On to day three (I'm getting a bit behind here). I woke up in Crane Hot Springs (well in the morning, I was also up in the middle of the night to return some beer and water) to find that all that steam from the hot springs settles over camp and makes everything nice and damp. As such, first thing I did was set crack open a can of coffee and start sorting things out for packing.
Natures drying rack, just don't touch the electric fence...
I packed what I could and went to the common area to get some coffee (free!). On the way back I ran into the owner of the Harley. His name was John and he only started riding to honor his son who ended his life due to PTSD from Irag. The bike was his sons and he was on the tail end of a trip that starts with a rally to honor veterans like his son.
Neither one of us were in a hurry and we were having a good chat so I suggested we get coffee and hang out on the porch. He'd lived his whole life in Oregon and was doing a loop through a bunch of eastern Oregon. We swapped stories about riding in the weather, dealing with heavily loaded bikes, etc. I think we talked for an hour or so before we both decided it was probably time to get on the road.
I got everything packed up, then saw the things I was drying, THEN got everything packed up, and was finally on the road. I went to the Crane store to get a tank full of 85 as I was told there was no premium Buchanan.
I had put a gallon into the tank from my gas bag the night prior, but with the fuel light still on, I wasn't willing to risk the 20 miles to Buchanan for what was just gpnna be 85. The day was clear, with amazing clouds, probably owing to the previous days weather.
It was a straight shot from Crane to Buchanan.
Turns out, they have premium, so I pulled over and topped of my tank as well as filled the gas bag. The woman running that place told me her father built the Crane store where I'd just been in 1978. I mentioned that was the year I was born and realized she might not have wanted to hear about me bneing the same age as something she's known her whole life. She also told me about the hot springs before they were developed and how muddy it'd get and how hot the water was. Cool to get some local history like that.
The only challenge with rides like this is I really wanna spend time in all these places, but then I'd never really get anywhere.
And given that, I was off. The
route for the day was both scenic and entertaining, not particularly technical early on, but some nice sweepers and views.
I stopped at this pass because I was amused with the elevation noted given my Pakistan experience where anything under 6,000 feet didn't really register.
I was told by the guy I was chatting with at camp that the fries at the Oasis (only thing there) in Juntura were good, and as it happened it was around noon as I was passing through, so, I went for it.
Proper diner food and the fries were definitely fresh cut. This was a half order of the "large" order of fries. I was glad I was made aware that half orders were an option.
The guy running the counter was nice, and rode himself. We talked about stupid deer and motorcycles. He asked if I needed to use his phone to let anyone know I was good after I asked about wifi which they didn't have, I told him I was just wanting to look at my route but I knew where I was going. I told him my plan and he agreed iwth was a dead easy route to follow and told me I'd hit cell signal before too long anyway.
The road swept through a scenic canyon, but due to those fun corners and getting past slow trucks, only this one picture was taken.
I stopped at this store for gas, but it turns out, they were in fact, entirely out of gas. The only person getting serviced was a patron enjoying some mid-day mid-week white wine.
And also canned coffee, they did have those frappuchinos so I had one and chatted with the very dapper older guy running the place. He was a contrast to the otherwise disheveled state of the stock in that store. After finishing my beverage and chatting about the trip thus far, I was back on my way.
I stopped at this "scenic" overlook. It was fine, old volcano out int he field and an aqueduct that was hand dug in 1881.
After a bit of a haul, I was starting to get glimpses of Idaho in the distance.