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Monday Evening Sunrise
Monday Evening Sunrise
by Gary Berg
August 1998
We departed home around 4:30 PM, got gas and spent the first 20 miles just getting away from town. Got on the 410 highway headed east. 410 is also known as Chinook Pass, a twisty stretch of asphalt that runs roughly east-west over the Cascades and through the northern edge of Mt. Ranier National Park. One of the prettiest stretches of road in the Evergreen state, IMO. Heavy construction on the east side of the mountains meant the pass was closed to thru traffic, so traffic was nearly nonexistent. Our destination was a couple of miles before the summit, so the construction wasn't a concern.
About 30 miles into the ride, and we're now in the forest. Weyerhauser logs this area heavily, clearcutting and re- planting sections as they go. Each area cut is small, perhaps 10 acres, and then they move to another area. Looking up at the surrounding hills, it looks like an enormous patchwork quilt has been laid out covering the land in differing depths of green. A few more miles and we're away from the harvested lands and into the Snoqualmie National Forest. 200-foot pines and cedars tower over the highway as we glide through a tunnel of green, seldom seeing direct sunlight on the road.
50 miles along, and a log archway over the road welcomes us to Mt. Ranier. The road immediately gets noticeably bumpier. Apparently the Nationl Park Service doesn't have as much money to spend on road maintenance as the Peoples Republic of Washington State. On the other hand, the road is very clean and free of debris. No broken pavement or cracks, just "wavy". This isn't a high-speed super slab anyway, you need to slow down and look around. The tunnel of green continues, and the numerous turnouts make you wonder at every turn what's there to be seen.
At about 60 miles, we make a right turn off 410 onto the road to Sunrise, one of the two main visitors centers on the mountain. We stop at the toll booth to pay our dues to the Park Service. Ten bucks per vehicle. The very nice young lady inside says "I was just closing up, go ahead". Cool, pop the clutch before she changes her mind. SWMBO yells "thank you" as we motor off.
The next 10 miles are among my favorites in all the world. From the booth at around 2000 feet elevation, the road twists and turns it's way up the side of a ridge to the visitors center at 6500 feet. The road is generally well maintained, and there was no traffic on a monday evening. There are no shoulders or gaurdrails, and few turnouts. Some areas are shaded in lush forest, but as the top nears the trees give way to alpine meadows and spectacular views of Ranier and the surrounding Cascades. As the mountain looms before us and the road traces our path upward, it's ungaurded side defies the danger of the extreme drop beyond it's edge. As the bike willingly pulls us along, all thoughts are lost outside of being right here at this very moment, in awe of the beauty of nature and the honor we have to ba a part of it.
I like riding up hill. The throttle is open slightly. The exhaust note is more aggressive. The brakes aren't needed when a corner approaches. You're pressed back in the seat and your arms are stretched out. Even though a constant speed is maintained, it feels like you're accellerating the whole way.
We drop the kickstand at Sunrise at 6:00 PM, 72 miles from home. Things are different up here, like being in another world. The mountain, obviously, and the views. But look up close. The flowers are different, and the grass. Even the bugs are different. There are these bumble bees that live up here; big, black and yellow bees. I think they could be the state bird. On one trip up here many years ago I spotted one of these about half a mile away at 50 mph. I traced his flight right up to the point were he splattered on my face shield, nearly taking my head off. It was like someone threw an egg at my face. I had to pull over and clean my helmet before going on.
Much to my suprise there's only one other bike in the parking lot, a black Wingabago with two helmets perched on the seat, it's pilots nowhere to be seen. We go inside the visitors center for dinner. They serve a pretty decent burger, and the prices aren't too outrageous considering they're 60 miles from the nearest grocery store. We take a look through the gift shop and a walk through a meadow before mounting up to go home.
I usually like to blast down this road, but this time I put it in 5th gear and just idle down the hill at around 30-35 mph, taking in the sights and smells around us. Some day I'll come back and spend the whole day exploring every turnout and parking spot, but tonight we have to get back to the Real World. I'll be back, and the mountain will still be here.
We stop for gas a few miles from home. As we're sitting on the curb having a coke, that same black 'Wing from the lot at Sunrise rolls by, it's pilots wave. We pull in our driveway at 9:00 PM, just as the sky is getting dark. 144 miles, sore butts, but loving it. A soak in the hot tub, and I'm off to bed to sleep like a baby. The Real World is an OK place to live, as long as there are places to go where you can forget it all for a short time.
ObX content: The 82 XJ ran great. Mileage for the trip was 38 mpg, slightly higher than when we went to Leavenworth fully loaded a couple of weeks ago. At 6500 feet it was noticeably richer, but still plenty of power. It didn't want to start with the choke at that altitude, fired right off with the choke open.
by Gary Berg
August 1998
We departed home around 4:30 PM, got gas and spent the first 20 miles just getting away from town. Got on the 410 highway headed east. 410 is also known as Chinook Pass, a twisty stretch of asphalt that runs roughly east-west over the Cascades and through the northern edge of Mt. Ranier National Park. One of the prettiest stretches of road in the Evergreen state, IMO. Heavy construction on the east side of the mountains meant the pass was closed to thru traffic, so traffic was nearly nonexistent. Our destination was a couple of miles before the summit, so the construction wasn't a concern.
About 30 miles into the ride, and we're now in the forest. Weyerhauser logs this area heavily, clearcutting and re- planting sections as they go. Each area cut is small, perhaps 10 acres, and then they move to another area. Looking up at the surrounding hills, it looks like an enormous patchwork quilt has been laid out covering the land in differing depths of green. A few more miles and we're away from the harvested lands and into the Snoqualmie National Forest. 200-foot pines and cedars tower over the highway as we glide through a tunnel of green, seldom seeing direct sunlight on the road.
50 miles along, and a log archway over the road welcomes us to Mt. Ranier. The road immediately gets noticeably bumpier. Apparently the Nationl Park Service doesn't have as much money to spend on road maintenance as the Peoples Republic of Washington State. On the other hand, the road is very clean and free of debris. No broken pavement or cracks, just "wavy". This isn't a high-speed super slab anyway, you need to slow down and look around. The tunnel of green continues, and the numerous turnouts make you wonder at every turn what's there to be seen.
At about 60 miles, we make a right turn off 410 onto the road to Sunrise, one of the two main visitors centers on the mountain. We stop at the toll booth to pay our dues to the Park Service. Ten bucks per vehicle. The very nice young lady inside says "I was just closing up, go ahead". Cool, pop the clutch before she changes her mind. SWMBO yells "thank you" as we motor off.
The next 10 miles are among my favorites in all the world. From the booth at around 2000 feet elevation, the road twists and turns it's way up the side of a ridge to the visitors center at 6500 feet. The road is generally well maintained, and there was no traffic on a monday evening. There are no shoulders or gaurdrails, and few turnouts. Some areas are shaded in lush forest, but as the top nears the trees give way to alpine meadows and spectacular views of Ranier and the surrounding Cascades. As the mountain looms before us and the road traces our path upward, it's ungaurded side defies the danger of the extreme drop beyond it's edge. As the bike willingly pulls us along, all thoughts are lost outside of being right here at this very moment, in awe of the beauty of nature and the honor we have to ba a part of it.
I like riding up hill. The throttle is open slightly. The exhaust note is more aggressive. The brakes aren't needed when a corner approaches. You're pressed back in the seat and your arms are stretched out. Even though a constant speed is maintained, it feels like you're accellerating the whole way.
We drop the kickstand at Sunrise at 6:00 PM, 72 miles from home. Things are different up here, like being in another world. The mountain, obviously, and the views. But look up close. The flowers are different, and the grass. Even the bugs are different. There are these bumble bees that live up here; big, black and yellow bees. I think they could be the state bird. On one trip up here many years ago I spotted one of these about half a mile away at 50 mph. I traced his flight right up to the point were he splattered on my face shield, nearly taking my head off. It was like someone threw an egg at my face. I had to pull over and clean my helmet before going on.
Much to my suprise there's only one other bike in the parking lot, a black Wingabago with two helmets perched on the seat, it's pilots nowhere to be seen. We go inside the visitors center for dinner. They serve a pretty decent burger, and the prices aren't too outrageous considering they're 60 miles from the nearest grocery store. We take a look through the gift shop and a walk through a meadow before mounting up to go home.
I usually like to blast down this road, but this time I put it in 5th gear and just idle down the hill at around 30-35 mph, taking in the sights and smells around us. Some day I'll come back and spend the whole day exploring every turnout and parking spot, but tonight we have to get back to the Real World. I'll be back, and the mountain will still be here.
We stop for gas a few miles from home. As we're sitting on the curb having a coke, that same black 'Wing from the lot at Sunrise rolls by, it's pilots wave. We pull in our driveway at 9:00 PM, just as the sky is getting dark. 144 miles, sore butts, but loving it. A soak in the hot tub, and I'm off to bed to sleep like a baby. The Real World is an OK place to live, as long as there are places to go where you can forget it all for a short time.
ObX content: The 82 XJ ran great. Mileage for the trip was 38 mpg, slightly higher than when we went to Leavenworth fully loaded a couple of weeks ago. At 6500 feet it was noticeably richer, but still plenty of power. It didn't want to start with the choke at that altitude, fired right off with the choke open.