Ride to Scappoose and back, August 2, 2004

Ride to Scappoose and back, August 2, 2004

Posted August 4, 2004

See all the pictures I took on this ride in the image gallery.

In my ongoing search for boots that fit, I decided to visit Wesco, a company which makes sturdy boots, and can custom make them to your size. They're located in Scappoose, OR, which is about 30 miles northwest of Portland. I decided I'd take a day off work (since Wesco is only open on weekdays), and ride down and back in one day. On I-5, that would be a trip of about 3 hours each way, not including stops. Naturally, I didn't want to just drone down the freeway, particularly on the Ninja 250.

Preparations

The first thing to do was plan the route. Since I was taking the Ninja 250 (the Le Mans was down with handlebar troubles), I wanted to avoid 70 MPH freeways as much as possible. Certainly the Ninja is capable of doing it, but that's not its forte.

My route is shown in pink highlighter
I decided to head down I-5 a little bit in Seattle, since it and 405 are the only real north-south roads if you're trying to make tangible progress. I would take I-5 to 405 for a quick jaunt to 167. 167 would take me south to 512 in Puyallup, and shortly after that I'd turn south again on 161. This road would convey me to spitting distance from Mount Rainier, and Highway 7, which I would take down to Highway 12. 12 would lead to about 30 miles on I-5, which would bring me to Kelso/Longview, and the bridge over the Columbia River, and into Oregon. Once in Oregon, I would meander down 30 into Scappoose, and then to the Wesco factory. The GPS claimed the simplified route would be about 170 miles, so I figured it'd actually be around 200 once all the little twists and turns were accounted for.

The bike didn't need much preparation. The oil had just been changed, the tires were in fine shape, the chain was practically new, etc. I checked that there was still enough oil and coolant, and that everything looked cool. No problems were noted the night before, so I was happy.

My plan was to leave around 9 am, and expect to arrive around 2 pm at Wesco. I would take however much time it took at Wesco, then head down to Hillsboro to do a quick errand, then I could head back to Seattle. I didn't know exactly when I would be back, but I figured some time around 6-8 pm.

Getting on the Road

The day dawned overcast and cool
By nine o'clock, I was ready to go, and traffic didn't look awful, so I hopped on the bike and headed out. The weather was cool and overcast -- cool enough that I decided to wear not only the Aerostich, but also a fleece vest to ward off the chill. It would be warm later in the day, but I figured I'd rather suffer from a bit of annoying warmth than debilitating cold.

The first part of the trip went quickly, since I knew all the roads, and wasn't much interested in sight-seeing. I-5 and 167 are both long-straight-boring roads, too, so there was no point in lingering over them. No significant traffic hindered my progress, and I was quickly onto 161. After 20 minutes suffering through strip-mall hell, I was onto the roads I was more hoping for: rural two-lane.

Exactly the Right Road

Somewhere behind those clouds is a 14,410 foot mountain
Riding down 161 after Graham, I was pretty happy. The road was moderately interesting, with a few twists and turns. Traffic wasn't too bad. The weather was cool, but bearable. I was definitely glad I had the fleece vest on.

Cows. Cows are nice, sure.
After about 30 minutes of this, I passed a sign that said, "Scenic outlook, 1/4 mile" or somesuch, and I decided to check it out. I pulled off when I came to the spot, and pulled into this little gravel parking lot with a view over a field and some cows. Brown cows, no less. After reading the signs, I decided that it was a scenic view of Mount Rainier, which was obscured behind miles of clouds at that moment. I snapped a few pictures, enjoyed a few minutes of walking around with my helmet off, and moved on.

Highway 161 terminates at Highway 7. 7 and 161 are actually parallel for the length of 161, but 161 is a bit further east, and more in line with where I was going. At the end of 161, I turned south onto 7, into something called a University of Washington Pack Experimental Forest. Fortunately, this was mostly a sign on the side of the road, as far as my trip was concerned.

Highway 7 quickly turned into the most fabulous set of twists and turns I've ever ridden. The pavement was perfect. The traffic was very light. The curves were well-engineered. There was no gravel or road debris. It was amazing.

I think that 1-mile stretch of Highway 7 was the absolute riding highlight of the trip.

And, the Rest of the Trip

The sun broke through briefly
After the fabulousness of the Highway 7 Twisties, the rest of the trip kind of faded into the background. There was some good scenery on the way, but there was a lot of low cloud cover, so it was also somewhat hard to see beyond the closest hills.

I noticed the small town of Morton as I passed through, but didn't feel like I had time to stop. There wasn't anything I really wanted to see, but the town struck me as being very much the "small town" that people sometimes idealize. I loved the way the walls of the valley loomed over the town to the south, with the clouds brushing through the trees. Reminded me a bit of Twin Peaks.

Taco Bell: lunch of champions?
Morton, unfortunately, led to Highway 12, one of the epitomal "long-straight-boring" roads. 12 led to I-5. More straight and boring. By the time I hit Kelso, where I was planning on turning anyway, it was definitely time for lunch. It was just past 12 pm, and my butt hurt. Taco Bell was "calling."

Where's Oregon Again?

After my brief lunch, I wended my way through Kelso and Longview, trying to find the bridge to Oregon. I followed the signs, and the directions I'd put into the GPS. Then, the signs stopped, and I was too busy watching out for bad drivers to look at the GPS. Then, suddenly, the GPS was telling me I was going completely the wrong direction, and I had no sense of where the bridge was. I pulled over into a parking lot and looked over the GPS map, trying to figure out what the right thing to do was. I finally decided on a direction and followed it.

It turns out that through a combination of serendipity and last-second decisions, I managed to find the bridge, but not before wasting 15 minutes driving around Longview. I stop-and-crawled across the bridge, and finally landed on Oregon's sales-tax-free soil.

Highway 30 isn't a fast road, but it winds peacefully along the Columbia. The Trojan nuclear power plant rests on the banks of the Columbia as well, its cooling tower dormant after being shut down so many years ago.

Finally, I found my way to Scappoose, where the Wesco factory is located, on Shoe Factory Lane.

Wesco, or, "Boot Heaven"

Wesco factory -- not as empty as it looks
I arrived at Wesco, a small factory located on a scenic slope in Scappoose. I won't bore you with the details of my visit, but they were very pleasant at the factory, and I was overall impressed with what I saw. I can safely say that the $30 fitting fee was completely worthwhile -- they guarantee the shoes or boots will fit if you come in for a fitting. After my months of searching for boots that fit, that's a promise I'm willing to pay thirty bucks for.

Shoe Factory Lane!
I think I spent an hour or so there, and it was 3:10 by the time I left. I headed myself over to Hillsboro to do my quick errand, and came back across Cornelius Pass Road. Cornelius Pass Road would be a great one to ride, if you could get rid of all the traffic. Both ways, I was stuck behind an astoundingly slow group of 5-7 cars, led by a double-trailer gravel truck in one direction, and a 5th wheel RV the other direction.

Amazingly, when I finally pulled into a gas station, still having not switched to reserve, the trip odometer read 233 miles. The fuel pump revealed just over 4 gallons filled, so I was right on the cusp of flipping to reserve. In any case, the mileage was just over 61 MPG. Not bad.

Back to Washington

The Longview-Rainier bridge
My Oregonian business completed, I got back on 30 and headed north for the bridge. It was about 4:45 by this point, and I was anticipating that I could get home by around 9 or 9:30 with a short dinner break. For all that, I wasn't really in a hurry. I knew that I'd regret being later than about 11 pm, but there were some pictures I wanted to take, and I wasn't really under any time pressure any more. Wesco closes at 4 pm, so I had been moderately worried about getting there on time.

Trojan looms in the background
Unfortunately, I hadn't gone more than 5 miles when the traffic came to a grinding stop. Eventually, it became clear that I was a victim of summertime road construction, and rush hour traffic. In Scappoose, population 5640. Sigh

The Trojan tower, 12 years dormant
Finally, I passed through the traffic and was in the clear. 30 passed by moderately quickly, but I seemed to be stuck behind a speed limit-drivin' pickup truck most of the way. I started seeing Trojan poke through the trees, and stopped to take a few pictures. Then I stopped to take one or two more, but decided the view wasn't quite good enough. I planned to stop at the main entrance to Trojan, but there were not one but two pretty, twinkly police cars who had stopped someone driving a 70's era musclecar. I was already moderately paranoid because I was (however innocently) taking pictures of a nuclear power plant. Taking them in front of a pair of police cruisers seemed like asking for trouble.

Home Again: I-5, or Back Through the Backcountry?

As I turned north on I-5 (getting out of Longview was much easier going north than on the way in), I was faced with the choice: do I just ride north on I-5 and get home fairly quickly, or do I retrace my southerly route in reverse?

The day had gone from heavy overcast to scattered clouds and sun, so I had a feeling the sights would be much better on the backcountry route. It was still early and light enough, so I provisionally decided to take the back route. I had until the Highway 12 exit to decide, so I got on I-5 and droned.

30 miles on I-5 pretty much made the decision for me. I got off at the 12 exit and pulled into the first restaurant I saw. My ass was aflame (so to speak), and there was no way I wanted to withstand another 2 hours of the Ninja dancing and skittering at 70-75 MPH on the freeway. With me on it, the Ninja is running at about 85% at that speed, so there's not much left if you need to pass someone, or get out of someone's way. On top of all that, I had driven the stretch of I-5 from Seattle to Portland and back so many times that I could nearly recite each of the exit names from memory; each curve and hill was well-known. I had no need to see it again!

That said, (nod to the Ninja 250 board folks) the Ninja 250 was well capable of the trip, and I could have gotten home a lot faster on I-5 if I had to. I just wasn't mentally prepared for it.

Dinner: the Refreshingest!

Spiffy's restaurant, heavily backlit
My dinner at Spiffy's was simple but effective. I was immensely pleased with the large, cushy seat they sat me in. Beyond that, the food was fine. I was pleased to be sitting like a normal human, on a seat that was large and soft. I took my time getting my face shield cleaned off, stretching out, etc. It was nice.

After dinner, I set off down Highway 12, toward Morton. I was amazed at how much better I felt after just half an hour of sitting in a not-crouched position. Surprisingly, even at this late hour (around 7 pm, about 10 hours into the trip) there was no part of me that was especially sore. I found this notable, because this was the first serious comfort test to which I'd ever put my homemade custom seat.

12, again, is a boring road, with lots of straight, a good dose of boring, and a healthy side order of unexciting. Fortunately, at this relatively late hour, with the shadows stretching in front of me, it was also fairly traffic-free. I made it to Morton with no trouble, and turned back onto 7.

Even fill-flash isn't enough sometimes
I was planning out, in my head, how much trouble I was going to have getting back to that Mount Rainier scenic stop on 161 before the sun went down. It was a good solid 45 minutes along the road, at least, and I was watching the sun dip lower toward the horizon. The very best time to be there would be just as the sun was touching the horizon, as seen from the slopes of the mountain. I didn't know if I could make it in time. Fortunately, I had an excellent plan either way: if I was in time, I'd go up 161 to the stop and take some pictures. If I wasn't, I'd continue up 7, and skip 161 entirely -- 7 looked interesting beyond the 161 turnoff.

Who transplanted New Zealand to Washington?
So I blazed along Highway 7. As it started getting darker, I flipped on the fog light I had recently installed. When no one was coming, I turned on the driving light, to see how much difference it made. Pretty good, actually. It needed to be aimed (it was too far off to the right, and a bit too high), so I pulled off to the side of the road, and employed the armstrong adjustment method.

Aim sufficiently adjusted, I continued on my way, blinding the occasional oncoming driver as I groped for the light switch. That switch isn't in the best spot, but it's not bad. Just have to practice getting to it quicker.

The curves on 7 were even sweeter this time around. The light was just failing and fading into dark twilight, but it was still bright enough to see through the curves. There was no traffic that I could see, going my direction; only the occasional oncoming car marred the roadscape as I progressed. Absolutely gorgeous. It's only a pity that section of road is 1 mile long instead of 5 or 20.

Twisties vanquished, I turned up 161, glancing occasionally at the sky, to see if I would be in time. The scenic stop was only a few miles up the road, but it was getting mighty dim. I didn't know if I would make it or not, but I was close enough that I had to try.

Perfect Timing

Now that's a scenic mountain
As you can see by the pictures surrounding this text, I did make it in time. I got some great pictures of the mountain, but as I was getting suited up to take off, after having consulted my map on how to deal with Highway 7 the rest of the way back, I pulled out the camera for one more shot... Totally worth it. That's the best picture out of all the images I took that day. Even the picture I've got wasn't anywhere near as impressive and majestic as the mountain itself, shrouded in pink and purple clouds. It looked like the super-real backdrop on a movie set, not something you'd find in reality. It's nice to see that nature still has a few tricks up her sleeve.

Mount Rainier, at the height of sunset
With my final picture of Rainier taken, I was on my way home for real. 7 was an attractive enough diversion that I retraced my route back down 161, and headed north on the section of 7 I hadn't seen before. It was worth it. But as it got darker, I had to concentrate more on driving and watching out for deer and other nocturnal hazards, and less on the surrounding scenery and the joy of riding.

Mid way to Spanaway, I stopped long enough pull on the fleece vest and send a quick SMS message to my roommate, who was worried to see me out on such a long trip with such a small bike. I said I should be home before 10:30, and even that seemed like a stretch. I didn't think there was any way I'd be later than 10.

I Dread It: "Civilization"

It was around this point that "civilization" started encroaching on my path. The population density increased exponentially, until I was riding through a 35 MPH zone, with strip malls on both sides, glaring neon, and schizophrenic drivers in minivans cutting each other off with angry little jerking motions.

I figured that this is where the story would accelerate, and I'd relate how I did the rest of the trip quickly and efficiently. Oh, how wrong I was, but that was the mindset as I got on 512, bound for 167, 405, I-5, and home.

Why is There Traffic at 10:30?

As I passed out of Puyallup on 167, I saw a cluster of brake lights ahead, just yards past an offramp. I slowed down and came to a stop, to see brake lights stretching, in their infinite variations, as far as I could see. As we progressed at intermittent bursts of 4 MPH speediness, I soon came to see that this wasn't just some accident site, but road construction. It took 10 minutes to get to the sign that said, "left lane closed, one mile ahead." 30 excruciating minutes later, I finally arrived at the much-vaunted left lane closure.

While on the way there, there came a moment when I was sore and tired and didn't want to do any more. I eyed the 70 foot wide, 20 foot deep median, full of grass. It looked pretty attractive. I bet I could get the Ninja through that, and into the sparse southbound traffic. Then I could get on 5, and get home much faster than waiting through this traffic -- dear god, how could we be going even slower!?

Rather than commit any of the dozens of felonies crossing that median probably represented, I got off my bike. We were alternately stopped and moving at 2-3 miles per hour. I was sick to death of feathering the clutch, and shifting in and out of 1st gear. So I got off and walked. It was actually pretty comfortable, after so many hours of sitting crouched over my tankbag. I'm sure the cars around me had a little laugh at the big guy on the little bike, walking along beside it. Hopefully it elevated their moods a bit in the midst of this unexpected and unwelcome traffic jam. It certainly helped me out.

Now I Can Skip the Boring Parts

Finally, I was meeting or exceeding the speed limit (don't blame me, I'd be run down like a bicycle if I wasn't going at least 10 over the limit most of the time). The rest of the ride consisted largely of me dodging out of the way of overeager cable installer trucks, and avoiding the geriatrics who were still young enough to drive, dammit, but couldn't seem to understand why everyone was going so fast.

Can you tell I rode through twilight in the country?
The traffic jam consumed precious time, and I didn't actually make it home until 10:50 pm. Fortunately, this was close enough to my projected time to keep my roommate from worrying. I made a final stop at the gas station, since the Ninja had sputtered hard on the freeway as I approached my exit. I had switched to reserve, surprised to note that the bike only read 212 miles on the trip odometer. I had been expecting more.

Sure enough, the second tank only returned 53 MPG, barely over what I normally get riding in-city. I guess two heavy traffic jams and lots of 70+ MPH traffic-dodging can do that to a bike's mileage. It was still enough that I was able to complete a 442 mile trip in just two tanks of gas. The Ninja is great for that sort of thing.

Conclusion

It seems a bit odd to have a Conclusion section in a ride report. It's not a book report. But there are a few things I wanted to say that pretty much belong in a section like this.

Anyway. The main thing is that this ride was fabulous fun. Occasional sore butt and aching joints aside, I had an incredible time. I get so wrapped up in telling the story of the ride, that I sometimes think I forget to say how much fun I was having.

Would I do this trip again exactly like this? I don't know, but probably not exactly. I think I would have been happier on the Le Mans, which is more appropriately sized for the trip (both in physical dimensions and engine power). I would have taken it, for sure, if it had been available. For all that, I was pleased with how the Ninja comported itself, and I'm now more willing to consider it on similar footing to the Le Mans when it comes to long trips. I wouldn't have gone any faster, but I would have been more comfortable, and had more bike in reserve if I had needed it.

Certainly the Ninja's long distance stamina was never seriously in question: Leon Begeman rode his 250 in the Iron Butt (11,000 miles over 11 days). Not only did he complete, he placed 12th! The Ninja 250 is up to the task.

Stats

The GPS reports that I hit the following numbers:

Total miles: 442

Time rolling: 9:05:46

Average speed: 48.6 MPH

Maximum speed: 86.5 MPH

I left the house at around 9:15 am, and arrived back around 10:50 pm, making for 13 hours and 35 minutes total time away. I know that I spent about half an hour just sitting still on the bike, at least, so my riding time was more like 9:30 or 10 hours out of that 13 and a half.

Gas mileage was as follows (mileages are from the bike's odometer, not the GPS):

1st fill up (233.5 miles): 61.01 MPG

2nd fill up (218.5 miles): 53.67 MPG

Average mileage (452 total miles): 57.34 MPG

Lessons Learned

It's better to be a bit too warm than a bit too cold. I've been aware of this lesson before, but it was driven home again on this trip. The day dawned quite cool, probably in the 50s. I decided, based solely on the morning temperature, that the vented gear would be a terrible idea. I'm very glad I made that decision, since I would have been absolutely freezing until after lunch. I was a bit warm after lunch and until about 6 pm, but not so much I couldn't stand it. Too warm makes me a little bit cranky, if I let it. Too cold reduces my ability to think, react and move. I'll take too warm, thanks.

I carve a mean seat. This was the first really long trip I'd taken on my new, homemade seat. You can read about the project here. Surprisingly (to me, at least), my butt never got really truly sore on this trip. Sure, it hurt after a while, but I found that I could shift around and keep myself fairly comfortable. Nice to know all the months spent carefully shaving that seat paid off.

Backroads good! Freeway bad! This trip definitely drove home the point that droning down the freeway sucks. Particularly on a windy day, riding the littlest Ninja at 70+ MPH for any length of time is very tiring, due both to lack of wind protection, and the skittish feeling of the light bike dancing around road irregularities, and being blown about by crosswinds and big trucks. The backroads, on the other hand, were great fun, and made the trip quite worthwhile.

The Ninja 250 really is capable of distance riding. Doubters beware, I'm fairly pleased with the Ninja 250's ability to do "big bike" trips. Yes, I would have been happier with the Le Mans, but the Ninja was up to the task. Certainly I would have filled the tank more than twice had I ridden the Le Mans. Taking the Ninja simplified fuel planning: fill once at the beginning, and once in the middle (and once at the end, so I wouldn't have to do it the next morning on the way to work, but that doesn't really count).