Oregon Trail, without the trailer...

How often is it that you get to help a friend fulfill a dream?  My friend Karen started riding a year ago after finding out that cancer was something that was not going to knock her down.  She took the basic riders course, picked herself up a RoadStar 1100 (out of Canada) and rode it throughout winter to appease a friend who needed those fixes every time the road cleared enough to make it safe. Still, she lusted for that elusive Harley out there that would make her sing, so to beef up for it she enrolled for a the "ride like a cop" course at the Northwest Motorcycle School, passed the brutal trials, and set her sights on finding what she wanted. So recently she showed me a photo from a private dealer in Oregon that she was negotiating with (Allen's Alley- http://www.allensalley.net/) and asked one simple question "this is the one, but how do I justify it?"

Sister, please...

"So, when are we going to Hillsboro?" was probably the only reasonable answer.

So we loaded up last Friday morning on the "Mistress" and headed down to Hillsboro with a cashiers check, rain gear, unseasonably cool temperatures and a road trip in mind that if this was the one, then this was the one!  Good thing Mistress is geared for European driving because the rain and greater Portland traffic at 3:00-ish was less than fun, but we arrived at Fred Allen's shop near 4:00 pm and then the fun began.  Fred is the kind of guy that if I was ever to buy a Harley, he would be the first I would call and deal with.  So he rolled out a 2008 FLHX Street Glide that impressed me.

This is one nice bike...












So off she goes with me in tow on the Mistress.  It looks, runs, and maneuvers well for such a big bike, and we stop and she says "you ride it".  Woo-Hoo! Nice bike, handles well, LOTS of grunt, and balanced.  Looked over the accessories, Karen poured through the dealer service records, turned them over to me to pour over, and the final determination is that "this is one sweet deal".

I watch the negotiation with fascination, and they seal the deal.

Finished up with her on her new bike and off to a place for the night we went (Karen paid for my room and fed me for my "troubles", like a road trip is "trouble"?).

As we were unpacking gear she noticed a screw in the tire, so as we were checking in and talking about finding a dealership to get it fixed, in walks Fred with some farkle he wanted to give her for the bike that was part of the deal and she points out the screw.  On me he said, take it to D&S Cycle down in Aloha and I'll make it good.  So Fred shows up the next morning with an air compressor to make sure she has enough air and off we go.  Tire fixed at the bike shop and we think we are ready to head home!

If there was ever a trial by fire, I led Karen through it Saturday.  State Highway 26 through Portland was the first leg, then I decided to go around the back side of Mt. Hood and come up the 35... we hit a blizzard at Government Camp that was incredible.  In 1/8th of a mile the temp dropped from 35° to 25° (like 35° wasn't bad enough?) and the rain turned into a white-out. If I wasn't in such shock I would have taken a picture, but the snow frozen on my windscreen made me think twice about sticking around and I motioned to Karen "Follow me" and we U-turned in the middle of the highway and headed back out of the snow and back into the rain.  An hour later we were at Interstate 84 and headed out down the Oregon side of the Columbia to Hood River, where I made her cross a 1 mile grated bridge, then a break before continuing down the Washington side.  A very friendly Trooper of the WSP pulled up and talked bikes a few minutes, and told us that the wind shouldn't be so bad once we left the Gorge.

Hoo-boy.  The winds of the Gorge were child's play after we came out of Satus Pass. There she was thrust into the brutal winds of Eastern Washington between Yakima and the Blewett pass cutoff against winds that would only let us do 45 mph safely. We cut through the Yakima River Canyon for what protection we could, followed by a 20 mile burst in the open winds. Cold wind, damn cold... but we made it to the Blewett Pass cutoff and from there it was a dream.  Handed off at the Wenatchee River turnout and the rest is a story that we'll carry for a very long time.

Karen, it was an honor to have have shared this with you.