most tachophobic speed tax collector.

After refueling in the charmingly named but uncharming town, I head south and take what I know to be the terrific Scenic Heights Rd which skirts the eastern shoreline of this part of Whidbey. It’s even better since they chopped this road in two with a barricade several years back to prevent through traffic and create a bike route. Okay for me, I’m on a bike. The passage around the barricade is wide enough for a full dresser. For touring Blue Knights or the more regulation-adhering among you, there is a road inland bypassing this barricade. (We’ll show you this bypass route on the map in DH Washington.)

Some great sweeping and twisting right along the water on the north side of Penn Cove before I hook up with the main highway down island. This takes me around the west end of the Cove to the beginning of yet another TE. This one leads to the quaint old Captain Whidbey Inn, constructed entirely from logs. I’ve been here many times but have never stayed the night. I decide to pack it in relatively early and do the rest of Whidbey on Sunday. I book a table for dinner and hit the shower.

When I get back to my room there is a fair sized rock on the floor just outside my door. When I question the lady in the lounge opposite my room whether she noticed how it got there, she informs me that she doesn’t know anything about the rock but she knows that my room is haunted! By two different ghosts, no less. She assures me they are friendly but I ‘m not so sure a rock big enough to crack my skull is a sign of friendliness.

Just before heading into what I know from experience will be a good dinner, I check in with Mike and he informs me that we are going to get a last check at the final adjustments we had to make to the maps of DHBC to allow for the spiral coil binding. One of us has to go to Victoria. Tomorrow. He says it should be me since I am more "the map guy" than he. I reluctantly give up my Sunday riding plans on Whidbey and start looking at ferry schedules.

The meal was good though, as was the twilight view of pinkish Mt Baker soaring far behind the burnished copper surface of Penn Cove. I arrange for a wake up call at 6:15 and head off to bed with my two ghosts. I sleep like a baby in the country air, disturbed neither by ghosts nor by my wake up call. But I awake in time anyway. The night manager says they could hear me moving around above them so they knew I was awake. Didn’t ask how she knew it wasn’t some ghosts attacking me with a large rock.

Not much traffic this time of the morning. Heading north on the main route I quickly come to the conclusion that it’s a DH. Excellent pavement curving gracefully through rolling green fields, forest and scattered buildings. Just before the Deception Pass bridge, a rare car going the other way flashes me the universal warning of speed tax collector ahead. It’s too early to be going at speed tax triggering levels anyway but I wave a thank you. I think the earlybird STC actually smiled as he went by.

At the Anacortes ferry, I discover that Washington State ferries don’t take plastic. But if you want to make a reservation you have to give them a credit card deposit by phone. Huh?!? Appreciate the duty-free on board though.

I meet a couple of guys from the east coast on a Harley "Fly and Ride" trip out of Seattle heading to Victoria and Port Angeles. They have no maps so I offer to show them the DH83 alternative way in from the Sidney ferry terminal. Once I get them on West Saanich Rd I wave goodbye and wick it up. I wasn’t going to take the extra time to come this way, but I’m usually glad when I take this road rather than the Pat Bay Hwy. I was again.

April 21

We’d hoped to get out of Vancouver and across the US border the Thursday night before Good Friday but we got hung up correcting some final map proofs for DH BC and didn’t finish ‘til 2 am Good Friday. I had a touch of the flu and Mike doesn’t work well at these hours anyway. At about 1:30 am he described our progress as akin to working at the top of Mt Everest. Ever the early riser, he takes off for Victoria at dawn to deliver the proofs. I sleep in and head for the Blaine crossing about noon, still feeling fluish. Our plan was to meet up somewhere around noon. Nightmare line-up at the border; way, way before Canada Customs. It’s the Easter long weekend and there are only three open US customs booths, apart from the PACE one. Guess they figure any terrorists would be dissuaded by the wait. Never seen it so bad, must have been at least a two hour wait for the pylon people. ‘Course yours truly (a.k.a. Shoulder Boy) was through in 10 minutes. Still, make mental note to apply for PACE sticker. Apparently in an effort to encourage their use, the Canadian sticker is actually now free. Imagine that, a government actually giving you something.

I drone south on I-5 trying to outrun the threatening weather. Have a nice lunch at a Pike's Market bistro on the Seattle waterfront. Pick up two bottles of wine at a good wine shop there. Curse the Canadian government one more time over their stingy duty free wine limit. Meanwhile, Mike can't get on the 10:30 am Blackball ferry from Victoria to Port Angeles (on the Olympic Peninsula) because "their quota of bikes is full". He has to wait for the next one at 4:30 pm! We prefer the BC Ferry Corp policy of always finding room for an extra bike.

I continue due south (all except a not particularly good 40 km of sideroads southeast of Tacoma) on boring interstates in a successful attempt to avoid rain and deathly illness. After biking all day I end up exactly where I started --in Vancouver. But this one’s in Washington, just across the border from Portland, Oregon. Strange seeing Vancouver everywhere, even on the back of cop cars. By this time, Mike has finally made it down the Olympic peninsula on the east side of the Hood Canal via Hwy 101 (definitely a DH, he says) and is heading south. In the rain, of course. Meanwhile, I'm watching American Psycho in a nice cozy theatre. Not a particularly cozy movie though.

We finally hook up in Vancouver the next morning just as Mike’s odometer packs it in. This is a piss-off since TIRES works with distance measurements. Well, this is our Washington shakedown cruise, after all. We waste a good part of Saturday attempting without success to fix his bike in the Portland area by calling or visiting every Kawasaki dealer within 100 miles to find a new speedo cable it turned out wasn’t the problem. At least I got three nice pairs of motorcycle gloves while waiting: a kevlar armoured pair for regular use, a toasty "waterproof" gortexy pair for the rain, and a soft, beautiful fawn-coloured pair in deerskin for those dressy evening rides.

By the time we give up on fixing the odo, there is more rain sweeping in from the west. Head east on I-84 to avoid it. This runs up the Oregon side of the Columbia River gorge where we stop for lunch at the windsurfing mecca of Hood River. Reminds us of Whistler 15 years ago. Hipper crowd, though. After lunch, a bit 'o biking on the Washington side, east from White Salmon on Hwy 14, then inland from Lyle on Hwy 41. Two more probable DHs. Busier Hwy 14 twisting along the Washington side of the scenic Columbia River gorge is pretty sweet while remote Hwy 41 is a lovely road winding beside a couple of tributary rivers up to the cold, windswept plateau town of Goldendale. We then head north into a forest and into a spectacular descent into the Klickitat River canyon. Finally pack it in about 7:30 pm in dark, freezing-cold Glenwood, WA. It is only April 22, what did we expect? The liquor store is closed. Re-discover that Washington taverns only serve beer and wine. Needed a scotch so bad to warm up, we would have settled for bourbon.

A guy at the tavern bar (doing a pretty fair impression of a cowpoke) works at a B&B. When he finds out what we are doing he invites us out to a free breakfast the next morning. Loganberry flapjacks the specialty of the house. ‘Tain't exactly a free motorcycle but as I says to Mike, it is our first freebee. Got to try to milk more freebies like this while doing Washington.

After a nice breakfast, courtesy of the folks at the Flying L Ranch B&B, we do some more isolated plateau work through mostly scrubby and flat terrain. But we do get the fine descent-ascent combo in and out of Rock Creek. Sadly, being the Lord’s day (actually, since it’s Easter I guess the whole weekend is his), Bickleton’s tiny, charming Bluebird tavern is closed. Some attractive rolling farmland along Glade Creek before a wonderful descent off the plateau into the disappearing town of Mabton in the sprawling Yakima valley. We check out a couple of DH hopefuls east of Prosser on the Old Inland Empire Hwy and north of Sunnyside in the Rattlesnake Hills before finishing up the day on some twisty, well-paved roads through the orchards east of Yakima. It’s late, dark and cold when we finish our chores. Check the hotel section of the guide book we’re using to make sure our Yakima hotel of choice has a working hot tub. After sweet-talking the restaurant manager into re-openning his bar for medicinal purposes, we can finally relax.

Monday starts with a scoot up the curvy and scenic Yakima Canyon. No question, it’s one of the best roads in this part of the state. With light traffic and superb pavement, it’s a blast. Glad the speed tax collectors we saw (apparently they love this road) were occupied ticketing a couple of pylons. We split up north of Ellensberg to cover more roads running up the Yakima River valley. The Thorpe Prairie Rd has some nice touches but at times it runs right along I-90. Not exactly good for it’s Remoteness rating. Mike finds Hwy 10 to be a pleasant surprise, especially north of the Thorp turnoff. We meet back up in Easton which actually had an old fashioned diner in a couple of old railway cars. Sadly, it looks like it hasn’t served anyone since about 1963.

A couple more layers of clothing and then it’s over Snoqualmie Pass in the Cascades on I-90. We must be being cautious: a state trooper motors up beside Mike and gives him a slow down hand signal before repeating this procedure with me. We nod. Can’t be that early in the season, since the chair lifts, just off the interstate at the pass summit, aren’t moving. The snow at the side of the road is a tad unnerving, though.

On the east side of the Cascades, we write off Hwy 23 north to Monroe as a potential DH. Not enough curves and WAY, WAY too much traffic. Or as Mike puts it: boring. A little Hwy 2 work west takes us to I-5 and then north to Sedro Wooley. The name has more charm than the town, which bills itself as the "Gateway to the Cascades". Yeah, right.

North on Hwy 9 where after 1,700 km we find some great DHs, complete with excellent pavement, just south of the border around Bellingham. Too late in the day to videotape, however, so we’ll just have to come back and do ‘em again. Mike breaks formation and peels off north to cross the border at Abbotsford on his way back to the North Shore.

One of the roads I cover alone has the funkiest motorcycle service/accessories shop I’ve ever seen. It’s located in the only remaining building of an old ghost town. The ambience is not unlike an old general store. Apparently they are planning on serving food as well. It’s the kind of place you feel like hanging around even if you don’t need anything for your bike. To find it, turn west onto Park Rd from Hwy 9 just past the hamlet of Wickersham north of Sedro Wooley. Tell ‘em we sent you.

My last stop of the trip at the border and my Triumph won't restart. New battery and running it all weekend must mean I have a charging problem (Lucas, the Prince of Darkness?) or more likely my video gear is draining too much power from the Trophy 900. Must get that checked out. So to end my weekend I have to wait 45 minutes for a BCAA jump. Glad I picked up the optional motorcycle coverage...