This past Spring, Zack Bingham joined RIDE Grand Rapids, and participated in several of our events, including the Lake Superior Circle Tour. At our November meeting we bid him farewell, as his career is leading him to relocate to Portland, Oregon. Shortly after his arrival there, Zack got down to the business of starting our RIDE Portland Chapter. He recently filed this report:

I wanted to tell everyone about my ride yesterday so I decided to write a story about it for the motorcycle club newsletter. I am not a writer, nor do I play one on TV, but here's my best shot.

I had been looking forward to this day since I moved to Portland. I had been here for 10 days, the boxes in my apartment weren't even completely unpacked, and here I was watching the weather every day for an elusive 50 degree Saturday with no rain in the forecast. It was forecast all week and the day finally came. Of course, I would have liked it to have been warmer, but you can't have it all.

I got all bundled up (after a 30 minute bike cleaning session)and headed north out of downtown on US-30. The route follows the Columbia River all the way out to its mouth but it turned out to not be what I expected. There was a lot of industry and the road was straight and heavily traveled. I got to Astoria (of "Kindergarten Cop" fame) and found a local place to eat that promised burgers and seafood. I had the halibut sandwich just to sample some of the local flavor.

Just outside of Astoria the fun started. The sun started peeking its way out of the clouds intermittently and the route started winding down the Pacific coast. Every 5-10 miles there was another resort town called something "Beach" or "Shores."

I got south of Cannon Beach and pulled in to one of the many scenic viewpoints. It was up on a bluff and the shore was curved just right so 15 miles or so could be seen in either direction. There was a large green mountain shrouded in haze to the south which overshadowed a grouping of shoreline houses. To the north, there were 4 or 5 giant rock towers that seemed to be wading in the shallow water off the beach.

As I was admiring the scenery a voice said, "Where ya headed?" I replied, "I guess I will go south to Tillamook and pick up Oregon 6 and head back home to Portland." "Naw, naw you don't want to go that way" he said. The man, whose name I later found out was Leonard, was riding a school bus yellow Moose Catcher--I mean Gold Wing. "Follow me and I'll take you down Oregon 53, you can go down 6 another time." Just then another man walked up. "Can you believe this weather!?" exclaimed the man. I didn't know it but apparently seeing the sun in November on the Oregon coast was almost unheard of. The wind howls and the rain comes sideways I was told. It made me more glad that I was out experiencing this unusual weather pattern. "By the way, the Beavers are up 17-3." The man said. It was the day of the Civil War as it is called, the football game between the University of Oregon and Oregon State. I have never heard so many people talk so much about one football game. The entire state really gets into it.

Leonard finished up his cigarette and we took off headed south. Soon we were taking a left on Oregon 53. At fist it was a nice winding road in the farm country. But I could see the green mountain in the distance. Soon a sign appeared on the side of the road that said something like, "S: Next 12 Miles." The road started winding along a ridge and there was not one area where the double yellow lines were straight. I kept wondering whether the road really needed to be built like this or if someone put all the kinks in it knowing how much fun I would have.

The road zigged and zagged for close to 30 miles. On some turns I felt like I didn't want to lean too far because my head would scrape on the rock face that was right next to the shoulder of the road. Leonard and I stopped in a restaurant parking lot at the end of 53. The cross street was US-26 which would take me back into Portland. "Now" Leonard said, "you won't want to come out to the coast any other way." "You've got that right!" I smiled. He proceeded to tell me of a few other good roads in the area and in the rest of Oregon.

As I got on my way I started thinking. When I joined Ride Motorcycle I thought I had somehow stumbled upon a group of people that were weirdos--just like me. I was sure there couldn't be THAT many people that ride motorcycles and sit around talking about good roads. Most people ride to be seen by other people and look cool. Now I realize I was wrong. Most motorcycle riders are "weirdos" that enjoy riding because of the sights, sounds, and smells of riding, and most importantly the FEELING of all aspects of it. From the feeling of complete enjoyment of riding down a country road on a perfect summer day, to the feeling you get in your stomach when you enter a hairpin just a bit too fast. I take comfort in knowing that more that one of you will get out Ken's bestseller, "Atlas" to trace the route I explained here. To all those people who ride because of some kind of image a biker may have, I hope you one day can have a small portion of the great times I have had in a year and a half of riding motorcycle.

I got back to my apartment and had to check the date again. What a way to spend November 23rd.