From Port Orford,Oregon. I did it! Coast to Coast on a TW200! Check! Been there. Done that!

It's been an exciting couple of days. Sorry about the lack of Internet last night. I was in Silver Lake, Orgeon, and there is no lake there. In fact, there are only about 10 buildings. And it is in the high desert, so there is nothing to see either. But this morning when I left, about ten miles down the road, I came to the Oregon forest, the end of the high desert.

Yesterday was the ride from Nampa, Idaho to Silver Lake, Oregon. I was duly welcomed to Oregon:

As you can see it was a clear blue sky; a good day for riding. It was a beautiful agricultural area with lots of green fields:

They ship their farm crops in these produce crates, lots of them everywhere:

And they are proud of their agricultural heritage:

But soon I came to the high desert:

Beautiful area, but deserted desert. There was nobody there. And no gas stations. I was worried the first time when I went 68 miles between stations. Then learned that it was 104 miles to the next station. I never got the bike over 50 mph so that I could conserve as much fuel as possible, because I didn't know at the time how many miles to the next gas. But I made it with gas to spare. I averaged 80 miles per gallon by going very easy on the throttle. I didn't think about much else beside gas, and it was hard to enjoy the scenery for worrying about gas. But that's just the way I am.

So I had a pleasant enough night in the Silver Lake Motel, one of their six rooms. Very basic. Very. I've stayed in several of those kinds of places. But hey! This was the only motel in 150 miles either way. You take what you get and be happy for it.

This morning I left at 7:15 shortly after sun up as usual for me. My phone said the temperature was 40 degrees, which was not too bad. I was questioning that temperature when I saw the frost on my motorcycle seat:

But not long after I started, I began to really feel cold. First, I noticed that I had left my outer jacket unzipped. With the helmet closed, I couldn't see my belly! When I stopped to check, my jacket had been flying to the wind! I thought zipping that would solve my problem, but no, it kept getting colder. It was so cold, I was worried about my fingers getting frost bite. They were hurting. The rest of me was warmer than that, but not very.

I worried some more when I got this message on my cell phone:

In case you can't read the small print, it says, "Unable to Charge. Charging paused. Battery temperature too low."

How low does it have to get to say that? I think the answer is FREEZING.

I stopped to get gas after 60 miles, and the lady at the gas station said there was a thermometer on the door post outside. I checked and it was 34 degrees there. Do you know what the wind chill factor is for a person in 34 degrees riding at 50 mph on a bike without a windscreen? Me neither, but let me tell you - it's cold!

Finally, I found a cafe that was open and stopped there for a hour and had breakfast. It was even cold in the cafe. But when I left, it seemed the temperature had risen to about 40, and the ride got warmer and warmer throughout the day.

But I did see these mountains all around me:

See that? Snow! And not far away.

I passed through several areas where it was obvious there had been forest fires. Many of the little stores had signs out that said, "Thank you firefighters!"

Then I started descending from 5,000 feet all the way down to the ocean. That was nice. Warmer and warmer as I went down.

When I was almost to Port Orford, I passed through a little town named Langlois, which is the same name as Sarah's work friend. So I stopped and took a couple of pictures for Sue and Pete because they have been so kind about following all my adventures:

I was so excited coming into Port Orford, as you can imagine. I had ridden that little bike all the way across the country to be there - from coast to coast! How exciting! And I really wanted to take my picture at the same place where all the riders of the Trans America Trail do. So I was following my gps very closely through town and was almost there.

I was literally one block from the end when I saw this behind me:

That's right. A cop. He stopped me for doing 40 mph in a 20 zone near a school. I did not notice the school zone or the cop because I was so excited and looking at my gps. Can you believe that? A speeding ticket in the last block of a Trans America Ride?

The cop named Mike was so nice. And I was still excited and told him how I had come all the way from Norfolk, Virginia to be in this town. And told him all about the Trans America Trail, and how great it was that I was finally here, in Port Orford.  He was so nice and enjoyed hearing my story, but gave me the ticket anyway.

He kindly explained that I could do traffic school online from home and it wouldn't cost me anything, which, of course, I intend to do! But what a way to end my journey!

Here's another photo at journey's end:

So that's it! I did it.

Why? That's a good question. Why did I decide I HAD to ride a 200 cc bike from coast to coast? I have no idea. I get these wild hairs and just have to do a new adventure. I do it because it is there.

I am spending the night at a lovely hotel right on the beach overlooking that view in the picture above. But it's kind of like seeing the Grand Canyon. You finally arrive. You look. You ohh. You ahh. And ten minutes later you say, "Okay. We did that. Let's go." Or that's what I do.

Now the only thing left is to commute back home - 2,600 miles.