(Photos by Meri and Eric Yarborough)

Many roads lead to Redmond, Oregon, but they are not equal. For me, Oregon's Highway 97 and I-5 are roads to avoid. Both are heavily traveled and peppered with radar guns, in hopes that you will contribute to Oregon's state budget as you blow through. Highway 97 is long, straight and boring with long lines of 18 wheelers daring you to pass and break the highway's low 55 MPH speed limit.

The other Oregon is blessed with thousands of miles of well maintained back roads that are a siren's call to anyone on two wheels. Filled with twisties, these back roads flow alongside rivers that slowly fade away as the roads climb up mountain passes, only to reappear with a new name and direction when the road drops down on the other side. 

In 2002 my wife and I moved from California's Napa Valley to Southern Oregon's Rogue Valley, where I purchased a K1200LT and began to explore the miles and miles of paved forest service roads that crisscross this beautiful state. I would ride for hours through jaw-dropping scenery, seldom seeing another person or vehicle. In time the big LT and I morphed into one beast, always seeking the next Nirvana. I would encounter groups of fellow riders strung out in a long line, like army ants following a pheromone trail. This, I thought, could never be me, as they seemed too organized and too determined as they rode along in unison. I enjoyed the freedom of riding solo, making impulsive stops or route changes on a whim.

This past spring as the hours of daylight began to lengthen, there stirred deep within me a primeval calling to become part of something larger than just the LT and myself. I felt like a lemming being called to the Cliff, overlooking a vast sea. I needed to seek others who, like me, shared a love of motion on two wheels and just being out there. My moment of epiphany came with my monthly newsletter from the Oregon BMW Riders Association.  I decided that I would attend my first BMW rally and rub shoulders with the gathering. Oregon's annual rally is the Chief Joseph Rally held in the little cow town of John Day, deep in the heart of Eastern Oregon's stunning geologic wonderland.  What better way to get to John Day than to take the long route up the Western Cascades to the Colombia River and then down through the High Desert, with its sprinkling of cow towns that remind me of our western heritage.

For this trip I decided to invite my wife Meri and some friends from California, Barry and Lani Robertson, astride their Kawasaki Vulcan 1600, to share the ride to John Day with me. 

The West Cascades Scenic Byway is one of my favorite routes to take in the summer heat.  Starting in the village of Westfir, this 215 mile ride winds its way through cool green forests as it follows seven different rivers and climbs several mountain passes, before reaching Estacada on the outskirts of Portland.

Because we live in the Rogue Valley, three hours south of Westfir, we decided to make the Westfir Lodge B&B our first night's stopover.  Westfir, an old sawmill company town, lies a few miles north of Hwy 58 and the town of Oakridge, located in the middle of the Willamette National Forest.  The B&B resides in the building that once housed the Mill's offices.  Years ago over several hundred mill workers would trudge across the covered 180-foot wooden bridge to work in the mill.  Today the Office Bridge is Oregon's longest covered bridge.  In contrast, the town of Oakridge is more active with several motels, restaurants and a Chevron station.  (I can recommend Lee's Gourmet Garden Chinese restaurant located on Hwy 58 in Oakridge.)

Crater Lake National Park is a worthy detour to take on the route to Westfir.  Even if you enter Oregon via Hwy 97, you can easily include Crater Lake in your itinerary by taking Hwy 140 at Klamath Falls and then Hwy 62 at Fort Klamath.   The nice thing about adding Crater Lake to your trip is that you don't need to retrace your route, as the north exit of the park will put you back on track to Hwy 58 and Westfir. 

After Crater Lake, a short run on Hwy 97 is required to reach the Hwy 58 turnoff.  Highway 58 is also the end point for the Cascade Lakes Scenic Byway, which connects the mountains, lakes and Mt. Bachelor with Bend and Redmond.  A few miles after climbing Willamette Pass, look for the turnoff to the beautiful Salt Creek waterfall on your left.  The falls are located just off the highway and are well worth the stop.  If you enter a tunnel, you have just passed the turnoff to the falls.

If you let Ken, the innkeeper at the Westfir B&B, know what you are riding, he will move his car and let you put your bike in the garage for the night.

After an elegant breakfast and a few photos, we mount up and start the first leg of our Western Cascades ride.  Forest Service Road 19, named the Aufderheide National Forest Scenic Byway, follows the North Fork of the Willamette River, as the deserted road works its way through a dense forest of mixed evergreens and deciduous trees. 

When the road enters "Box Canyon," it makes a sharp turn and then wiggles its way up Chucksney Mountain past several vacant campsites complete with fire pits, tables and fresh water.  Once over the break, the Aufderheide begins to descend alongside what is now the South Fork of the McKenzie River.  What starts out as a trickle soon develops into a full blown trout stream, rushing its way down the mountain until the South Fork empties into Cougar Lake.  Following the west side of the lake, we pass two hot pools and run into our first sign of vehicles and people.  We are only 19 miles from well-traveled Hwy 126, a route that climbs the McKenzie Pass and on to the old west town of Sisters, before dropping into Redmond.

We take a break in the town of McKenzie Bridge as the Vulcan fills up, before returning to the scenic Hwy 126.  There are three beautiful waterfalls on this stretch of highway: Tamolitch Falls, Koosah Falls and, my favorite, Sahalie Falls.  All three lie just off the north side of the highway.  After visiting Sahalie Falls where the McKenzie River plunges 100 feet into a grotto of ferns, we turn off at Clear Lake, one of America's clearest lakes, to view the underwater forest that was covered 3000 years ago when the lake was formed by a lava flow that dammed the river.  While the Robertsons order lunch, Meri and I rent an aluminum boat and row out into the lake to take some photos of the forest.  As luck would have it, the day is too windy to get a clear view of the 3000 year old trees.  At least I get a chance to loosen up my shoulders and back after hours of hanging onto the K1200LT that I named Jiano.  After a brief snack we head out again to the Hwy 20 turnoff to follow the North Santiam River to Idanha and Detroit Lake, our next overnight stop.

When I solo this route I press on, all the way to Estacada.  This is the first time I actually stop overnight in the lakeside village of Detroit, and I am glad we take the time to explore the area.  The lake is surrounded by forests and mountains that create a very peaceful atmosphere.  While Meri and I share a beer at a little pub overlooking the marina, while Barry and Lani explore the village.  We meet at a little shack named Sammy's for one of the best pizzas I have ever eaten. 

The next morning we meet for breakfast at the popular Cedars Restaurant, decorated with huge saw blades hand painted by a local retired logger.  After breakfast we load up and head out to follow the Breitenbush River and Hwy 46 as it skirts Bald Butte.  Highway 46 is another beautiful forest road without another vehicle to be seen. 

A few miles outside of Detroit we pass the mysterious Breitenbush Hot Springs Spa with its aging lodge, wood cabins, and hot pools filled with naked bodies, hidden in the thick forest.  Each time I pass this way I promise myself that I will return and trade my Joe Rocket gear for mellow tie-dye and maybe take a few yoga classes or drumming lessons.  Namaste!

As we climb higher we kiss the Breitenbush River goodbye, only to join up with the Clackamas River on our descent toward Estacada.  The Clackamas is an interesting river.  This snow-fed stream flowing out of the Cascades, surrounded by deep forest, surprised me years ago on my first ride along its banks.  After hours of riding in solitude, I was flying along minding the curves, when suddenly I hit a small roadside campground and saw a group of people sitting in a circle mid-steam in a cloud of steam.  It wasn't until I saw the next group a few miles later that I realized hot springs must bubble up in the middle of the fast-flowing river.

We leave the Clackmas River at the town of Estacada and cross over to the village of Sandy, to follow the Sandy River up the slopes of Mt. Hood.  Lani and Meri get into a camera duel, snapping pictures as we ride the four lane Mt. Hood Highway.  At the town of Zigzag the Sandy River makes a hard left turn up the mountain, leaving us to continue straight and pick up the smaller Zigzag River.

Shortly after the Timberline turnoff, Hwy 26 makes a turn down the mountain towards Warm Springs and Redmond.  Since we are headed north to the Columbia River town of Hood River, we break left onto Hwy 35 and the descent into the bountiful orchards of the Hood River Valley.  As we speed down the bumpy highway, we can see the infamous snow-capped Mt. St. Helens volcano across the wide Columbia River in the state of Washington.  She only flashes her good side in the afternoon sun, as she shyly hides her blown-out northern slopes from our view.

The town of Hood River offers a welcome respite from the hot sun and hours of riding.  A vibrant sports town of fly fishermen, windsurfers, bicyclists and hikers, Hood River is home to some of Oregon's finest micro breweries.  We spend a few hours walking the town before settling down to a cold beer, which delays our departure for our hotel in The Dalles. By the time we are ready to leave, the temperatures are in the triple digits and the streets are full of commuter traffic, trying to head out of town.

Leaving Hood River turns into a nightmare.  We encounter a traffic jam, where the vehicles attempting to enter the freeway merge with a long line of backed up traffic trying to exit the freeway via the Hwy 35 on ramp.  For 45 minutes I try to keep the top-heavy LT upright on a steeply banked on ramp, as cars entering the freeway have near misses with semis and cars trying to exit onto the Hwy 35 on ramp.  The air temperature gauge is reading 108 degrees.  The LT is overheating.  My legs are cramping.  I imagine I can smell the clutch frying, and I know that at any moment Meri is going to lean over and put us into a death roll, as she takes a photo or pulls up a sock.  At this moment I am missing those Oregon back roads more than ever.

The ride to The Dallas is anticlimactic, with us checking into our hotel and hiding in our air-conditioned room.  We await the arrival of the Robertsons who are taking the more scenic route along the bluffs, high above the freeway and the Columbia River.