Ok, so here we go. Remember, when I'm behind the camera expectations are low.
Chili, Greench440, ejh, me, and Mr Sunshine were well met in Walla Walla, but by the time we got to Lewiston we'd been riding straight roads for so long we attacked the Spiral Highway like Picts storming a castle stocked with barrels of scotch whiskey.
Obligatory Spiral Highway shot.
Funny how after just a few hours together our true personalities began to emerge. Erik pulled out a camera with a lens the size of a grain silo...
Lewis and Clark must have been damn surprised when they were coming across the US and came across these two cities with names so similar to their own.
Chris, usually shy and reserved, started coming out of his shell.
Ladies and Gentlemen, after you've ridden the Spiral Highway, this is the man you need to raise that post-ride pint to. No, no, God no, not me. C.C. Van Arsdol.
Which rider here has fallen victim to the classic "poison ivy in the helmet" gag?
Here's Sunshine, XLR8, moxie, Smoothie, Greench, and ejh. Don't wear reflective gear indoors, kids.
Breakfast shot! Eggs, fresh scones still warm from the oven
, condiments, and a cup of warm used motor oil.
That new 'stich of Ron's is still a little tight in spots.
Who's got the bigger lens...Ron or Erik? If they didn't take such damn good photos it would be easier to make fun of their huge cameras. I'll let Ron write the caption for this one.
I'm concerned about Chili. He's been hitting the booze pretty hard and now he's traveling in some sort of bondage apparatus and carrying a big stick.
One obligatory "Tuono on the road" shot. I'm enjoying the hell out of that silly bike.
It's surprisingly competent as a tourer.
The zombie bikes invade Chester. They're staying at the Rose Quartz Inn.
We had a great rip down Highway 70. Other people took actual photos of it, but I waited until we found the world's smallest covered bridge.
Was it wise of Kent to put his tank bag on the windowsill?
The covered bridge was a regular motorcycle conduit. While we hung, this airhead stunta guy showed up--only the X-man got the shot, though.
And this classic Duc.
I hope that Jim's girlfriend doesn't see him looking at his bike like this.
Every time I started talking Erik did this. No surprise to you all, of course.
Erik at the Sundial Bridge in Redding. The stunned look? Well, you should have seen the women from the front
I end with this, perhaps the most amazing thing that I saw in five days: The sport-touring 996S. Here are aTypical1 and VifferVern fascinated by the details and mildly agog at the concept. Late Saturday night this guy roars up with the thunder of Termignonis and the rattle of a dry clutch, sopping in his perforated leathers, with his gear neatly stowed in the bag on that Ventura rack.
So the next day, I've gotta go say hi. Turns out he's about 60 (!). Every year he visits his cousin in San Francisco, where he stores the bike, goes for a track day with his cuz and then hits the road for a little tour.
Tour on a 996? There went a man, my friends, a man as hard as a granite anvil.