Friday, 7 Sep: (No photos)  There’s nothing like a good drive on empty country roads.  And driving from Bend to Portland is nothing like that.  Mostly two lane roads with heavy traffic in both directions.  55 MPH, even on the four lane sections.  Frequent towns.  Limited views other than the rear end of the car in front of me.  Just the worst.

Note: Oregon is now the only state with mandatory gas pump attendants, New Jersey having come to their senses.  I ran my card, then reached for the handle and the guy came running over yelling (not politely) “You can’t do that! You’re in Oregon!”  He grabs the handle and pushes the Premium button.  “You can’t do that!” I respond.  My bike takes regular.  So he switches it over to regular.  Then hands me the handle and walks away!  (Premium at this station cost $1.10 more than regular.  I sense a con game.)

Washington is a breath of fresh air.  70MPH, 4-6 lanes.  A little drizzle, which indeed freshens the air.  But what should have been a short day with nice scenic stops turned into a photo-free day.  (Mt. Hood is really pretty ugly this time of year.)

Wednesday and Thursday, 5/6 Sep: Two fairly boring days.  I’m now in Bend, Oregon. Yesterday I drove through the smoke from a major fire in the Sierra Nevadas that closed part of US395. Today I drove through the smoke of an even bigger fire that closed part of Interstate 5.   Several truckers abandoned their rigs to escape the fire.  National news.  BTW, I was in parts of Nevada and Oregon when I experienced the smoke.  Fires are not just individual state problems.

Spent last night in Susanville, CA. I had no idea that it is otherwise known as “Prison Town, USA” (on PBS). Inmates at three prisons make up over a third of the population (yes, they are included in the census). Half of the non-institutionalized adult population work at the prisons. The things I learn on my trips. The sub shop has an “Inmate Special”. Get a sub, walk out without paying, become an inmate.

Smoke from the fire.

This was posted in a very small town between two long straight stretches of road (track?). I can imagine the problem.

Absolutely.

Ranch art.

Mt. Shasta in the distance.

Tuesday, Sep 4: Drove through Death Valley.  Okay, that’s out of the way.  It’s unusual and very desolate.  I first backtracked south to get on the Badwater road.  Navi did not want me on that road.  For 20 miles she kept telling me to make a u-turn.  But it was a nice drive.  For 37 miles I saw no one, passing no cars.  Apparently, other Navis had the same idea.  Upon reaching Badwater (elevation -282) I encountered many people driving south to get there.  It’s a weird place.  Lots of warnings about the heat.  Lots of the visitors are foreigners.

Continued my drive as the temp rose.  Helped a couple who had dropped their bike.  I was able to get out of the Valley by 11, so the hottest I saw was only 100.  Overall, it was sweepingly large, but nothing I’d not seen elsewhere.  It’s not going on my list of places people REALLY should visit in the USA.  That list holds at five.

The rest of the drive was routine.  At Mono lake I saw a flashing sign warning of the road being closed at Bridgeport (my destination) due to fire.  I had this image of my hotel going up in flames. But no.  There’s a fire north of town.  I’m not taking that road tomorrow, so I don’t care.

My hotel tonight is also haunted.  My room number is the same.  Spooky.  No opera house, but it does have a restaurant and bar.  Hooray!

Badwater

It’s translated into several languages. I was there at 9:30, but I still didn’t walked out there.

Way up the cliff is this sign, which reads . . .

This is supposed to be a beautiful colored rock formation. Not today.

This is a one way road. Didn’t learn of this until the end. I was terrified at every turn.

This looks very strange. I didn’t appear so odd when I took it.

I love these comical historical signs.

My room is top left.

Monday, 3 Sep: I’m driving up to Washington to visit a cousin.  Taking my time on roads not taken (mostly).  Today I got to Death Valley Junction, just outside Death Valley National Park, by using less than 40 miles of Interstate highways.  Drove through Hemet, Ca.  Steve’s Burgers, followed buildings away by Tommy’s Burgers, followed blocks away by Farmer Boys Burgers.  Hemet loves burgers.  Hemet also likes horses a lot.  I figured that out with my olfactory senses.

Passed by what looked like a movie lot.  Golden Era Productions.  Turns out it’s operated by the Church of Scientology.  The things I discover.

Glimpsed the mystical appearance of a hot air balloon as it slowly appeared through the early morning haze.  Very fantasy-like.  Saw a falcon standing on a tall rock in the middle of a field.  Gorgeous.  Drove down an old section of Route 66.  Old (closed) buildings.  Went over Interstate 15, where southbound traffic from ‘Vegas was going about as fast as Disney’s Autopia.  Drove through the Mojave Desert National Monument.

Finally arrived at my first night’s destination.  The Amargosa Opera House and Hotel has it’s own Wikipedia page, so you can look for it there.  The town of Death Valley Junction has a population of 3 (a 4th passed away a few years ago).  The hotel is open.  The Cafe is closed for the “season”.  Everything else is vacant.  There be ghosts here, they say.  I suspect the ghosts would like to relocate.  But it’s an oddball location with a lot of nice history.  I’ll have good memories of the place.

An old school on Route 66. Class reunions must be so cool (and held elsewhere).

Most of the time I despise electrical polls for getting in the way of good photos. But this time they work well I think.

Thermometer pole in Baker, CA, on Interstate 15. Town was crowded with folks, I’d suppose tired of 10 MPH traffic. I cheerfully crossed the 15. Well, as cheerfully as I could on a MC in 94 degree temps.

Alien Fresh Jerky store. This is the small building behind the big one. Seriously, an alien themed store that sold lots of jerky. For those interstellar flights I guess.

Obligatory shot of a long, straight road.

Proof that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

The Opera House had about a dozen painted curtains. Very pretty.