Issue link: https://read.dmtmag.com/i/787665
52 nMarch 2017n www.thunderpress.net THUNDER PRESS by Shannon Parker Last year I spent half the year dealing with unforeseen health prob- lems that put a signifi cant damper on my riding time. Normally, when I can escape my cubie job, I am gone from sunup to sundown soaking in as many miles as Glen, my trusty Street Glide, can handle—he's quite the workhorse. Thankfully, in August I got a call that I needed to do some work in Idaho and the weather report promised to be perfect T-shirt-only kind of tempera- tures. I knew that Glen and I needed to secure maximum fresh air, making the most of our limited riding time by making our work trip into something more, something fun and rejuvenating. We blew down I-84 heading east along the Gorge under ideal wind-free condi- tions. Up over the Blue Mountains we went heading towards Idaho to cover that work obligation. Taking advantage of the long summer day, I decided to leave town, heading towards Ontario, Oregon, where I found myself quickly slipping into the quiet backcountry of Oregon. I felt myself following the steps of our forefathers and proba- bly a few dinosaurs too, wondering what adventures awaited us along our journey through time along the scenic Highway 26. I am fi rst to admit that I like a plan when I go riding. Not so much that I need to have every mile charted out but I do like to know where gas sta- tions are, and yes, I like to have a hotel reservation secured. However, this trip was more off the cuff. My work fi nished early so I just hustled onto the highway, no plans, no gas stations staked out. Just Glen, that trusty gross two-year-old granola bar I always have stocked in the bottom of my saddle- bag and a strong desire to blow the cobwebs out of my brain. I needed wind—a lot of wind. I have never been to this part of Oregon but I knew that all roads eventually would lead one to the mecca known as Portland, my hometown, so no road choice would be a bad one. Gassing up in Ontario, I threw caution to the wind, decided not take the well-traveled Highway 20 into Burns, and instead, took that right turn onto Highway 26 that promised me a "town" in 80 miles. Highway 26 is a narrow two-lane road that quickly gives way to large farms and very few people. Rarely did I share the road with another vehicle. As the miles slipped by towns that were promised by small road signs failed to offer much more than a Grange Hall or boarded-up gas station that probably hadn't had a customer since the 1970s. It was a perfect road for those seeking untouched landscape and a bit of solitude. Just the hum of my bike kept me company and I soaked in the gold-colored wheat fi elds saturating the landscape as far as the eye could see. Eventually gold gave way to rich greens as we began to climb into the Malheur National Forest. Thick forests offer great oppor- TOURING EASTERN OREGON Journeying through time on scenic byways Roaming the land of our ancestors See "Eastern Oregon," page 58, column 1 Ancient and massive, the fossil bed formations dwarf man's modern machine