Chemult, Oregon
I followed 97 south until I reached Crescent. On the right-hand side of the road was a cafe surrounded with bikes of all kinds and shapes (as well as bikers of all sizes and shapes). Instinctually, I pulled off and found a spot to land my craft. Something didn't seem right. I had arrived about 17 miles earlier than predicted. The cafe had the wrong name. Oops... Crescent, Chemult. D'oh! Same thing. Having dismounted, removed my gloves, removed my helmet, disconnected my radio, etc., I reversed the process and left behind about fifty confused and amused bikers. 17 miles later, I arrived in the correct town at the correct cafe. This one too was surrounded by two-wheeled vehicles. Nice to be among the similarly-afflicted. The place was packed but I was able to find a spot at the lunch bar with the other losers who were dining alone. It was lunch time, by the way... you're all probably thinking that all I do is eat. ...Well, you already know that anyway. There were several groups there who were honoring their paternal leaders by allowing them to buy a meal for Father's Day. (By the way, Dad: Happy Father's Day. Thanks for not killing me when you had the chance.) I didn't play Keno even though there were lots of people happily paying the "stupid" tax. I did, however, visit the art gallery in the basement. There were a number of very lifelike oil paintings on display. I especially liked the one with the cigar-smoking dogs playing cards. 
Ding. Got another rally stamp. That's eleven. One more than I need to collect the "finisher" pin in October. But I'm not done yet... Mix and match them. Trade with your friends. |
My next stop was Chemult. I came back from Silver Lake the same way I arrived (via Hwy 31). My computer mapping and route software had suggested I take a "short cut" back to Hwy 97. Upon closer inspection in one of those old-fashioned paper map thingies, I discovered that the short cut was a dirt forest service road. Never trust a computer. I should know better.