Oregon - July 21

I could tell the fog had rolled over Petaluma last night by the chill in the air when I opened my eyes this morning. There are some times, when you’re camping, that you wish you were in a cozy, warm motel room - where the bathroom isn’t an entire vacation away. I decided to cocoon myself in my sleeping bag long enough to let the sun work its magic on the California fog and for the coffee to be ready at the camp store.

 The sun did its job by 7 and I was packing for the ride north – coffee in hand. First stop was gas and air, both front and rear tires were down by 2psi (I didn’t realize air cost a buck a shot these days). Then it was on to the 101 south to pick up highway 37 then 1-80 to the 505 and to I-5 north all the way to Oregon.

Shasta Mountain

Interstate 5 is a well maintained highway that rips right up the valley directly north with few curves until near the Oregon border. In places the highway median is abloom with philodendrons that reminded me of the lilacs in Ontario in the spring. I stopped as many times riding up the valley to remove layers as I did to add layers entering California from the east. The hills of northern California reminded me of the hills of Nevada in their shape and texture but these hills seemed friendlier, more inhabitable and were covered with ranches, cattle, forests and life. Nearing the Oregon border snow covered Shasta Mountain towered over the highway - Lake Shasta, an unforgettable vista with its shore of iron red rocks bleeding into the aqua blue water.

It’s time for an oil change so I’ve stopped in Medford in hopes of finding someone who can Yamalube.