En Route to California

Day 1 First long trip on the new bike - Honda RT1300 - with suitcase-like hard 'saddlebags' and fancy new Givi back box and lean for passenger. Goes like a rocket. First time I rode on the back was like being in a hurricane, head pummeled from side to side like a Formula 1 driver battling G-force, so Peter bought a fancy new windscreen. It's better now but still nothing like the 'bubble' he sits in. 

The less said about the Interstate 5 the better. Took hours to get past Seattle on 8-lane Highways as far as the eye can see. We emerged eventually and reached Portland in time to check in, swim, eat, drink beer and exercise stiff knees. 

Peter has devised the itinerary as usual with all the twists and turns that make the riding and the route full of surprises.

A word about our new communication system, the Scala Rider G3: it's fabulous. Our biking friends Christie and Stu will be grateful to hear that after putting up with listening to calls of "Can you hear me?" "Can you hear me?"repeatedly for years as Peter tried other systems. (Stu always maintained that I secretly never turned my button on so I could remain peacefully in my cocoon!)

Day 2. We avoided the infamous Interstate 5 for most of the day and chose a route through the Willamette Valley, following the river through acreages, horse breeding ranches, and then berry fields and vineyards. The scent of fields of mint jolted me from my stupor. (One day when Peter slows down I joke we'll trade the 1300 in for a GoldWing and I'll be safely strapped in to doze lazily at the back without my head lolling forward each time nod off.)

Sleepy towns like Newberg and Dayton were untouched by billboards tried to lure us for a visit. Next time. We bought strawberries -the last and sweetest of the crop she said - and we ate them on a lawn surrounded by hydrangeas. Eugene enticed us to lunch, at a sidewalk table Mediterranean style, where we watched the world go by - a mix of affluent 60-something's and pan-handlers. 

Our home for the next 2 nights was Jackson WellSprings - a campsite-cum-hippy hang out where the whimsical pool and spa is adorned with statues of Shiva and Ganesh, logging is optional and the scent of bud wafts through the meadows all day. Dinner is a heaped plate of wholesome vegetarian food - Stu you would have loved it! - and the tap water comes direct from the mineral springs and tastes of sulphur. 

Armed with berries, lavender goats cheese and fresh baked loaf from Ashland Saturday market we walked through the city's river-side park which stretches for miles into the hills. Lithium water flows from the hills into the town's fountains - a mineral petillant flavor that's an acquired taste - as cold as glacier water. 

OSF, the Oregonian Shakespeare Festival: Henry IV Part II was nearly rained off but Falstaff and Hal and his band of miscreants took it in their stride and entertained us 'in the round' for 3 hours. Two American sign language experts interpreted the whole play simultaneously oma small Section of the audience. Quite a feat.