We awoke in the 5’s, too fired up to sleep longer. Packing, planning, getting into a routine we had yet to establish. One walked to breakfast, two rode. Coffee, laughter, anticipation, confidence. Intending to leave at 730a, we busted out around 8 knowing it was a solid 8 hours in the saddle. It was more like 10+, 11 &1/2 hours, all in. Even with all of the 85 mph sweepers, a speed we will not replicate in Oh, Canada, it was 11.5 solid hours. Leaving Bend and seeing the snowcapped 7 sisters all along the road was a great start to the day.

We hit 125mph (one time only) on a lonely stretch of straight, deserted road near Shaniko, Oregon. It didn’t feel any different on the bike — I LOVE that bike. And in Shaniko, I was repaid perfectly for preparing just the right toolkit for the ride. They were needed, but for something minor on not-my-bike. Great outcome, on Doug’s bike and for the effort. Our Ambassador of bike-itude, Bob is now sure he will assemble a similar kit. I am still prideful.

A BEAUTIFUL ride through the Dalles, HUGE winds near the border, Bob and I were turning left but going straight for a solid 10 miles. Doug on the Triumph was low and cool. Huge wind farms showed that this is a pretty common occurrence on the Washington border.

Throughout the Yakima, Ellensburg, Okanagan, Oroville, Oliver, Penticton, Kelowna day, through check engine lights (eventually of no matter,) blistering hot afternoon pulls and lake-cooled descents, I had Guy Clark’s epic “To Live Is To Fly” on the mental loop:

To Live is to Fly

Days up and down they come

Like rain on a conga drum

Forget most, remember some

Don’t turn none away

Everything is not enough

Nothin’ is too much to bear

Where you been is good and gone

All you keep is the gettin’ there

Oh, to live is to fly

Both low and high

Shake the dust off of your wings

And the sleep out of your eyes

Here’s 50 seconds of the entry into the Okanagan Valley in Canada, where it turned this incredible green:

 And the bridge into Kelowna: