Sorry I haven't written in a while. I spent the last four days riding and camping with Ian. Since it was just the two of us it didn't seem polite to carve a couple hours out each day to process photos and write. Riding with Ian is always good. It's been far far too long.

So now I'm in Victoria, BC, Canada sitting downstairs with my laptop. My cellphone is roaming so I have no data service. From here until I get into Alaska it looks like I'm only going to be able to do updates sporadically as I find access to WIFI hotspots, if any.

I don't know if I should do highlights or try to describe what happened. This will probably get to be pretty long. My apologies in advance. I'll have to figure out some kind of prize for those that actually make it all the way to the end.

Thursday June 24th to Farragut State Park in Idaho

On Thursday, I left Butte, Montana late and had to make up some time so I just did miles without stopping. The miles were good, the weather was perfect. Montana continued on as it had been with lush green fields bordered by steep snow covered mountains.

Eventually, I came upon Idaho.

What struck me immediately was how tree covered northern Idaho is. As has been the case throughout this trip, photos just do not capture the beauty of the landscape. I realized that since I left Kansas I have actually been doing what I said I would, namely staying on secondary roads. As a result I had come up from Colorado through a landscape that was constantly beautiful. The further north I roamed the greener it got.

Another thing that struck me about Idaho, Montana, Wyoming and Colorado is the number of organ donors riding around on Harleys.

If you need an organ transplant I guess the West has a rich supply. Bikes out here were overwhelmingly Harleys. The further North I got the higher the Harley density. No sport bikes. No sport tourers. No touring bikes. Just Harleys ... and me.

I had made really good time. Although I90 is an interstate, it's a very pretty winding high speed road. The speed limit is 75mph pretty much everywhere and in some places it's a challenge to keep up that speed. I was going at a good clip when I came across two BMW's, a late model R1200RT, the same bike that Phil who we met in Deals' Gap rides, and a K1200S. These guys were moving. I kept up with them for a while getting some of the hardest lean angles I've ever achieved on an interstate. Some of these corners were pretty sharp but the pavement was good and visibility was excellent. Eventually they started cutting between cars in a way I wasn't comfortable with so I fell back.

I took the exit towards the park which they had also taken. At the light, I noticed their plates. Alberta. Ok, that makes sense. Just like in Deal's Gap. Crazy Canadians. They always seem to ride the fastest. I don't know why.

I was pretty tired and had missed that I had crossed a time zone so I was hours early. I started looking for a Starbucks. My GPS said there were at least 6 of them around.

She lies to me. I don't know why she lies to me. I try to be good to her. I don't ever ask her to do much. I keep her plugged in. But there are times, you know, when a man has needs and there should be give and take in any relationship And I ask "Baby, it's been so long, you know how I get cranky and don't feel right if I go without for too long." So she says she knows just a place where she can take me ... and I believe her like I have so many times before. So off I go, hopeful with anticipation and I do exactly what she says. "Turn right in 200 yards", she states.

There is nothing there.

"Sucker", I can just hear her say.

"Oh, baby, please!", I plead.

"ok, ok, this time I really mean it", she says.

I follow her instructions to the letter, being kind.

An abandoned building.

And so it went for the NEXT HOUR as I was mislead and mislead. She lies and she lies and I don't know why.

Eventually I had had enough. There's only so much a man can take, no? So I asked a nice lady who was walking into a grocery "where's the nearest Starbucks?". "Just down that street", she replied. And she was telling the truth.

I checked my errant GPS and sure enough, that Starbucks I was sipping my coffee at was nowhere to be found.

"She lies but I keep wanting to believe her", I mused. Bad relationships are like that. You've invested so much that you want to believe it'll get better. You just so desperately want to believe.

"I should know better by now", I thought.

As I sat in the Starbucks considering my bad psychologically abusive relationship with this piece of electronics, someone asked me where I had come from. The conversation went the same way it usually has on this trip. "Maryland", I replied. "Wow, that's really far", she exclaimed. "It's only about a quarter as far as I'm gonna go ...". And so forth. A guy, who I later found out was named Tom, overheard and asked me a few questions. We got to talking. He had just come back across country to move back West.

He was in technology sales for a storage solution company. He had worked at Microsoft and from talking to him really knew his stuff. We got into a long and very interesting conversation comparing notes about building businesses, typical pitfalls that companies get into such as the "making too much money can kill you" problem. And so forth. He's someone I would like to talk to again. I get the impression I can learn alot from him. I sincerely hope to hear from him again.

When someone in sales, marketing, business development or entrepreneurship speaks I listen very intently and try to learn all I can. For someone who develops software systems for a living, this is an unusual leaning. Technology people typically can't stand the sales and marketing folks. I have made a career about of being different in this regard.

I completely lost track of time.

"SHIT!". Off I went convinced that I still had enough time. Ian said he'd be there at 6. It was 6:20. "I bet he isn't there yet", I thought. It took longer than expected but I finally arrived at the park.

I talked to the nice woman at the registration check. "Oh, he's been here over an hour.". Doh!

I rode around and rolled up to the campsite just as Ian was about to leave to go look for me. It was 6:45. "You need less flakey friends". People who know me know I am never late. I felt really bad.

But it was really good to see Ian again. It's been some years since we had ridden together.

And much much longer since his bike and mine have stood side by side.

We chatted for a while, got some firewood and started to build a fire. Two master firemakers. I decided to try to use a magnesium spark type firestarter just for kicks. He filmed while I attempted to start the fire "Survivorman" style. (I've gotten hooked on that show.)

So we carefully collected some tinder and even used crushed up peanut shells to create a little tinder basket in which to start the flame. I scraped magnesium shavings into it and then hit the spark stick to ignite it. After about 40 minutes as per the instructions we doused the thing in white gas and threw a lit stick into it. Whoosh!

Worked like a champ. Les Stroud would be proud. :)

(But even then the wood was so thoroughly soaked that it took forever to build a base of hot coals. We futzed with it for over an hour to get a good flame.) "It isn't camping without a fire", I said.

(I took a break to go scrounge up something to eat. Tanya's mom has invited us over for dinner tonight. Tanya showed me how to make an omelette and then proceeded to make me one along with a wonderful salad. We sat and talked for over and hour ... she's got a lot of work to do and I feel bad that I lost track of time and kept her away from it. :( I'm not getting much done myself either. Slow lazy day. )

Friday June 25th - Spokane Detour

In all the years that I've been travelling with Ian, he is always the one who wakes me up. Now granted, he had only gotten three hours of sleep the night before and ridden 470 some odd miles to meet up with me (and I had arrived late).

So it came to pass most improbably that I was up before 8AM and well before Ian. I hadn't slept all that well which would come back to haunt me. (foreshadowing) With kindness and forethought, Ian had bought a half dozen eggs. We pulled out my camp stove and he went to work making breakfast.

The campsite was not far from a huge lake. There was a good walking trail so, being Ian and it being a quintessential Ian thing to do, he suggested we go for a walk. It was a beautiful path.

Not so much the beasts that were walking on it.

The path we were following was over a mile long and it was a bit hot. "Ian, please remind me to change into jeans the next time we do this", I asked. I was nearly overheating.

We found a small path that lead down along the shore which we followed. As is the case with so many lakes you see up in the NorthWest, this lake was surrounded be steep mountains covered in trees.

Now I am always hearing from women who know Ian how much they like him. You know who you are. So with you in mind, I tried to take some "Ian in his natural environment shots". I do hope you appreciate the effort. The Ian is a timid yet imposing creature difficult to capture in photos.

We followed the path for a while, Ian insisting on taking photos of me from time to time. In most of our trips there are hardly any photos of me.

Another aspect of any trip with Ian is that he notices all kinds of critters you would never notice on your own. He's always been the kind of guy that's very familiar with all kinds of plants and animals and can talk about them all intelligently. He pointed out a bald eagle, another kind of eagle, neither of which I was able to get a photo of. As we were walking along minding our own business he just stopped and said "Hey, look at that".

A dung beetle pushing some dung with another dung beetle clinging to the end. Ian notices these kinds of things. I thought dung beetles only existed on the History Channel.

Not the most appetizing photo. Sorry.

As we walked back up from the lake we came across this ancient structure which turned out to be some kind of outdoor fireplace with a semicircle seating area. It was largely overgrown and looked like something out of Tolkien.

We made it back to the campsite when he pointed out that we were being followed. As Ian once said years ago, "Yermo, chipmunks are typically found outdoors". This little bugger did not want his photo taken, but I managed to get one in the end.

We packed up camp. I'm usually not very slow, but do you ever have one of those days where you just can't get going? It seemed like Ian was always waiting for me, not the other way around. Usually we get everything that we need to at the same pace but today and the following days I was really holding up the show. I started to feel a bit self conscious about it to the point where I started feeling like I had to rush just so I wouldn't slow things down too much.

I got my act together and got on my bike and we were underway.

Our intent was to try to make it to the North Cascades in Washington State and find a campground.

The night before Ian had mentioned that he was getting a strange smell from his bike, a hydrogen sulfide rotten egg smell. I mentioned that we had noticed the same thing on Duncan's bike but had not been able to figure out what it was. I investigated but wasn't able to find anything. We agreed we'd keep an eye on it.

We rode for some time and stopped on the side of the road. Ian reported that the smell had come back at which point he noticed that fluid was dripping out of the battery overflow. He pulled off his gear, seat and lifted the gas tank. The water level in the battery was exceedingly low.

There was no way we could trust the bike with a battery in that condition. We decided to ride to the nearest town to see if we could get some distilled water to add to the battery. While Ian was packing his bike a rider stopped to ask if we were ok, which happens when you're stopped. I've stopped for countless riders myself.

On the way to the little town we stopped to take a photo. Since I was feeling self conscious about being in "go slow mode" I wasn't stopping to take any photos for the blog, so in this one spot we stopped and used the telescoping arm to snap of a photo.

This was probably ill advised since it wasn't clear the bike would start again but it did.

We continued on to the town of Ion where I suggested we head to a grocery store. While I went in to get some distilled water Ian pulled out the battery and set it on the ground. It was bone dry and super near-melting hot. It was going to be some time before we could add any water to it, so we hung out in the parking lot. A woman who was selling puppies showed up. One of them took an immediate liking to Ian.

Another woman showed up around the same time on a quad asking if we needed any help. At this point we had already decided the battery could no longer be trusted and needed to be replaced but it was an odd size that is not stocked in most parts stores. Anyways, the local parts store had already closed.

We mentioned this to her. She said she knew the parts guy and would track him down for us. That was amazingly nice. After quite a while she drove past in her car saying she was going to meet him. Shortly after that a woman walks out from the grocery and said to us we had a call from the parts store. Ian went in and verified the size of the battery and make of the bike. He came out and I said, "You know, I have a feeling she's going to come back with battery in hand". "No way", he said.

A few minutes later the woman returned battery in hand. Did I call it or what? She was very nice and kept saying "we know how to help people around here, it's what we do". Unfortunately, the battery was just one size too large and didn't fit. A guy from the parts store showed up on a quad. We thanked them both when the parts guys said "Oh, I just wanted to see the bikes". We discussed some options. They could order the correct battery for us but it wouldn't arrive until Tuesday.

I had reception so I used google maps to see if I could find a Ducati dealer anywhere closeby. All the shops were down in Spokane. There was some concern that we might not make it and could get stranded somewhere in the No Mans Land between Ione and Spokane, but we decided to risk it.

Off we went and rode pretty much non stop to spokane to a dealership that said they had the battery in stock. It was already late and they were closed so we explored close by hotel options the thought being that we would need to get there very early. Unfortunately, we had arrived in Spokane during "Hoop Fest", some kind of three on three shut down the streets and play street hoops fest, so all hotel rooms were booked. I asked about the hotel next door and the clerk said "It's pretty sketchy. I wouldn't stay there".

So we went there. The room was cheap but man it looked sketchy. On top of that it was a smoking room. The section of the hotel across from the room was condemned and boarded up. We prepared for the worst.

But frankly it wasn't too bad. The room was clean and there weren't any bugs. I've definitely stayed in much worse.

Rolling over to the room Ian noticed something strange about my rear tire. I swear I had checked it earlier and while it looked worn it did not look dangerous. I guess during the days ride the tire finally wore out. Cords were showing. Doh! I have /never/ ridden a tire long enough to have cords show through. As I mentioned in na previous post, I typically replace tires at the half way point.

I checked my records and it looks like I had misjudged the mileage on the tires by 1000 miles. I can typically get 6000 miles out of a set of tires. Usually I replace them at 4000. I figured I could go 7000 before getting into trouble. Unfortunately, I had more than 8000 on these tires. Not 7000. Oops.

So now we were going to be pressed for time. Not only did we have to get a battery but we would have to find tires for my bike. There's no way I could go any distance on these tires. I was feeling more self conscious.

It had been a long day. We went over to the Denny's, had something to eat. I guess between not sleeping, all that walking in the heat, all the hanging out in the parking lot in the heat combined with all the riding.

I was sitting on the bed, Ian was getting the thermarest pad ready (I forgot to mention the only room available had a single king sized bed and since Ian has this fancy new luxury thermarest pad it made sense for him to get the flooor). He heard me say "You know, I think I'm going to pass out" and I was out. Man was I crazy tired exhausted.

A few seconds later he evilly snapped this shot and threatened later to post it.

I didn't move for like four hours.

June 26th - Kalee, Tires and Tank Bags

We got up early because we had to grab breakfast and get to the stop early. Once again I was up before 8 and before Ian. Clearly this is a sign of the end time.

We had breakfast at Dennys. I once again had an omelette. I hate to think of why my blood test numbers are going to look like after this trip. We needed tires. We needed a battery.

I called the shop where we were going to get the battery. As had been the case the day before I was on hold for ages. Eventually someoone in service answered and said they probably couldn't fit me in. Then the guy said, well call parts and see if they even have the tires in stock. So I got transferred and waited on hold for ages. They claimed to be a BMW dealer but were not familiar with my bike. Ok, that's not good. It turns out they only had tires for Japanese bikes in stock. I asked the guy if there was another shop somewhere that might have them. He suggested Ed's Snowmobile and Motorcycle and gave me the number.

So I called over there and a nice woman answered the phone on the third ring. They didn't have the Metzeler tires in stock that I usually run, but being proactive, she checked other brands and saw that she had Michelins in stock that would fit.

"You rock".

A guy sitting behind Ian at this point started talking to him and said the dealer we were going to get the battery from sucked. Ian told me to ask the woman whether they had his battery in stock.

"Yes, we do, but we're booked solid and close at 12. I've checked with the service manager and we can fit you in if you get here as soon as you can". We wolfed down breakfast and rode the 10 miles there.

The woman at the parts counter was Kalee. The service guy was Cody. They really hooked us up. The bike was in the shop getting tires put on and the battery was on the charge.

Ian and I sat at Starbucks and considered routes from here. We would need to make some mileage the next day if we were going to get close enough to the Ferry to make the 1PM ferryride on Saturday.

The battery was charged and the new tires were on. The old tires were just shot beyond belief. "Yea, you were in danger of a blowout", Cody said.

Oh not good.

I've ridden with nothing but Metzeler tires for years. The bike had originally come with some form of Michelin sport touring tires which I really didn't like. I wasn't entirely happy with the idea of switching brands but beggars can't be choosers.

As I pulled the bike around front the handlebar was stopped at an inconvenient point by the tank bag yet again and I nearly dropped the bike in the parking lot. Ok. I'm done.

They had a selection of Tourmaster Cortech tank bags. I started going through them but unfortunately my gastank is aluminum so none of the magnetic mount bags would work, and as Ian pointed out having alot of expensive electronic media in my bag when there are strong magnets might not be such a good idea.

So I checked out the bags they had but everything was too small. "I've got a larger back in the back.", Kalee said. She rummaged around back and pulled out the Mega Tankbag. "It's got a strap kit around here somewhere". So she went off to look for strap kits. The large cortech bag had a magnetic mount, so she pulled the strap mount pad off another bag but could still not find the strap kit. "Bummer". I was really tired of the bag I had. I had decided finally that it was just dangerous.

"I think we can put something together to at least get you on the road". So for the next 45 minutes or so we experimented with straps, hooks and other bits to rig up a way to mount the tank bag. She was out there in the hot sun helping me every step of the way. "You rock. Have I said that too much?". "not yet", she said. :)

She really went above and beyond the call of duty. "I can ship your old bag back to you and I'll send you the correct strap kit".

"You rock. What's your favorite flower?"

"Lillies".

Note to self. Have address. Send flowers as a thank you.

So new tires and tank bag set up off we went to make some mileage. We wanted to make it to a town called Winthrop which was close to 300 miles away. I had once again held up progress with my tank bag experiment.

Unfortunately we made two mistakes with the improvised tank bag setup. While all my gear fit into the bag and the bag sits further back on the tank freeing up the full range of the handlebars, the setup we came up with isn't secure enough so the bag has the tendency to fall over. It's really rather too tall. Separately, we strapped it down not taking into account that I would eventually have to put gas into it.

So at the moment putting gas in the bike is a rather time consuming ordeal where I have to unpack the bike, lift the seat and undo straps which are fraying through repetition. I'm going to have to come up with a better way of attaching the bag or unfortunately maybe get another bag. Otherwise, the bag is great. It's a massive improvement over the Eclipse bag. Difficult parking lot maneuvers and off road work are much easier now.

Off we went. I was skeptical about my new tires. "Michelins", I thought, "I'm a Metzeler guy.".

I began to think about that. I've always run Metzelers. To my knowledge all they make it motorcycle tires. They make the best motorcycle tires. I've always really liked their sport touring line. The current model is their Z6's which I had been running. Great tires.

But now I'm running Michelin Pilot Road 2 tires. I felt strangely uncomfortable with this change. "Membership", I thought. "It's about membership.".

When you meet people you key on certain symbols that give you some hint into what kind of person they are. I can usually peg an Iron Butt guy (super long distance rider) just by looking at the gear he has and how his bike is set up. I can peg a racer wanna be, a real racer, a harley rider, etc.

The gear we choose has certain meta data that comes along with it. In business it's called branding. I generally am loathe to talk about branding because it has always struck me as an application of phoniness. Marketeers will attempt to "create a brand" and fake it's way into meaning.

But in it's pure sense, "branding" is about what we perceive a choice of a given thing means. What does it say about the kind of person you are?

From another perspective it's completely silly. People will make purchase choices based on the "brand" they feel they want to project regardless of what their natural choices might be.

"I'm a metzeler guy and that's completely silly. They are just tires. Maybe the Michelins are good tires. What if they are better tires and no knows? Do I really care if someone would dismiss me because of my tire choices? ", I would think. It's interesting. Another "branding" moment is the kind of trip I'm taking. I'll do over 15,000 miles before I'm done. I'm going to travel to remote areas.

Everyone assumes I'm either a memmber of the Iron Butt guys or the Adventure Riders guys. The gear I have, the bike I ride and the way I hold myself would seem to indicate I'm one or the other. "How many miles do you do a day?", they all ask expecting to hear at least 1000.

"I did 180 yesterday, sipped espresso and had a nice lunch", I would reply. Instant status deflation. It's really funny. There's this brand out there, this sense of membership in an exclusive club and if you do not fit all aspects of the brand you're dismissed.

I considered it carefully. Do I care? If I'm totally honest about I do care. There are people I have met on this trip that I would not have met if they had thought I was a Harley riding biker, or a racer wanna-be. But I'm an unsusual one. I don't really fit into any of the categories. I do it my own way largely alone. I don't belong.

But I like it that I can meet certain people. I really enjoy talking to the Iron Butt guys and the Adventure Riders much more than I do the racers or racer wannabes or the tourers or the Harley guys. I guess I have more in common with them.

If I run Michelins instead of Metzelers will it affect who I am able to meet? A silly question.

Marketing is about getting attention. If you do it well it's about getting the right attention. In the context of a trip it's about the kind of people who walk up to you and are curious about what you're doing. I look like a long distance traveler when I'm out here.

Membership is not something that I feel deeply in my life. I was born into a "family" that was more about work. There was never a sense of togetherness. I was born in the wrong country raised to live in another. So I've never felt like I belonged here. I spoke English with a German accent and was always overly former. Foreign despite the fact that I grew up here. Even to this day I struggle with the cultural rift. Too German for the Americans, but too American for the Germans. Over there I'm called "Der Ami", a derogatory term for American.

I've never been one to belong to clubs or have any real sense of membership. It's not something I feel strongly.

I've been developing software my entire life, not by choice but because I was forced into it. So I don't feel much in common with other developers with the possibility of old school Unix hackers from back in the day.

I'm in business not because I'm born to be in business but because I like going my own way; but I've suffered enough and seen enough that sometimes I have a common experience bond with other business owners.

But mostly, I feel like an outsider, a guest. Visiting.

But in smaller ways, I guess I do experience aspects of membership. I feel membership with motorcyclists, especially those guys you see out in the middle of no where on sport touring bikes carving up the canyons. Motorcyclists wave as they pass each other. Even the Harley riders do it out here.

I remembered I had read an article in Motorcyclist or some other magazine where a guy was ranting about this tradition of waving as you pass another motorcyclist. "Heathen", I thought. I was offended. You wave. It's what you do.

Membership.

So I sucked it up and gave the tires a chance. Scary as it sounds they are great. On my bike they completely change the handling. I'm not comparing a new set to an old squared off set. I remember, since it was only a short while ago when I initially put the Metzelers on how they felt that first day. I enjoy these tires more. The bike leans so much more easily, I'm guessing because the profile is different. Once leaned over the bike is so much more stable. I have a confidence to corner that, on my bike, the Metzelers never gave me.

I found myself wondering if I would make a choice based on the assumed membership someone would assign to me. But it's only tires and I do have my Transit Suit which has been getting alot of comments.

I remember talking to Angela about her degrees. She doesn't like to talk about it, but she has a Phd in Computational Chemisty, has been professor at a medical school and has an MBA. I think she should say she does not like the "membership" that this gives her because of the prevalent view of people like that. It gets in the way of seeing the "real" person underneath.

In a personal context I agree with her, unless it gets in the way of meeting really cool people who happen to share that interest. Keeping it hidden may not be good in all cases.

In a professional context however, signs of membership are necessary. Is this the kind of person you want to hire? Do business with? Partner with? Invest in? The decision to explore these opportunities are done very quickly and at a human level based on the membership symbols we observe.

I tell a story of the Mercedes mechanic I ask to work on my car. He speaks with a strong German accent. The shop is spotless. The mechanics had lab coats on. Do any of these symbols in any way really communicate how good they are at their job? It's membership. Membership in the group "professionals". Maybe Bubba down the street in a disorganized dirty shop could do a better job. I'll never find out because I wouldn't be comfortable taking my car there. It's not the right membership.

If I think about the business and the marketing where membership and relationships are so important I wonder how many little things I'm doing to short circuit those conversations ... you would never approach me to talk about stock market software because I dont' have any outwards symbols that would lead you to believe I know something about the stock market or software. I don't exhibit "membership". And the truth is I'm not much of a stock market guy. I've learned alot about it but I don't live and breathe it. I do software and systems. But I intentionally down play that these days; because I wanted to learn the business side. I wanted "membership" on that side. And I've achieved that to some degree. "You clearly understand business but I have to ask are you technical?", someone asked me once. I suspect not having membership is sometimes a detriment.

People are approaching me about motorcycles and long distance travel and the "Long Way Round" all the time. I've never had anything like this happen before that I can remember.

And this is how my mind works, all the time. I'm constantly thinking stuff like this through. It's probably not normal.

We rode on to make time but Ian compassionately stopped from time to time so we could take photos. The road was incredible and beautiful. It was curvey with good pavement winding up and down green mountain sides next to crystal clear streams and dark blue lakes.

At one point we ran into a guy from Alberta. Ian started talking to him. He has this gift to get just about anyone to talk. I'm always amazing.

I think his name was Martin. He had ridden this crazy little bike over 1200 miles down from Alberta most of it in two days. Ouch.

Riding a bike. Drinking a beer. Talking about how cool it was to ride without a helmet in Montana or was it Wyoming.

Like I said, Crazy Canadians.

We made good time despite me holding up the works every time we had to stop for gas and eventually made it into Winthrop well before the sun went down. There was some kind of Harley gathering there. Harleys everywhere. Most hotels were booked and the ones that had rooms were ridiculously expensive. At one hotel the clerk mentioned that they sometimes let people camp out in the field behind the hotel. $20 later we were heading out there. She had said to camp as close to the river as possible.

Someone walking back there mentioned there was a trail down the hill to a little area next to a picnic table. We rode the bikes down and found the nicest little spot to camp we'd seen in years. It was a little mowed area with a firepit and a picnic table right next to a very full stream. I checked the weather forecast. A surprise storm could ruin our evening but the forecast was clear for the next several days.

Ian wanted to walk to dinner. 1.2 miles away! So we forced marched it over there. Slave driver.

On the way we stopped at a bridge.

I have to admit, it was a nice walk. The walk back was a bit brutal but that's another story.

Winthrop is this touristy "west" town with an "west style" raised sidewalk and old school looking buildings. We decided to have dinner at a Saloon, in front of which there were flower pots.

They sort of match his clothes, don't they? ;)

Saturday June 27th - Victoria

We got up early and headed to the Ferry, but at this point I've been writing a very long time and dinner is calling. I'll try to include those photos tomorrow.

While I'm here at Ian and Tanya's I want to see if I can write the anonymous posting code so you don't have to have a YML.COM account to post comments here. I think I can get that done in a day or two. I also have to wash the bike, which I'll do here shortly, figure out a better tank bag set up, change the oil and filter and repack everything before I had up into BC proper.

more later.