Sunday - NOT a day of rest for the TAT Gruppe

We awakened on Sunday in Shady Cove to yet another beautiful day. Slightly cooler as we had crossed over the crest of the Cascades and were now in the land of green. We started out going North up highway 62 to the aptly named "Trail" and took highway 227 even more North. Spirits were high but the bikes began to sputter a bit with the lower altitudes and moister air. A quick roadside jet/needle adjustment got them on track and everyone could feel the adrenaline glands kicking in as we approached the confluence of 223 and the TAT! A small unmarked road over a small bridge, and we were there.



Once again on the TAT, we rode up shady graveled forest service roads over the range of mountains leading to the Willamette Valley and Interstate 5. The roads were good, the views were wonderful and the rate of speed gave us a false sense of invincibility to reach the coast on the back roads before dusk.







They make the trees a lot bigger out here than the places we have been for the last week.



Once again hitting asphalt roads, we make great time, and nearly miss the TAT turnoff. The GPS once again has us backtrack only to find another of the blasted gates.



So we head off for Canyonville, OR for a meeting with Nick for fuel. Everyone checked their oil and Dave passed the holy fuel can to all in need. Sometime later we discovered he had not screwed Mako's fuel cap on tightly enough resulting in a bit of Magyver inspired repairs. More on that later.

Canyonville is a tiny hamlet, but they have friendly bears.



Dave has made yet another friend . . .



After lunch we head west into the mountains once again. 15 miles into the trip something seems awry and Mako discovers the capless tank mod. A ziplock bag and a couple of zipties later, they are on their way.



That fix would last all the way to the coast!

Ther valleys the roads go through on our bypass are amazing. Unspoiled rivers, amazing geography, picturesque farms, and almost no traffic. The sunshine is just a bonus.









Time for yet another fuel stop for the 360.



The GPS routes us on a spur off the main road and we end up next to a river and sort of spoiled the skinny dipping experience of the folks who got there before us. Whipping out a camera seemed a bit tacky, so we made a quiet retreat. The riding conditions seem flawless at the moment.



Several more times today we would encounter what would become our nemesis:



The final straw was around the corner, but it was a lot bigger than this:



WE turned around, and backtracked a dozen miles, at this time the fuel concerns began to take over. We were able to obtain some at a little hamlet called Agness, which was quite a bit off route, but the only place within range.



It required us to make our last approach to Port Orford on Highway 101 as dusk approached. The fog was just rolling in off of the Pacific as we rounded the last corner before Port Orford.