Final Fall Ride in the west Cascades?

 
Summer has been really weird here in Wa state. Really no rain to speak of all summer and fall was just as dry. It has been the best Indian summer I've experienced in all my years of living in western Wa.

We got snow down to the 3400 ft level last week. So, with a cloudy Saturday and all my chores done, the time was ripe to take my girl Sally (G650GS Sertao) out on a date.

I put the word out early sat morning to some friends that we were leaving at noon. All busy, except Dr K. Good deal. Sally and the Almighty Bruce (Tenere T7) took off.

So we headed out towards Darrington, Wa to Swede Heaven on FS18 to FS17. We wondered if we'd encounter snow as we saw the snow level was pretty low and down the sides of the mountain.




First stop was to investigate a memorial where someone did an Evel Knevel around one of the turns some years ago on a quad (?).



We headed up to nearly 3500 hundred feet and begun to see snow on the side of the road, but it appeared to have been washed away by the recent rains as the snow level rose higher in elevation.

Some clouded views of Whitehorse mountain across the valley along with Devils Thumb ( all places I climbed when I had good knees in my younger years).



The sun was trying ,but just couldn't win.

We took a side road on the other side of the pass and rode through some beautiful country with a small lake and river running through the valley. We looked at the GPS and the road appeared to "peter out" in a dead end canyon.

BTW... lots and lots of hunters out .

We arrived at the mouth of the canyon just as the road was getting more interesting in elevation and came across a gate. Damn!! Closed for mining.






We evaluated the gate and assessed if we could go around it. 

 So we looked at the possibility of getting around the gate. The only viable solution was going around it on the right. But, the issue was a big, unmovable rock that we'd have to squeeze by. Going yet around the rock was maybe possible, but the road dropped off along a cliff there and a slip meant falling and possibly losing the bike and/or getting hurt. We then eyeballed the width between the gate post, the big rock and our footpegs/handlebars and decided it was too close. We'd have to come back thru it and it would take us both much time and we'd have to be carefully threading our each bike thru, hoping not to slip and drop it on the rock. Which was wet , mossy and slippery. Did I mention that I'm getting too old for such shenanigans. We both had nothing to prove... So we turned around and headed back up the valley.

At the jct of FS 18 and FS 17 (Finney Ridge rd ?) there was a construction sign that stated the Finney Creek Bridge was out 9 miles ahead. Darn, soo much for looping back to Darrington, Wa.

We decided, instead, to head towards Sedro-Woolley.. Yes, this is a real place here in Wa. Weird name for sure. I always thought the name came from a mammoth find or something of the sort in the area. But wikipedia mentions no such connection.



I mentioned to Dr K that there was an ancient tree along the way that must be 300-500 plus years old and to keep a lookout for it.



Sure enough, we found it. This tree is an oddity out here in an area of 2nd and 3rd growth forests. Somehow it had managed to survive the loggers saw, forest fires and disease over the centuries.
There were many ancient tree stumps in and around the area, but am baffled how a greedy lumber company let this one go. Trees like this are are rarely seen outside of parks these days.



Of course, my girl Sally was having a good time. And why wouldn't she. This is a beautiful ride.

We continued on down the road passing a squadron of jeeps, trucks and even old Honda civics along the way filled with orange vested hunters. Some parked along the clear-cut ridges and empty, while others were occupied with folks glassing the hillsides and valleys below.

I'm sure they were all excited to see bikers coming through scaring away their prey. Either way, we got and gave friendly waves from many of them.

We reached a high point on this particular route and the sides of the road were soon dotted with patches of snow. The fall colors were out in full force. It was beautiful. Fall is my favorite time of year to be out in the mountains. The colors, the leaves, the smell and damp still air with a bite of cold in the air really stir my soul. Unfortunately, fall is too short and in the Pacific northwest, on the west side of the cascades that usually means rain. Today was a gift.




We passsed a hunters camp just off the road, complete with canvas tents, a covered seating area with a roaring camp fire. It all looked cozy and inviting. Even with the snow on the ground.



From the pass the road dropped swiftly towards the west and soon we had great views of the Skagit Valley from high above. The Skagit River is crawling its way out of the north cascades into a broad open delta on its way towards the ocean. This is a salmon and steelhead highway. Come February, the banks will be littered with migrating eagles from the north, waiting out the cold and fishing for food.

On a clear day, the vista includes unobstructed views of a glaciated volcano to the north, Mt Baker. But not today. The sun lost its battle with the clouds and the mistress of the north was nowhere to be seen. Darn!



The weather got warmer and soon we were in the valley floor. Next to the river, checking our gps to make sure we would be home before dark. The days are really getting shorter now and soon we will be engulfed with rain, snow and long dark winter days. For me this is a time of reflection and dreams. I will spend the winter months pouring over maps, wrenching on my bikes and planning for next spring.



With less than an hour to ride home from here, we were suddenly greeted by flashing lights and a handful of fire trucks. They asked us if we've seen fire and or smoke. They got a call apparently. We mentioned that we saw nothing, so off they went heading further down along the skagit river looking for the fire that was called in.

With all the dampness, it seemed improbable that there could be a wildfire, but who knows. We wished them luck. Riding hwy 9, we arrived home in less than an hour. I was to enjoy a nice dinner with my wife in a warm cozy home as darkness just set in.

What a fun day to be alive.



I went to bed that night dreaming of more rides and pondering my last days of work before retirement at the end of November.

Thanks for riding along.