Diary of a Wolfeman

Or “What I Did On My Summer Vacation”

As is tradition, I took a week off for my birthday again this year, and this time managed to get to places I haven’t been in many years, if ever. I’m still a big fan of the Pacific Coast Highway, so I thought it appropriate to hit that again, but this time go all the way South to the California border and then cut inland to the Old Hometown and see my brother for a minute on the way back. Being a wimp and all, I broke the ride down into sections, because as much as I dig the Vulcan, she ain’t the best long-distance tour bike and I definitely need to stop and stretch every couple of hours.

Day 1: Morning – East Portland to Depoe Bay

I threw the last few things into a backpack, kissed my lovely wife, and rolled out at a nice leisurely 10:30am because I’m lazy and on vacation. The goal was to get out to Depoe Bay Oregon by around lunchtime and stop and do touristy things there.

I started off the day with sunshine, but about 10 minutes before I hit the left turn onto the 101 the Coastal weather pattern took over, and it became horizon-to-horizon grey and dropped down to about 60F. Being a smart dog, I had checked the weather before leaving so I had better gear choices than that first camping trip where I shivered by ass off.

I rolled into Depoe Bay around 1:00pm, a little later than planned but about as long a ride as I had expected. Unlike last time I was there, I had time to get a leisurely lunch and stroll around. I was disappointed that the Leathercraft store is really just machine-sewn bags and wallets, and I only flirted briefly with the idea of getting some fresh salt water taffy. (It’s Day1 of the trip, who is going to want taffy that spent three days in a saddlebag?)

Day1: Afternoon – Depoe Bay to Bandon

Once lunch had settled, I saddled back up and cruised on down the Coast. There were a few points where I could see sunny skies off to my left, but only in those spots where the road veers inland for a stretch. I made it into Bandon right around 6:00pm and checked in to the Inn at Old Town, which is an easy walk across the street from several restaurants and an arcade.

Not that I got to enjoy more than dinner, I had forgotten that everything slams shut like a clam at 8:00pm in these little towns, so you really need to stop early if you want to play around.

Day 2: Morning – Bandon to Crescent City

We were blessed with sunshine Friday morning, and I took a leisurely breakfast burrito in the little coffee shop across from the hotel. (Remember folks, just because one can mess around with the ingredients of a breakfast burrito, it does not necessarily mean one should. There’s nothing wrong with scrambled eggs, bacon/sausage, and a little potato. It does not need zuchini.)

Back on the road by 10:00am, it was a lovely ride down the coast. I’d show some video, but apparently the front camera on the bike got aimed at the sky somehow, and I got nothing good. I did, however, pull over to snap some pics at a really cool overlook:

Things proceeded nicely until about a mile South of the California border. (There’s no direct path from the 101 to Grants Pass on the Oregon side, you have to dip down to Crescent City, CA to turn Eastward. The fact that the Eastbound Hwy199 makes a brief foray into the Northern end of the Redwoods is ample compensation for the detour.) Once past the inevitable customs check (California is very strict about folks bringing random produce into Cali), the skies turned grey again and the clouds settled as low as they could before becoming fog, as if they were trying to tell me there was nothing to see here.

I haven’t been to Crescent City since I was a wee laddie, and, frankly, I hadn’t missed much. The best ocean view from there is far too close to a wastewater treatment facility and all the attendant aromas, and there’s just no flavor to the town at all. You could pick it up wholesale and drop it into any rural area and it would be just as boring – to the point that my best choice for lunch was a Denny’s.

Day 2: Afternoon – Crescent City to Grant Pass

Here’s where I wish the video was better, because like I said, Redwoods! I do love me some big trees. These one aren’t the massive monsters you get down in the national Forest proper, but there are still a number of 7- and 8-foot thick specimens to marvel at.

Once I got out of the trees and back into Oregon, the weather had definitely perked up, and I started to feel the early parts of the predicted heat wave the weather-folks had been mentioning for the weekend. On a whim, I drove up a side road in a tiny little town called O’Brien, OR to see if I could spot anything familiar from when we lived there back in the first grade. I didn’t see anything memorable, but it has been something like 45 years since we moved, after all.

I made it in to Grants Pass without any damage, despite having a couple of scary moments with Southbound bees and wasps as I bore Northeast up the 199. (Full windscreen plus a full-face helmet, visor down, thankyouverymuch. Bugs hurt at 60MPH.)

I managed to get myself into the Riverside Inn by 4:00pm, and was very grateful that the staff had set the in-room A/C down to 65 before I got there, even if I did get a 3rd-floor room. It came with a little patio and a view of the river I spent so much of my childhood summers in.

I took some time to cool off while waiting for my brother to arrive. He had the idea to ride his new Harley into town to meet up with me before guiding me back to his place for a tasty bit of smoked brisket he made for us. Spent a happy evening BS-ing and catching up on recent history. We may live in the same state, but we rarely see each other.

I toddled off back to the hotel, and we made plans for breakfast Saturday.

Day 3: Morning – Grants Pass to Eugene

Started the day with a jaunt Northwest-ward to Merlin for breakfast with my brother and sister-in-law, as well as one of my great-nieces, who was feeling a bit under the weather. Had a surprisingly good Eggs Benedict for it being served at a bar/lounge in a backwoods town.

On the road again by 11:00am, it was the worst part of the ride: nothing but I-5. I don’t really like freeways on a bike; there are too many idiots out there, and the semis won’t even notice if they hit you. I ended up playing leapfrog with one stupid trucker who just had to go about 2MPH faster than I was. My speed-o said I was holding an even 70, but that wasn’t enough for Mr. Trucker, so he spent a full 5 minutes (and about 6 miles) inching past me and finally pulled out in front – about a minute before the incline I knew was coming pulled a few MPH off the top of his capabilities and I ended up passing him in return. We did this twice more before I finally got tired of it and dialed it up to 85 for a bit to clear some space between us.

Made it up to the Denny’s at the Eugene/Springfield exit for a turkey sammich in decent time. Apparently half the crew there are riders themselves, I got a few “whatcha riding?” comments in between sneezes (all my allergies flared up when I got off the freeway) and the waitress beamed while telling me about her Honda Rebel. (That’s a great bike for vertically-challenged folks if you’re tired of stretching for the ground at stoplights.)

Day 3: Afternoon – Eugene to East Portland

Having tired of I-5 and truckers, I used the “avoid freeways” option in the Maps app and set off across back roads through a number of small farming towns I had never heard of before and made my way homeward while fighting valiantly against the urge to sneeze inside my helmet. I guess the first summer heat really boosted the pollen production, and it was a mess.

By the time I hit Molalla, I was very done with the day and just wanted to get home, so I made a beeline up to the 205 and rolled out as much throttle as traffic would let me. this turned out to be quite a lot, and I swiftly found myself back in my own driveway doing the parking shuffle to get the Vulcan back into the garage with the car – and get me out of my leathers and helmet – in fairly short order. Kissed my lovely wife and packed everything away while she checked the mail.

This turned out to be a bad thing to do, for what should greet me? A gorram jury duty summons.

Welcome back to the real world there, Wolfe!

This entry was posted on Sunday, June 8th, 2025 at 5:59 pm and is filed under Life, Miscelleny. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.