I slept pretty hard. I hadn't set an alarm, but I woke up at 6:30 AM Moscow time. According to my body, that was 8:30 AM. I got 7.5 hours of sleep. I could have used another hour or two of sleep to try and make up for the previous few days, but 8:30 was three hours past my normal wake up time. I'm impressed I was able to sleep as long as I did.
I showered and prepared. This was going to be another fasting day, so I didn't have to bother with trying to find some food for breakfast. Even without having to take time to eat, it still took me 1.5 hours to get going. I was moving pretty slow this morning.
I packed all my stuff and loaded up the motorcycle.
I did all the little things one has to do before departing: put in ear plugs, put on protective gear, load the map file in the GPS, get the time lapse camera going, etc. It's a process.
I was pretty much ready to go, and went to put my helmet on. By chance I looked at it and happened to notice that my helmet visor screw had come loose, to the point where it was about to fall off. Had I lost that, it would have made for a long remainder of the trip. It's not the kind of screw you could just run to the local hardware store and pick up a replacement.
I grabbed a screwdriver out of my tool kit and tightened the screw. While I was at it, I also tightened the same screw on the other side. It wasn't as loose as the right side, but wasn't tight either. Once they were both nice and tight I noticed that the visor went up and down a bit stiffer, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
I pulled out of the Asbury House around 8 AM. It was already 86°F this early in the morning, which meant I was in for another hot day. Thankfully, this day was going to be the shortest of the entire trip. I hoped to be on Whidbey island around 5 PM.
I rode down the main street of Moscow.
During most motorcycle trips I prefer filling my gas tank each night, either right when I arrive at my destination town, or right after I go find some supper. On this trip I only filled up at night one time: the very first day. The remaining days after that, I was too tired and unmotivated to deal with it in the evenings.
So, that meant I needed to find gas before I got out of Moscow. I saw a gas station towards the west side of town, so I pulled in. As I was topping off my tank I noticed the name of the gas station chain was "Stinker Stores." Not sure how it received that moniker.
My windshield was pretty smeared from bugs, so I decided to give it a quick once-over before I got back on the road. As I used the wash fluid and squeegee near the gas pump, I became aware of a horrific smell. I realized that it was from the washer liquid. It smelled like something had died right inside the reservoir. Maybe that's how the store got its name? I doubt it, but it was applicable in this situation.
I had already started wiping my windshield with this rancid fluid, so at this point I was committed. I finished washing the window and hoped once dry the smell wouldn't linger on my bike.
By the time I had the bike filled with gas and was ready to hit the road, it was 8:26 AM. It seemed like everything I did this morning took twice the amount of time as normal.
The Washington State line is literally on the west side of Moscow. You pass the Wal-Mart, and there it is. I didn't realize I was that close. This was the first time I'd ever been in the state of Washington, either via motorcycle or any other means.
About five miles west of Moscow is Pullman, WA. Pullman has a branch of Washington State University, which I got a photo of as I waited at a stoplight.
In Pullman I managed to miss a left turn onto highway 270. I realized as I was going through the intersection that I should have been in the left lane, but by then it was too late. I wound up riding through a couple back streets until I made it back onto my planned route.
Highway 270 was just a short connecting highway to get me over to highway 195.
I rode highway 195 north to Colfax, where I then headed west on highway 26.
In all my decades of riding motorcycles, I've ridden through some desolate areas. Highway 26 through southeastern Washington state may have been the most desolate one of them all.
Had I known how barren this route was going to be, I probably would have picked some different roads, even if it added a few miles to the trip.
Between Colfax, WA and Othello, WA, there was 95 miles of mostly nothing. No trees, no scenery, no cell service.
On this entire section of highway, I passed only one little town. If someone needed services as they traveled this stretch, they would be mostly out of luck.
To match the remoteness, there was hardly any vehicle traffic. As I rode I hoped I didn't have a breakdown, as I would be in a big pickle. I would likely be waiting a long time until someone stopped to help.
For much of this stretch, it didn't even look like the land was suitable for farming. At one point I saw a huge cloud of dust up ahead. I thought it was a dust storm, but as I went by it was a farmer tilling the land for some unknown purpose. All he seemed to be doing was throwing huge amounts of dirt into the air.
Boredom and fatigue were starting to take its toll. There just wasn't much to keep my mind engaged.
On top of that, the temp already hit triple digits again by mid morning. The heat was intense, and there wasn't a hint of shade anywhere. There were hardly even any clouds for the sun to occasionally duck behind.
Surely this stretch had to end. I couldn't imagine riding much longer than I did in this barren place.
If there were any alternate roads to get me to the interstate faster, I probably would have taken one of them. But there weren't. So I continued on my original route.
Just miles and miles of nothing.
Finally, I made it to highway 17 right before Othello, WA. I took this highway north, which gave me two pieces of relief. First, I was slowly getting into a more habited portion of the state. And second, that meant I was only 25 miles from I-90.
Anyone who's followed my travels knows I don't give preference to riding interstates if there are other roads available that meet my needs. However, I knew that once I got to I-90 I would only have about 30 miles until I would get back off the interstate, at which point the riding would get a lot more interesting.
Just west of Warden, WA I reached my first gas stop of the day. It felt good to get off the bike. The AirHawk had done a good job the first two days, but by this morning I was starting to notice a bit of butt soreness.
After I filled up, I decided to go into the store and use the bathroom. When I walked in, I saw a large display of fried foods. I would see identical displays at many convenience stores in the region while I was on this trip. I'm guessing it was the same company that supplied these stores with the food.
While it smelled delicious (especially because I was fasting) I did find it interesting that, apart from the fried chicken, I had a hard time telling what any of the rest of them were. There had to have been at least a dozen different options.
There was a sign hanging above the display stating the different food items and their prices. However, looking at the actual food in the display, most of them looked the same. The same general shape, size and color. I'm not sure how a person was supposed to differentiate between them without taking a bite.
I guess it didn't matter as I wasn't going to eat anything. I started looking for the bathroom. The lady behind the register must have recognized my puzzled face, and said, "There's no bathroom."
I was a bit surprised, especially since the place sold food and was located miles from any other traveler's stop. The woman probably tells people there's no bathroom a hundred times per day.
I wasn't in dire need of the restroom. At the same time, now that I'd learned how barren this part of Washington state is, I didn't want to wait until I was in dire need and then discover there were no facilities available.
I remember seeing a porta-potty in a nearby empty lot. I walked around the building and could see it, so I walked over to it. It was kind of strange that it was sitting all by itself in the middle of an empty lot.
I went inside and quickly realized that it hadn't been pumped out and cleaned in a long, long time, and had been marinating in the open sun the entire time. I wanted to hold my breath, but doing so meant I would be holding the toxic air inside my lungs so I could fully absorb it. I was conflicted.
I emptied my bladder as fast as physically possible for a middle-aged man, and got out of there as soon as I could. Maybe the reason this thing was so far from any other structure was to keep the smell away? It's a plausible hypothesis.
I slathered on a layer of sunscreen, then reluctantly got back on the bike. The previous 1,400 miles of riding over the last 60 hours was starting to take its toll, and the extreme heat wasn't making it any easier. I was really starting to look forward to getting to Whidbey where I could take a break from piling on the miles each day.
I continued north on highway 17.
I was starting to see more signs of civilization. There were farms and other vehicles.
I reached I-90, and got on the interstate heading west. I only had to ride the interstate for 27 miles, then I would get off and continue on back roads. It was nice to see lots of other cars for a few minutes.
I got off the interstate near George, WA, and headed north on highway 281 towards the town of Quincy.
As I rode through Quincy, I passed a rather large apple processing plant. Then, on the west side of the town I passed thousands of acres of apple orchards. That was kind of cool, as it's a crop we don't see back home in South Dakota.
About five miles west of Quincy was the Columbia River valley. This was very scenic.
There was a steep grade as the road descended down into the valley. Pictures don't do the steepness justice.
At the bottom of the hill on the river was the Rock Island dam.
As I entered the town of East Wenatchee, WA, traffic became very thick. I was sitting still a lot, which in the triple digit heat made things uncomfortable without a breeze to regulate my body temperature. Add to that the heat rising up from an air-cooled engine that's not moving. I was warm.
I crossed the bridge over the Columbia River into the town of Wenatchee. I had a gas stop planned in this town.
At 35k people, Wenatchee isn't a small town, but it's also not a screaming metropolis. That's why I was surprised that once over the bridge I hit gridlock.
Cars were just sitting still, only occasionally moving forward. The heat from my engine was rising and elevating my already broiling mood. I felt myself getting very upset at the situation and tried to stay calm as we slowly inched forward.
After taking twenty minutes to move ten or twelve blocks (I wasn't counting the exact number) I came to an intersection where police had shut the road down. I'm not sure why. There were a lot of cop cars in the area, so some emergency was happening. They directed the traffic to take a right turn.
Not being familiar with the area, I wasn't sure where I was going. I rode down a block, then followed a street that ran parallel to the one I was supposed to be following. After six or seven more blocks, the traffic cleared up, which was a welcome sight.
I eventually decided to try and get back on the original street the police had directed us off of. There weren't any cops blocking the road, so I must have gotten past whatever was causing the traffic jam.
I found a gas station and pulled in. I only had 80 miles on this tank of gas, so I probably could have pushed onward and skipped this stop. I needed a break anyway, and there wasn't any point in causing me stress trying to eke out every last mile from the current tank of gas.
By the way, "eke" is the correct spelling even though it's pronounced like "eek." Thank you spell check for educating me on this previously unknown grammatical fact.
The thermometer now said 108°F, and I don't think it was lying. It felt every bit of that temp, if not warmer.
After filling up I went inside and used the bathroom. This restroom wasn't a toxic waste disposal area like the porta-potty earlier, so that was a welcome change. I thought about grabbing something to drink. My stomach was a little funny from the heat, and from the stress of the gridlock. I decided I could wait. I had some (now very hot) water in my saddlebag if I got desperate enough.
I put on another layer of sunscreen. I also decided I couldn't take it any longer, and removed my jacket and gloves. I really tried to be a good boy and wear my protective gear as much as possible, but at a certain point I had to throw in the towel and stash the jacket in my saddlebag.
I did leave my full-face helmet on. Washington has a helmet law, so that pretty much eliminated the temptation to ride without it. I had left my open-faced helmet at home because I didn't have room to carry two helmets. It would have been nice to have the option to switch.
I got back on the road. It felt like I was running behind schedule, so I wanted to start making better time. In retrospect, I wasn't really running behind. I think I was just very tired and really wanted to get to my destination.
So it didn't help my frustration that between the towns of Wenatchee and Leavenworth, there were lots of stoplights. I managed to hit nearly every single one of them when the light was red.
I would get up to speed just in time to reach another stoplight and come to a stop and sit and wait while no traffic was crossing in the perpendicular direction..
I was starting to boil internally, both from the physical heat but also from the emotional heat. It's not good when I get to this dark mental place. Motorcycle trips are supposed to be a time of relaxation and unwinding, not a cause of stress.
While no longer gridlocked, traffic was steady. In my mind I thought highway 2 would be rather sparsely traveled, but there was a good deal of traffic the entire way through to the west side of the state.
As I came through the town of Leavenworth, I saw a neat coaster-type ride built into the side of a mountain. I remember thinking that it looked like fun, and in retrospect I kind of wished I had stopped to take a ride. It probably would have done me some good, mentally. Full disclosure: this isn't my photo. I stole it off the internet:
Seeing the coaster and wishing I was in a good enough mood to ride it was enough of a wake-up-call to snap me back into a better frame of mind. I felt like I came to a realization of how upset I had become, and how ludicrous it was to be mad while riding my motorcycle through the mountains.
Once I got west of Leavenworth, traffic started to flow more smoothly. While there were lots of cars on the road, there were no more small towns and intersections every mile or so. This also helped lighten my mood.
I was able to relax and enjoy the road for a while. It was about 80 miles of mountain riding until my next gas stop in Monroe, WA.
Towards the west end of highway 2, I ran into some frustration again. There was a driver who was going below the speed limit. That's fine, not everyone has to drive at the posted speed. However, what really irked me was when we would get to a place where there was a passing lane, the driver would purposefully gun the engine and accelerate to more than 70 mph just to stay in front of me. Then once the passing lane ended they would slow down to 45 mph again.
It seemed purposeful, like the driver was deliberately trying to hinder me. I started to feel frustration mounting again. I tried to stay calm, and tell myself that it was only 10 more miles to Monroe, then I could stop for gas. After that I would never see this person again.
I did my best to keep the road rage at bay until I reached the town of Monroe. When I got to the gas station, I was getting ready to signal my turn when I saw the driver in front of me was also signaling. I decided it probably wouldn't be good if we both stopped at the same gas stop, so I continued heading straight. I could find another gas station, and hopefully some serenity along with it.
About a mile down the road I did indeed come across another gas station, so I stopped. I had enough fuel to get me all the way to Whidbey, but I needed a break from the bike for a few minutes.
After filling my tank, I went inside the store and bought a Gatorade. I was feeling pretty thirsty at this point, and my bottle of hot water in the saddlebag didn't sound appealing. I then went back outside and drank it. Now that I was through the mountains, the temp had cooled down to a more reasonable 87°F, so it didn't feel too bad to stand outside.
As I was resting, another guy on a motorcycle pulled up and parked. He walked over near me to have a cigarette, and we struck up a conversation. We discussed riding in the area, and where we were from. He told me about how the small towns around Seattle were no longer small towns. It was a good conversation.
He gave me tips about the ferry, and said that traffic was going to be getting heavy in that area very soon. Wanting to make it to the ferry before rush hour traffic got into full swing, I bid him adieu and headed back out. I only had about 40 miles left to Whidbey.
As he predicted, traffic was getting heavy as I rode out of Monroe. I could tell I was on the outskirts of the Seattle metro area.
I reached the entrance to interstate 5. It felt like a milestone. I was definitely on the home stretch now.
I only had to ride south on I-5 for about four miles. Traffic was steady in this direction, but not jammed full. I was glad I was heading south, as I could see the oncoming northbound lane was packed and not moving very fast.
I took the Mukilteo exit and headed west on route 536. There's a really large Boeing plant along this road, so I got to see some big planes that were under construction. That was interesting.
I made it to the ferry and got in the line of cars waiting for the toll booth. It didn't seem too backed up yet, so it appears that I beat the rush hour traffic. It was now about 4 PM.
When it was my turn at the ferry booth, I paid my toll, then heard the toll booth operator give me a flurry of instructions. I asked for a repeat, but didn't understand them the second time either.
I apologized and explained that I was completely new to the ferry situation, so I wasn't understanding where to go. I could see the lines of cars, and was trying to figure out which line she wanted me in.
She explained it a third time, that I wasn't supposed to get in a line. Instead, I was supposed to ride to the left of the cars, on the other side of the median, in the oncoming traffic lane all the way to the front.
That seemed weird to me, so I repeated it back to her to make sure I understood. She confirmed that I had heard her correctly, so I thanked her and took off. I rode down the oncoming traffic lane. As I rode the wrong direction, a few people looked at me with looks as puzzled as I felt. Thankfully there were no cars coming so I didn't have to dodge anyone coming at me.
Once I got to the end of the lane up near the ferry entrance, I could see a line of motorcycles. It all made sense to me now. Motorcycles get loaded onto the ferry first, so she wanted me to bypass the lines of waiting cars and get up to the front.
As I pulled up next to another rider I mentioned that I hoped I was in the right spot. He acknowledged that I was. We then started chatting, and I explained that I was traveling and this was my first time on the ferry, and my first visit to Whidbey Island.
He got very friendly then, and told me about the whole process. He commutes by motorcycle every day. He said that in a few minutes when rush hour will hit, the people in the cars will be waiting in line for several hours. For him, riding a motorcycle made the commute bearable as he can always go right to the front of the line.
While I was waiting for the ferry to arrive, I messaged Shawn and told him where I was. He was excited that I was so close. He asked if I was going to head straight to his house, or if I would stop at my Airbnb first. I told him I wanted to stop, and for the good of all humanity I needed a shower before I went anywhere else.
The ferry arrived, and the boarded vehicles all unloaded. When I saw the other riders around me get on their bikes, I used that as my cue to also get on mine.
We rode onto the ferry.
They moved us to the very front of the boat, which meant we would also be the first off the ferry on the other side.
I parked the bike, then went upstairs to explore the ferry as they continued to load vehicles.
There were a couple of large seating areas. It seemed to me like they had about twice the number of seats as they had room for vehicles, but I can't say for sure.
I walked out onto the front sun deck. From there I could look down and see the motorcycles. I also managed to get my finger in this picture.
I then walked all the way to the back of the ferry and saw the ferry station as we were departing.
There was a snack bar. I was tempted to grab something to eat, as I was very hungry from fasting. I decided that I could hold off for a little while longer.
The ferry crosses the Puget Sound from Mukilteo over to Whidbey Island. The water was pretty smooth on this day, so I could barely feel the ship moving.
At this crossing point on the Puget Sound there are two ferries. It's an hour round trip, so the second ferry allows crossings in each direction to happen every thirty minutes. About halfway across we passed the other ferry heading south.
As we approached the other side of the sound, an announcement came over the loudspeakers to return to our vehicles. I walked down the steps to the lowest level, and out to the bikes. I put my gear back on. Other riders had mounted their bikes, so I followed suit and got on mine.
The rider next to me that I had been talking to earlier told me to be ready when the boat stops. He wasn't kidding. The boat lurched to a stop and I nearly dropped my bike. I wasn't expecting a jolt like that. The other rider laughed and said if I did drop my bike, I wouldn't have been the first to do so.
When the ferry operator gave the signal, we started our bikes. Then when he gave another signal we rode off the ferry. I left the ferry area and now was officially on Whidbey Island.
Earlier the other rider had asked me where on Whidbey I was staying. I told him I wasn't sure, I was just following the blue line on my GPS. That's what I did as I was heading to my Airbnb; I just followed the blue line.
Whidbey Island is very pretty. Most of the roads are tree lined on either side.
The blue line instructed me to take a left down a gravel road. The entrance onto the gravel was pretty sketchy. It was rutted and loose. I took great care not to do something dumb and lay the bike down. It would be a shame to make it this far and then wreck 1/4 mile from where I was staying!
About 1/4 mile down the gravel road I reached my Airbnb. It was literally at the very end of the road. I pulled up and my parking spot was right in front of the door. There were a couple of Airbnb rentals on the property. Mine was called
The door was unlocked as the instructions said it would be. Shawn would later tell me that nobody on Whidbey locks their doors. My room was over the garage, so a stairway greeted me inside the door.
You never know what to expect with rentals (or hotels/motels for that matter.) Everything always looks really good in the pictures, but sometimes when you see it in person things aren't as nice. As I reached the top of the stairs I saw my temporary home for the next three nights and was pleasantly surprised. It was really nice!
It was very open, with lots of natural light. There was plenty of furniture, and a full kitchen on one side. Next to the dining area was a deck. I wound up not using the deck during my stay, but it was cool that it was available as an option.
This rental loft only had one bedroom, although I believe the couch would fold out into a bed if more sleeping space was needed. Obviously, for a solo traveler like me the one bedroom was plenty.
The bathroom was nice, and fully stocked with linens.
The great room had a TV, although I never did turn it on during my entire stay.
I went back down to the motorcycle to grab my luggage. As I did I took a few other photos. This is the outside of my Airbnb. My room is above the garage.
Next to the Loft was the main house where the owners lived. I wound up only seeing one of them as they were leaving. Other than waving, that was the only interaction I had with them. They gave me lots of privacy.
I snapped a photo of the yard.
I did a little unpacking, then showered off and changed clothes. A few minutes after my shower I heard a "crash" which startled me. I went into the bathroom and discovered that the friction fit shower curtain rod was not strong enough to support the weight of the wet towel I had hung over it.
I replaced the curtain rod, then hung my towel on a different hook. One thing I noticed during my stay on Whidbey was how low the humidity was. After showering my towels would be completely dry in just a couple hours.
I messaged Shawn and told him I was on the way to his house. I rode back down the driveway, taking extra care at the end to avoid the ruts.
Shawn only lived about 2 1/2 miles away. It took about 7 minutes to get there from my Airbnb. I found his house, and pulled in. Shawn heard me and came out to greet me.
As I had mentioned, the last time I saw Shawn in person was a little more than five years prior. He came to Sioux Falls to visit the week before my open heart surgery.
It's interesting how with some people, even if you haven't seen them in a long time it's like no time has passed. It's like that with Shawn. Immediately the friendship felt like it did when we were back in high school.
Shawn moved to Whidbey from Sioux Falls about nine years before my visit. At the time he bought his property, he was married. As life often throws curveballs (notice how many times I've typed that phrase already in this story?), before he and his wife could move they wound up getting a divorce. So, he came out to Whidbey with just his mom Sharon, and his son Cody.
Both Sharon and Cody still live with him, along with a somewhat adopted daughter Echo. Shawn also has a new wife Anica, who still lives in the Philippines. Like I said, life throws unexpected curveballs.
We went inside the house and sat and visited with his mom. Sharon's been fighting some health problems of her own as of late. There's too much of that going around.
After chatting for a while, Shawn gave me a tour of his property. His mom and Echo stay in the main house. He stays in an old RV parked next to the house. And Cody stays in a small building out back.
Shawn had originally planned to get a couple days off of work while I was visiting. He works nights cleaning the floors at a local grocery store. Unfortunately, the guy who would have covered his shifts wound up getting Covid, so Shawn couldn't get out of work. He normally starts heading to work around 8:30 PM.
It was now about 7 PM. We decided to quickly go get something to eat before Shawn had to leave for work. There aren't a whole lot of food options on Whidbey, and by this time the only fast restaurant that was open was the Dairy Queen in Clinton.
Cody and Echo wanted to come as well, so we all piled into Shawn's SUV. Sharon wasn't well enough to travel, but she did request that Shawn bring her back a chili dog.
The Dairy Queen was about 10 minutes away. I was very hungry, not having eaten anything since the previous evening. However, I wanted to stay below 500 calories if possible. I ordered just a cheeseburger. Cody got a mountain of fries with his order, so I wound up eating a few of those as well. I probably ate too many calories, but didn't get ridiculous.
After we ate, we headed back to Shawn's house. It was now a little past eight. However my central-time body was telling me it was past ten. Shawn asked if I wanted to come in and visit for a few more minutes before he had to leave for work. Thinking I would have plenty of time to talk to Sharon again over the next couple days, I opted to just call it a night and head back to my Airbnb. Plus I wanted to swing by the grocery store to pick up some food items for the next couple days, and the store closed at 9.
As it turned out, I never made it back to Shawn's house while I was on Whidbey. Had I known that was going to happen, I would have chosen differently. I feel bad that I only saw Sharon, Cody and Echo that one time.
Rather than trying to back out of his driveway, Shawn suggested I just cut through his yard to get out onto the road. That seemed like a better option until I actually did it. As it turned out, the dip in front of the road was a lot deeper than it looked, and I bottomed out pretty hard. Oops. I don't think any damage occurred, but it was a noise that made me cringe.
I rode to the nearest grocery store, which was the Red Apple in the town of Clinton. I needed to grab a bag of spinach so I had a source of vitamin K. I also wanted to pick up something I could eat for breakfast so I wouldn't have to go out (unless I just felt like going out.)
Regarding my vitamin K comment, for those who have read my stories of trips from years past, let me give you the Cliff Notes version: I had open heart surgery in spring of 2019 and received a mechanical aortic valve. To keep blood clots from forming on the valve and causing a stroke, I need to be on blood thinners for the rest of my life. To help regulate the blood thinners, I need to keep my vitamin K intake very consistent. Most dark green vegetables are high in vitamin K. At home I have the routine figured out, but while traveling it can get tricky because my eating patterns change. So I wanted a bag of spinach to eat while I was on Whidbey to keep my blood from getting too thin.
After buying my groceries, I rode back to my Airbnb. It was now getting dark as I entered the loft, and I discovered that I was unfamiliar with the layout of where the light switches were in my room. I fumbled around in the dark until I found one, then went on the hunt for others. The kitchen lights took me a good twenty minutes to find until I finally discovered the switch wedged between the wall and the fridge.
I called home to report in and catch up with everything happening back in Sioux Falls. We didn't talk long, as it was getting pretty late.
I made a spinach salad using some Italian dressing that was left in the fridge. While I ate my salad, I caught up on my correspondence. I then washed my dishes and got ready for bed.
I turned the lights out at 10:45, which was 12:45 my body's time. I accepted the fact that I would get my body's clock all screwed up on this trip.
I was really surprised how good the mattress was. It was just the right amount of soft, and the pillows were equally perfect. I fell asleep and slept well.
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This page last updated on 12/16/2024
