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Ahhhh,, the summer of 14,,, ADVENTURE SERVED UP GORMET STYLE!!!!


cowpuc

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Well I tells ya......

How about you keep writing this wonderful stuff and I'll think about it.

You do realize that if I am busy reading, I cant be out in the shed playing with my various machines.....

 

 

Point well taken,,, OPEN THE GATE AND GET OUT THE WAY,, PUC'S FINGERS ARE COMIN OUTA CHUTE 9!!!:big-grin-emoticon:

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Puc,

 

We're 6 1/2 hours away from 2 days that you have not given us anything to read.

 

I'm gonna have to call a counselor.

 

Bob

 

A watched pot never boils,, no,, thats not it,,,,,, patience is virtue,, noo,, thats not what I am looking for either,, ohh,, here it is,, the dog ate my home work,, where da heck did that come from,, here we go,,,,, a Puc original,, time knows no bounds when putting my thoughts to the pen, writing to me is a lot like dropping a feather off the edge of the Grand Canyon and waiting for it to reach the canyon floor.... :big-grin-emoticon:

 

Soon,, very very soon!!:thumbsup:

Edited by cowpuc
I tried to write some poetry in response to Bob's impatience and got in a hurry and I wrote "had" twice, had to delete "had"
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"Let's think of something to do while we're waiting

While we're waiting for something new to do.

Let's try to think up a song while we're waiting

That's liberating and will be true to you."

 

Thank you PB, that played right into a huge part of the next installment.

 

 

Anyone riding along with us on this crazy journey that would like to research some of the deeper meanings of CTFWing would be wise to pay heed and follow this pre story primer riddle: (this will also help any readers who will be struggling to make sense of the story and the crazy people you are about to meet at Venture West)

 

For those looking for something to do, the words of this old cowboy are just for you, others who are thinking song, learn what follows and you cant go wrong!

 

 

 

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As the three us of came to a stop sign at the bottom of the hill, we sat there for a moment taking in the view of the charming town of The Dalles. It quickly became obvious why Condor and Lone Eagle (neither of whom Tip, Tweeks or I had met yet) would choose this location for the rally we were planning to attend. The quaint little town stood nestled into the edge of the mountain range on our left. The Columbia River sitting on our right was used as a picturesque back drop in the mind of original planners of The Dalles, the handsome old river flowed dauntlessly toward the Pacific Ocean which lay to the west of us. Tweeks nudged out onto the main road which was going to lead us into this next phase of our summer CTFWing fun.

 

The main roads leading in and out of The Dalles become one-way as soon as you enter town. We stayed on the west bound path, rode thru town and quickly came to the western edge of the village. I pulled into a fuel station to feed Tweeks and to get my bearings. Tippy and I chatted for few minutes about the fact that we hadn't seen evidence of any other rally members. The rally had been in the planning stages for many months prior to our arrival and during the course of that time, the host (Lone Eagle) had posted a thread at VentureRider.org that contained all the information pertaining to this Venture West Rally.

 

Reading that thread had revealed the usual Sign Up information discussions and a fair amount of chit chat had also taken place concerning the name of the town in which the rally would be held. Apparently there were two towns in Oregon called Dalles, one was "Dalles" and the other "The Dalles". Due to the lack of us spotting anything or anyone that looked remotely like participants of the rally, I commented to my riding partner that I had hoped Tweeks had not led us into the wrong municipality. The thought occurred to me that maybe one of the people involved in the planning process of the Rally had informed the local law enforcement of the upcoming biker immigration into their metropolis.

 

The police officer had been inside the little store where his squad car was parked out front. We pulled in beside his car just as he was coming out of the store. He smiled and said, looks like you folks have been doing some serious motorcycling. After a short conversation about how much fun we had been having since departing Michigan back in May, the conversation turned to one about the rally. When asked if he was aware of a big gathering of motorcycles, possibly consisting of twelve thousand bikes, descending on his town he winced and said he hadn't heard of or seen any of them. I told him that it was possible that I had chosen the wrong town, he told me he had heard of the other "Dalles" Oregon and that quite possibly I was correct.

While we were chatting, I remembered that either BikerJohn or Coff (or both) had told me the name of the State Park Campground that they would be staying at. I asked the young officer if he had ever heard of the "Loose Moose" State Park. He laughed, said no and shook his head in a back and forth motion that clearly reinforced his answer. As we were saddling Tweeks to go find a map to see how far we were from the "Dalles", the officer suddenly started laughing again and said, I wonder if you are talking about Memaloose State Park? I grinned and said, THATS IT!! We thanked the young officer for the directions to the State Park, gave him some encouragement that I was probably way off in my comment about there being twelve thousand bikes coming into his patrol area too. He was very happy to hear me bring that number down to a count of maybe 50 motorcycles, all of who's riders would be a lot like us, very good people.

We ate lunch and headed west out of The Dalles in search of the Loose Moose State Park. The Oregon roadway we were on leisurely followed the edge of the Columbia River. It wasn't long before we noticed a sign that said "Memaloose State Park" with an arrow to the right. We pulled off and found a very small parking area but no evidence of a camping area per se.. As we sat in the little pull off area chatting, I told Tip that maybe the folks in Oregon just camped in parking lots like we had done under certain circumstances in the past. We decided to get back on the road and see if the next exit revealed a much larger area where people could let the kids and Mooses loose without have to worry about them. We had no sooner gotten back on the main road when I noticed a large camping area down below the steep cliff that the roadway we were on was carved into. In an effort to find the road leading to the cliff side camping area, we rode up to the next exit, made a "U" turn and went back toward the previous exit. There was no exit that would connect us to the west bound "Memaloose" exit so we had to go past it again and return in the west bound lane to, once again, take that exit. This may sound way to complicated for some of you readers BUT, if you picture the setting of a mountain cliff with a pretty good size river running below it and than picture modern man coming along and deciding that he needed a roadway to run parallel with the river even though there were areas that, aside from exiting off into the river, there was no where to exit so, he had to pick and choose his exits very carefully or people would easily get confused and drive off into the Columbia River.The road planners had to create exit ramps along the roadway that barely fit into the remote landscape by itself. After doing that, they made smaller exit ramps attached to the landing zones of the actual exit ramps attached to the main roadway. It took some doing but we figured all that out once we got back to the Loose Moose exit. In all of the excitement of taking in the beauty of the area and knowing we had successfully reached our intended destination (CTFW doesn't always produce this result) we had completely missed the secondary exit ramp on our initial contact with the exit ramp.

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This time. Tip spotted the little trail leading off the main exit ramp landing zone. We coasted down the hill that led into the camping area where we were hoping to meet up with our Hero from Texas - Biker John and to finally get a chance to meet CMCoffey in person. At the bottom of the down hill on the left hand side, with a big Texas grin on his face, sat our friend - BikerJohn followed by a handsome, clean shaven young man with the look of someone who was currently quite successful at being one of our countries finest - CMCoffey in person.

After the usual jumping up and down in a ceremonial victory dance that only people who have ridden, sailed, flown, driven or walked long distances across sea's, skys or lands that are constantly searching for ways to deprive them of life - liberty and the pursuit of happiness can appreciate, we settled into the task of setting up our Menards Hotel on the small camping spot that John and Coff had waiting for us.

 

I noticed right away that there was an additional camper also camping in our location. A really neat looking camper/motorcycle trailer that had obviously been home built by someone with way more talent and patience than yours truly can relate to. BikerJohn revealed to Tip and I that the trailer belonged to a couple from southern California who, like Tweeks, Tip and I had been out CTFWing all over the country and would be joining us for the duration, a couple known on Venture Rider as Mr. and Mrs. Shuttlebug. Johns tent was already set up behind the Shuttlebug trailer and Coff had planted his tent stakes behind Johns. Tip and I picked out a nice little patch of ground off in the far back regions of the plot in an area that had an ample supply of roots, rocks and grasses that would work perfectly for massaging the knots in our bodies that older CTFWers like myself naturally acquire when doing the work of assembling a large motel like the one Tweeks carry's on her back.

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Another member of Venture Rider who was also attending the rally, a very likeable and daring fellow by the name of VentureFar (I say daring because VentureFar carries the earned badge of at least one "Iron Butt Rider" written on it) who had ridden in from Southern California was back in the town of The Dalles and staying there at another camping area. A place with a swimming pool, rooms with doors that lock, real mattresses and running water inside those rooms (I felt sorry for the people who, like VentureFar, had been forced to stay in such inadequate facilities but,, as always in life, not all CTFWers can expect the best of the best like Tweeks - Tip and I always seem to end up with).

VentureFar had arranged with the Hosts of the rally to be the person that was going to manufacture name tags for everyone attending the event. During the process of planning for fulfilling his responsibilities, V.F. (VenturFar) had asked for people who would like to receive one of these name tags to please turn in their names to him so he could complete the manufacturing process.. Because, at times, I have a hard time even remembering where I left my keys, I thought having my name pasted on my chest for the rally might not be a bad idea. I think I was one of the first people to e-mail my request to VF for tags with "Tippy" and "Cowpuc" written on them.. After I sent the initial order in, I was downstairs in our basement tweeking on Tweeks and asking her if she was sure she felt like she had another summers worth of CTFWing in her. I was reattaching some of the tattered edges of stickers from rides past when she kinda caught me off guard. She mentioned something about feeling like she would be left out if she didn't have a name tag of her own should she make it all the way back out to Oregon (she had been thru the region the year before and was pretty familiar with the arduous mountain travel that was facing her). I told her I would ask.

VentureFar didn't even seem to stagger when I broached the subject with him. As a matter of fact, he said he would be honored to make Tweeks her own name tag. He also asked if I needed any others, I thought about it and, being the Grandpa that I am, I couldn't help but mention Dead-Eye and Earth Mover. After receiving that information, a reply came back from VentureFar that he was also hand making something very special for Tweeks. He asked me what color of bike she was. He didnt seem to balk when I explained that she was a true "Heinz 57" with colors of Maroon, Blonde and Black being what laid under most of the stickers, dirt, bugs and grease still attached to her from most of the states in the union (she still has never had an actual bath). Even though our dialog was thru e-mail, I could sense the smile on this understanding bikers face when he read that about the old girl and I was re-assured of that smile when he replied back with - PERFECT!!

Somewhere in the middle of doing his part in the manufacturing and the actual being there for the rally, VentureFar had something come up that was going to cause him to not be able to stay the full four days of the event. His time was cut way short and he was going to have to return to his home in Southern California the day after his arrival in The Dalles (these Iron Butt riders are in a league of their own). Coff knew all this and, I suspect somehow knew that VentureFar had made some really neat things for everyone at the rally, including something very special for Tweeks. After our arrival and during the process of setting up our motel at the Loose Moose Campground, Coff asked if Tip, Tweeks and I would mind following him into town to meet up with VF and others. He rode out ahead of us (THANKS COFF) back toward the place where everyone else was staying while we stayed to finish up getting ready for the evening. Shortly after Coff disappeared, the Shuttlebugs rode up and we started visiting with them and BikerJohn. It wasn't long (remember what I said at the beginning of my story about time going by really fast when ya get on in the years?), shortly after dark,, well,, maybe bedtime, and Coff reappeared. In his possession were the name tags VentureFar had made for us and this really awesome hand made "Back Off Whip" woven in colors that matched Tweeks to a T - IT IS A BEAUTIFUL WORK OF ART!! Coff said that VentureFar wasn't real sure what time he would be leaving the next day but wanted to make sure that we had received his gifts to each of us - like I said, a VERY nice guy that VentureFar, and a very dear friend he was soon to become!

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Fortunate is the person who understands the depth of the meaning of the point that the writers of the movie titled "The Pirates of the Caribbean" were trying to make when they put the following words to the pen - after being stranded on an Island together - CaptN' Jack Sparrow was explaining to Elizabeth that - "yes his ship, the Black Pearl, was a deck, a mast and some sails but the Pearl really represented FREEDOM to Jack (and all other CTFWers)"! In the spirit of the same ideal, a similar point can be found in the movie titled "The City Slickers" when the tired ol worn out Cowboy named Curly explains to a troubled and confused Billy Crystal what is missing in his life. He points to the air with his finger and says "this one thing" and leaves the city slicker to figure it out for himself ( ride his own ride).

Recently, a fellow CTFWer and friend of Tweeks, Tips and mine, known as StealthBlade from VentureRider who had been following along on some of my true but still a little crazy CTFWing ride reports, wrote to me and shared a song that had meant a lot to him throughout his life (THANK YOU BOB - YOUR COMMENTS AND PERSPECTIVE WILL BE TREASURED FOR EVER). Being sung by Tommy Makem and Liam CLancy and titled "The Day of the Clipper", the song is about the people who have tasted the very thing that CaptN' Sparrow was proclaiming about the Pearl and what Curly was pointing at with his finger. That being, that regardless of the lack of modern day conveniences - "Sailing ships and sailing men WILL sail the open waters"!

 

 

 

Some lyrics from that song include:

 

Wooden beams and human dreams are all that makes her go

And the magic of the wind upon her sails

She'd rather fight the weather than the fishes down below

God help us if the rigging ever fails

As the timber creaks, the captain speaks above the vessel's groan

'Til every soul on board can hear the call

It's nothing but the singing of the ship inside her bones

And this is when she like it best of all

Stealthblade suggested that I imagine "The Clipper" being replaced with "Tweeks" and that I find myself (Puc) replaced as the captain in the song... I was deeply touched by Stealthblades thoughts!

 

Like most riders (a lot of them with far more skills and knowledge in the art of CTFWing than I will ever possess) who choose to CTFW as their method of greeting the vessel's groan, I have discovered that the exhausted human body and those sleepy eyes that have been sending endless pictures to the CaptN's brain are not always greeted with a camping area at the end of his day that has actual facilities with food, running water and showers. As a matter of fact, it is truly a rare case when we are CTFWing to discover luxuries like that at the end of 16 hours in the saddle. We normally wake up, ride, find food - water - fuel, run out of daylight, flop down our bedroll, wake up and do it all over again. We have on occasion used Motels for emergency's (like earlier in this trip when Tip had gotten sick) but usually, showers and running water are found at rest areas with sprinklers, Truck Stops or even in lakes/rivers.

One really interesting bathing time that I will never forget is the time we pulled into this tiny little cow town out in North Western Idaho. We had been sucking the memories out of the day since sunup, gobbling them down like a 6 year old eating endless bags of green Skiddles (the only Skiddles that are actually good for you - they are green). It was about 2 in the morning and Tweeks had sniffed up a really nice little town park that had restrooms that were open and the sweetest smelling green grass that the high desert prairie area had ever felt growing from her.. We parked Tweeks on one side of the side walk, I checked the grass carefully to see if people in the area had used this spot for a Doggy Rest Room (Cowpucs one thing,, Dogpuc is a whole nuther matter). I flopped the tent down and we nodded out laying on top of the tent with nothing but the stars for a security blanket and that plush green grass for a cushion under our tent. About two hours into the type of dream that I suspect only us CaptN's can relate to, I woke up with the sea swells having risen to the point they were sending water over the the starboard gun rails of my night time ship and were re-capturing the vessel that lay under us at the Bosun's quarters.. By the time I realized that I had flopped down the corner of our tent where I always rest my head when counting sheep, and located it exactly 8 inches from a pop up sprinkler head and that the people who install underground sprinkling in Idaho use 3 inch well pipe and fire house nozzles for pop ups. At least, thats what our clothing and bedroll looked like by the time we had everything pulled out into the dimly lit parking area. I could hear Tweeks chuckling at Tip and I as we were squeezing water out of our sleeping bags - that sticker covered ol Mule of a ship stopped laughing when I tossed the bags and tent over the top of her so she could assist in drying our gear out.

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Tip and I looked at each other with great big grins when BikerJohn pointed down the hill from the spot he had chosen for the camping spot where we were all camping and announced that the Loose Moose Camp Ground area indeed had running water AND really nice showers with HOT water!! We disappeared as John was explaining about signing in to the place and it wasn't long before we found ourselves exploring this shower phenomena. After an hour or so the hot water started turning cold. Having done my laundry along with trying to remove some of the imbedded dirt from my own body, I slipped my freshly washed riding shorts, tee shirt and Spider Man Boots on and headed up to the camp to find all the other, mostly older, riders already down for the count. Standing there by myself in the darkness with wet - but clean clothes on, I patted Tweeks on the trunk and told her I was proud of her. I walked over to our tent, slid off my riding boots, changed clothes, went back out and hung my freshly cleaned clothes on Tweeks to dry, went back and laid down next to Tip (who was sleeping soundly), patted my best friend on the back and told her I was proud of her too, closed my eyes and didn't open them again until the next morning when the sun was beating down on the roof of our little Motel.

 

 

Having never been in the Military like BikerJohn had been or like CMCoffey currently was, I had never been around military folks during morning routine. I purposely tried to get up early on that first full day at the Loose Moose Campground to see if these two professionally trained outdoor survivalist could teach me anything that may be beneficial to Tip, Tweeks or me in the process of trying to survive the madness of the jungle that awaited us while attending the event during the day. Somewhere out there was mass confusion and some possible hidden dangers that I wanted to be as ready for as I could be. After getting a few hours sleep, I went down and played in hot water a little more, came back to camp and found Coff working his way down to the showers. The two older men of our tribe were still sleeping, probably thinking the extra rest would somehow help them survive thru the same concerns that I was seeking advice for. Coff and I talked for a while about the day, he gave me few words of military tactical advice about handling some of the varmints he had met the night before while scouting out the Venture Rider members who had gathered in town. He than proceeded toward the building down at the bottom of the hill with the hot springs inside.

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After Coff and I had finished our little Pow Wow there next to our bikes, BikerJohn stumbled out his dwelling, walked over to his trailer and started sniffing around for any sign of road grub. He seemed to have a pretty nose and, I am sure from the survival training John had learned in the Military, he had arrived very well equipped. John started pulling stuff out of his trailer like a stove, pots and pans and of course - breakfast. I sat on the bench and watched in amazement as our Texas Hero set about showing how well adapted he had become at open road CTFWing. I explained to John how few of times Tweeks, Tip and I had spent in modern day joints like this Loose Moose State Park and asked if he knew anything about how we were suppose to sign in and all that. He had tried to tell me about it all the night before but I had gotten sidetracked by that building with hot running water down below the hill.. In his usual, kind natured character, John helped me figure out the directions on the envelope that I had retrieved from a post not far from our camping spot.

 

 

By that time, other campers in the Loose Moose area were starting to stir. Mr. Shuttlebug was one of them. I noticed he had gotten out of his awesome home built sleeping quarters and had found his way over to his motorcycle to start the process of preparing for what was to be a long day of meeting people and discovering some of Oregon's finest motorcycle touring area's . He and his wife, Mrs. Shuttlebug, claim Southern California as that home but they had been CTFWing all over the country, like the three of us, and, as I recall, had just pulled into the Venture West Rally from the far away reaches of Montana. A delightful couple who, obviously, would become more good friends of Tweeks, Tippy's and mine.

I walked over to the tent and found that Tippy was no where to be found, I heard a noise behind me and she was standing there with a smile on her face. Her calm but stern Bosun's voice spoke the words that this ol CaptN loves to hear, Tweeks and I are ready to go find breakfast.

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Fantastic adVenture. The cold and maybe some snow are on the way and this is as good as a big mug of hot chocolate sitting by a warm fireplace. :beer:

Randy

@Venturous Randy, Kick off your shoes and grab the hot chocolate good buddy, its show time!!

 

 

And this is when she likes it best of all.

 

Bob

 

YOU GOT THAT RIGHT BOB!! :thumbsup:

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We jumped back on the west bound road out of the State Park, took the exit that we had taken the day before to get back over into the east bound roadway. The 3 of us than took the leisurely ride along the Columbia River back into The Dalles. We had been told that the head quarters for the Venture West Rally was going to be a place called "Cousins" but had no idea exactly were the Cousins who owned Cousins had placed their establishment. We sniffed up some food of our own and fed Tweeks before we started the search for any sign of the main group that would be attending the event. After a few short trips riding back and forth thru town, we finally discovered an obscure area of this little river side borough that we had over looked on our way in from the campground. It was a beautiful spot that the owners of Cousins had chosen for their restaurant which was complete with a very nice conference room and motel complex. We had found our rally point.

 

 

Tip, Tweeks and I were greeted by another new friend and Venture Rider member, an astute fellow by the name of @PederY2K. Peder and I made our introductions and than proceeded into Cousins eatery where a fairly large group of folks who, like Tip and I, obviously enjoyed CTFWing (you can always tell when CTFWers are together - always laughing and talking). We met and chatted with several of these people who had been fortunate enough to have found their way to "The Dalles" (there will be an introduction video of everyone later in the story - there is NO WAY I can remember them all) and we all talked about ride plans for the day. We were about to enjoy some of the most beautiful motorcycling in the world, right here in northern Oregon.

 

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As I mentioned earlier, @VentureFar would be needing to leave on an Iron Butt ride back to his southern California home shortly after this quick introduction period. Thankfully we got a chance to meet and thank VentureFar for his beautiful work on all of our behalfs. I took some memory pictures of our new friend on his Black Royal Star Venture and also a short farewell video. If you look closely at the pictures, you will probably notice a (different color) Back Off Whip hanging from VentureFar's bike - he hand made these gorgeous pieces, VentureFar is a very talented person!! THANK YOU AGAIN NEIL FOR ALL YOUR HARD WORK WITH THE NAME TAGS AND THE WHIPS!!

 

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A person does not have to spend a lot of time in the presents of groups of bikers before they will probably hear the term "Steed" or "Iron Horse" used in connection with their beloved motorcycles. I have been around a few groups of bikers in a variety of settings during my days and, it just seems to me, that this lingo of the "Iron Horse" name thing is common. The connection with Cowboy and Indian lore and the motorcycle industry is almost undeniable, in my opinion. I have seen some unbelievably gorgeous motorcycles with tooled leather seats and saddlebags that scream REAL DEAL COWBOY to anyone that had any connection with those hero's of yesteryear. I get it, have lived it, love Willie Nelson songs about it and understand!! I LOVE that soul felt connection between the old west and the new old west that ties in with modern day motorcycle touring.

Tweeks, on the other hand, has always had a stubbornness about her. She can be a lop eared varmint when she wants to be. Not only that, but this old beat up Yamaha looks more at home when she has stuff hanging from her frame and maybe even a small trace of weeds having made their mark in the dirt while she is following an old mountain trail miles away from those true Iron Horses, I know I had briefly mentioned this earlier in my writings here but, I really have always been suspicious that someone at Yamaha instilled into her soul a touch of being closer to a Mountain Mule than an Iron Horse because she LOVES mountains too!

 

There were several ride opportunities being discussed while we were standing there in the parking lot watching VentureFar head out. It wasn't long after VF had disappeared from site that I heard someone say something about Mount Hood. My ears perked up and I glanced over at Tweeks when I heard this topic being discussed. I couldn't help but noticed a delightful swing in Tweeks new tail (back off whip). Tip and I had placed the new whip that VF had made for her on the brake lever where we had heard it was suppose to be located but the whip had slapped Tippy on the leg a couple times on the way into town and I had moved it rearward onto Tweeks rump. This location instantly thrilled Tweeks cause she had always wanted a tail. Tip liked it, TWEEKS LOVED IT and I thought it was simply GORGEOUS no matter where it hung!!

Tweeks new tail swung in the breeze like the real tail on one of her mule relatives while swatting gathering flies on a hot Montana afternoon. The difference being that her mule relative would probably have been swatting out of misery while Tweeks was flipping her tail out of shear joy. The ride captain for the Mt. Hood tour, @LoneEagle, had mustered a group of several Venture West riders that were following him out of the Cousins parking lot. Tip and I had managed to get our jackets on and climb onto Tweeks back and fortunately found a spot at the end of the line - Tweeks was in her glory!!

 

I was amazed at how well behaved the old bike was being while following Lone Eagle's gorgeous Harley up to Mt Hood. If there is one thing that I have learned from years of hanging around with that Yamaha and her mule like disposition its that the ornery side of her can come to the surface pretty quickly. If she is asked to follow any motorcycle that speaks the "potato potato potato" language, you best be on your toes. Under normal circumstances, even when burdened down with all of her gear and two riders on her back, at the first sign of a Potato popper in front of her, she will cop an attitude and not regain her general happiness until her tail light is winking at the Potato popper now located behind her. In all fairness to Tweeks mule ancestry, some of this attitude may be partially my fault. A few years ago I had parked Tweeks on Main Street in a little cow town called Wall Drug out in South Dakota. It was rally time out there and she was surrounded by hordes of those Potato machines. Some of those noisy exhausted V-Twins can be kinda mean, especially the custom steeds that are a little spoiled and never have to carry anything on their backsides, and I think Tweeks might have gotten picked on while sitting there with our camping gear sticking out into the roadway and her water jug blocking the paths of bikers with big patches on their backs.

 

 

 

Lone Eagle and his Harley did a splendid job of leading us all up to the Historic Lodge/Motel area up on top of the unforgettable Mt. Hood. The roadway that Mr. Eagle was carving into had been so amply provided with natural beauty that it was difficult to keep ones eye on the pavement. Huge Douglas fir trees tossed their sweet cologne into the warm Oregon breeze while a fast paced clear mountain stream chased down the edge of the roadway being occasionally interrupted by small water falls. If that wasn't enough to distract even the most deeply focused motorcyclist, the snow capped royal crown on top of Mt Hood started peeking around corners at us as if to encourage us to not give up on our heavenly ascension.

 

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Having arrived safely into the heart of Mt. Hood, we stood in her parking area - each of us taking in the sheer elegance of the lovely lady that stood before us. We chatted there for a while, reaffirmed some introductions (I am terrible with names) and took some pictures. Now by memory, I am going to see if can accurately list the riders who joined Lone Eagle on that outstanding ride up to greet Mt Hood. Of course, @LoneEagle was there, my Loose Moose Camping partners - @bikerjohn and @CMCOFFEY were there, @Oldseadog, @kevin-vic-b.c. was present, @Condor was there and Tip and I! All members of VentureRider.org and all having a blast spending time doing what we do! I was able to get enough of the groups attention for a split second so we could have a together - "VentureRider.org ROCKS" cheer!

 

our host and ride captain, LONE EAGLE

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KEVIN-VIC-B.C.

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CMCOFFEY AND EXODUS

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OLDSEADOG

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BIKERJOHN, ONE OF OUR TEXAS HERO'S!!

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CONDOR!!!!!

 

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Edited by cowpuc
I had Oldseadog and Kevin-vic-b.c. all mixed up, thanks Kev for str8ing me out!!
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Lone Eagle then led our group up the mountain a little farther so we could get a taste of the historic buildings that sat at a higher altitude. It was amazing to see Snow-Skiers playing with their waxed up ski's in the snow cap that made up the crown on Mt. Hoods head. Being a fairly warm day, it was an interesting sight to see people snow skiing down to the roadway where we had just parked our motorcycles. Condor walked with Tip and I up to the Lodge and, while we were hiking, was willing to share his perspective of some of the in's and out's of snow skiing, an art form that neither Tip or I had ever gotten involved in.

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Edited by cowpuc
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Standing on the deck area of the old Lodge up on Mt Hood and taking in the mountain views from that deck can be described as nothing short of spectacular. Its really hard to imagine how much time and effort had to go into developing a place like this. While it was possible for me to somewhat imagine the process during this particular part of the tourist season on Mt Hood, a chat with an employee of the area revealed that 80 FEET of snow fall up on Mt Hood is not uncommon - I still can't imagine building something that could withstand that kind of extreme weather.. While standing on the deck talking, I made a short video of this location. During that video I made a comment about the beauty of the historic area, Lone Eagle heard me say "historic" and instantly said "don't point that thing at me and say historic"!! I had just met this loveable person and was already starting to really like him!!

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