Friday, May 21, 2010

Guess what? We are expecting a sunny day on Monday. But the rest of the week is looking pretty ordinary, weather wise.

It was into the wet weather gear again this morning as we prepared to head north from Crescent City into Oregon. We packed away the helmet video camera and still camera, not expecting them to get any use today. We took off on 101 and 21 miles later crossed the state border. The road was fast, even in the rain, and we soon passed Brookings which a travel guide tells us "basks in weather patterns that foster some of the warmest temperatures on the coast". It was 9 degrees Centigrade (48 F) at the time.

What we could see of the coast through the rain was beautiful and wild. In spite of the weather we averaged 44.7 mph over 185 miles - the fastest so far this trip. No matter how beautiful the scenery, we weren't in any mood to stop or detour to take in any sights - we just wanted to get to our next destination, which nominally was Reedsport.

After a couple of hours we reached Port Orford, our legs aching with the cold, and stopped at the Paradise Cafe for coffee, which tasted wonderful. Wanda decided to have some French toast, too. Now, in Australia, we can't call our sparkling white wine "champagne", because only wine from the Champagne region of France can legally carry that appellation. I can't imagine what the French will do when they find out about "French toast", but if they have any culinary pride that will act swiftly and decisively and insist it be renamed. French toast is basically toasted soggy sweet bread, dusted with icing sugar and cinnamon, and served with a lump of butter and the choice of maple or raspberry syrup.

It was obvious we would get to Reedsport quite early, so we set our sights on Florence, another 21 miles further on. Wanda suggested it might be Venice by the time we got there. However, as we travelled on, patches of blue sky appeared and the rain became more sporadic. North of the industrial sprawl of Coos Bay we stopped in clear sunshine at an overlook and got out the cameras to document this aberration in the weather forecast. We even managed a smile for the camera...
Azaleas and rhododendrons have followed us all along the coast. They soften the roadway as well as the houses.


We got into Florence in time for a late lunch. Being dressed in wet weather gear and carrying helmets, it was obvious we were bikers. We were asked by a local if we had come to town for the "Rhody Festival". A few questions later we discovered that this festival was being held this weekend, and that amongst other activities, tomorrow the main street of the old town would become a sea of motorcycles, with more than 5000 expected. (Just like Biketoberfest, only earlier, and in Oregon, not Florida). All the way up from Crescent City we had hardly seen a single motorcycle, but we almost immediately saw (and heard) a steady build-up of Harleys. It was suggested that if we wanted to get a room for the night, we should do it sooner rather than later, so we took off up the road and stopped at the nearest cheap-looking motel. We got the last room there at an exorbitant price, with the promise of the owner that everywhere else would be more expensive - if they had a room left.

We rode back down into the old town and each had a large bowl of clam chowder for lunch. We wandered about the old town for a while and sampled some of the many tent stalls set up around the sideshow alley to sell everything from jewellery,  T shirts and fast food to, the oddest of all, a man selling violins he made for $100 each. When we showed curiosity about them, he was absolutely determined to sell us one. Now I don't know Jack about violins, but they looked really chunky. I got the strange impression that the people who bought them probably never played them and only used them as decoration in their homes.

By late afternoon there were lots of bike rumbling around town, and it was obvious the bars would do good business tonight... We were happy just to stay in our cosy motel room.

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