Sunday morning and the day arrived with clear skies and the promise of more heat. After a shower the next adventure on the roster was breakfast. Our little Inn didn’t come equipped with a restaurant so we geared up, loaded up, checked out, and went looking for a restaurant.
That proved easier said than done, and breakfast became its own adventure.
We rode all the way down the hill and across the bridge only to discover that the two restaurants on the other side were closed. So back across the bridge, a brief exploration of the town, and a sense of wonder that homes and a school were built right up against massive rock walls. Back up the hill to run through town and see what else might be available. Nothing! Except Pepper Jacks. Not going there again. Part of me thought “How badly can they do breakfast?” The other part of me didn’t want to find out.
Electric City was only one mile away, so we tried that. We went all the way through town and the only thing we passed was the local bar & grill. So at the other end of town we stopped and turned around. Kirk suggested the bar & grill, I hadn’t thought it was open since there hadn’t been any cars out front, and it never occurred to me that a business with “bar” in the title would be open before noon. I was wrong on both counts. There were no cars out front because the front area was “motorcycle only” parking (very civilized), and it was in fact open for breakfast. So in we went and were welcomed warmly by the locals.
We took a table at the window, and one of the two women running the place asked us if we wanted coffee. Absolutely! The stuff we’d made in our hotel room was awful and neither one of us can stand powdered coffee whitener. She asked if we took anything and I replied “Yes please, cream and sugar.” She poured us each a cup of pale brown water, and brought over a jar of sugar, a jar of coffee whitener, and proudly placed a bowl of Coffee Mate French Vanilla flavoured non-dairy creamer. (Thanks, but I don’t generally want to add vegetable oil, corn syrup, and chemical flavouring to my coffee). Before she walked away I asked if she had any milk. Second choice for coffee, but it beat what I had been presented with. She turned and said all she had was half-and-half. (Inner voice – “Well what the heck do you think cream is?!?!”) “That would be just great, thank you!”
She returned with a glass of cream and announced that since she didn’t drink coffee she didn’t know how much we would like. THe fact that she wasn’t a coffee drinker was patently clear since the coffee was about the strength and opacity of weak tea. I didn’t really need sugar at all. The fresh pot wasn’t any improvement. Is there anything more disappointing than a weak cup of coffee?
Next up – our food order. We each asked for bacon and eggs with brown toast. She asked how we would like our eggs done and I timidly asked if poached was a possibility. She replied that she could microwave them for me – I said “Over-easy will be fine, thank you.” (I had a vision of receiving two rubber balls). When breakfast arrived, the eggs were perfect, the bacon was fabulous, the toast was…well..toast, and the hash browns were pretty good. She then asked if we would like ketchup or HP Sauce for our hash browns. We each declined. Apparently that was an odd answer because she checked again, twice, and when we still declined, she shook her head and declared that she couldn’t ever eat hash browns without ketchup. She then asked if we would like jam for our toast, I paused, then thought better of pushing my luck and asking for peanut butter, jam would be fine.
But the adventure wasn’t quite over yet. We paid our bill, and then I made a trip to the washroom. Quite the artwork. On the wall was an old painting of a naked man standing spread legged, with his arms out stretched to each side. A woman, also naked, was doing a handstand, on his erect penis. OK, time to go. We thanked them for wonderful service and were on our way.
We headed West down Highway 155 and crossed through a short region of fields and farms. As we curved and dropped through a space between two rock faces we came tearing to a halt. In front of us was a rocky shoreline, across which was a fabulous butte rising above the water. The spot is called Devil’s Punchbowl and the butte is called Steamboat Rock. It was impressive and Kirk commented that this was going to be a very long ride judging by the scenery.
We finally rode away and continued along Banks Lake. The scenery was just jaw dropping. The walls of the coulee rose up above us, volcanic pillars encased in sediment, green in places with moss. Across the water, the walls of the coulee skyrocketed up hundreds of feet. Though we didn’t go in, there was a sign towards Dry Falls. Millions of years ago these long dry cliffs were the site of a waterfall ten times the size of Niagara Falls, emptying the flooding waters of Lake Missoula.
As we ascended up the other side of the coulee we came out onto the flats and rounded a corner into Coulee City where stopped for fuel after passing yet another dead deer, and a dead coyote.
Out of Coulee City we rose up a wall and could see the coulee stretching off onto the horizon, and then we dropped down into yet another jaw dropping coulee. This one was small by comparison, but still very impressive as the road dropped down to the bottom and then curved gently up the other side and then onto a landscape so flat and featureless it can’t be described. Miles of golden wheat fields, mostly cut or turned, stretched off in every direction. The road stretched off into the distance, and the only change in its direction for the next 20 or 30 miles were a couple of dog legs before it again stretched on as far as the eye could see.
We stopped on the side of the road where some large tractors were plowing the stubby wheat stalks remaining after harvest under. Clouds of dust wafted across the highway as they came close to the edge of the road. More large glacial erratics dotted the land and provided the only relief from the lawn of golden stubs. After we rode for some time we could see a plume of dust rising several hundred feet into the air in a smoke like plume, and it dawned on me tat with the severity of the wind we were being knocked around with, there was no way a plume of smoke, or dust, should be going straight upwards. Something was wrong with what I was seeing and it wasn’t registering until we came closer and I could see that the base of it was broad (hard to say how wide) and swirling in what appeared to be a leisurely churning path across the otherwise empty field. It was a dust tornado.
The road took us away from it and we rode along, straight as an arrow, and began to catch up to a short line of traffic in the distance. With not a lot to look at straight ahead, I was glancing left and right at. . . well . . . not much. I looked back and saw something crossing the road. Weasel? No, too big. Coyote? No, too small. Cat? No, not moving appropriately. This short legged, brown, rotund, waddling creature was about the last thing that would be on a list of what I’d expect to see crossing the road int eh middle of nowhere. . . a Dachshund!?!? WTF? As I processed the information I realized I should probably brake as the little creature crossed the broad stretch of asphalt with a purpose. I shook my head as I sped up and passed the line of traffic. I expected to see the rest of the animals from the animated film Open Season, what other reason for a Daxie to be all the way out here with the only home far up on the hill.
Shortly thereafter the road banked to the right and we both had another one of those “Wait, how do I corner again?” moments as the road ducked around a quick S-turn and passed through the tiny community of Douglas, complete with a fabulous looking General Store (closed unfortunately). Then back up the other side and back onto that arrow straight road. It’s crazy the way a flat landscape can suddenly drop down into a gully and put you into a community you didn’t see.
A quick stretch in a lovely little town called Waterville, and back on the road towards Leavenworth. As we came closer to the hills things became greener and we re-entered apple orchards with stacks and stacks of crates and the air felt a bit less desert-like. We had arrived at the outskirts of Wenatchee. We skirted the city and continued along Highway 2 through an area lush with green, made all the greener by the severe lack of colour we had experienced for the past hour.
Traffic clipped along at a good pace until we hit the outskirts of Leavenworth, where everything bogged down to a crawl. A few blocks of that and I darted down a side street that took us into the heart of the biggest mob of tourists we’d encountered anywhere yet, all wrapped up in a little town that looked like it belonged in the Alps. Leavenworth appears to be popular with riders judging by all the motorcycles, and the fact that yet again, we found motorcycle only parking while cars were circling hungrily for a patch of curb. We took our tail-bags with us and found a cafe/winery shop for lunch and a glass of wine. The woman who served us was so kind and agreed to store our bags in the office so we could walk around for an hour to explore the town. A two man band featuring an accordion was playing in the park, and it provided just the most appropriate audio background for the town. The shops ranged from hippie chic to artsy fartsy, to tacky tourist, and an artists market was set up in the park. We perused the wonderful artists wares – everything ranging from photographs to handmade jewellery. I bought a lovely silver and garnet pendant. Another booth featured metal-wares, and a rack of rider’s bells, the woman looked at us in our gear and directed our attention to them. They were pretty little bells, but I also find them a bit tacky on a motorcycle. I think the idea behind them is a lovely sentiment, but no thanks, I like bells chiming in the wind outside, but I wouldn’t want one on my bike, I’m not into superstitions either.
As we picked up our gear and returned to the bikes, a fellow asked if we were leaving and when we said yes, he rushed across the street to get his bike to take our spot. He said he was concerned about being parked where he was since it didn’t indicate that it was a legal parking spot. Considering all the bikes parked everywhere illegally, we thought it odd, until we discovered he was also from BC. Then another BC bike stopped and asked us for directions to Wenatchee, Kirk obliged. Birds of a feather.
The ride to Gold bar was high speed compared to what we had become used to. The highway was pretty, but the posted speed was higher and the traffic was aggressive. We pulled off at a State fish hatchery and pulled out the map to look for a side road. We stopped on the main road, waiting for a light, and Kirk had a moment of disagreement with his visor. By the time he got it unlocked and open it was time to move forward. At the next stop Kirk put his bike into neutral and leaned back and looked around, just as the light went green, and almost got left behind. But we found a fabulous secondary route, and after a brief stop to check that Kirk was OK, and to suggest that he obviously needed a beer. The winding country road took us through forested areas and along farmland and took us all the way into Monroe.
We stopped at a Starbucks for a refreshing drink and asked for directions to the hotel, and then missed it completely. We took a turn into what seemed to be a likely spot, and somehow ended up behind it, but unable to get to it. Eventually we were successful but sadly discovered that the hot tub had closed last weekend for the season. Oh well, today wasn’t as hard a ride and we weren’t in as bad condition as the previous night. And the bed was softer than the last place.
We looked online for a restaurant that wasn’t McDonald’s, Burger King, or Arby’s, and found a wonderful place that had been opened a year ago by an Executive chef from Seattle.
As we walked to the restaurant we giggled over a sign advertising an event at a feed and tack shop – Small animal swap. How does that work? I’ll trade you two gerbils and a hamster for a chinchilla?
Dinner at Adam’s was simply fabulous!!! Fresh salmon with quinoa and a beet salad with a bottle of Columbia Valley Gewürztraminer, and we followed it up with chocolate truffles.
And thus ended day 2.
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