Washington State Route 20

North Cascades Hwy. 20 is a wonderful ride if you can manage to break away from mid-week commitments before Memorial Day or after Labor Day. During much of the summer, and especially on holiday weekends, it becomes an exercise in passing over-loaded and under-powered motor homes and travel trailers but on this fine mid-week morning in mid-may that would not be a problem.

I awoke to fluffy white clouds and sunshine, a perfect day to let my little wildebeest stretch her legs over Washington Pass. The ride to Sedro-Woolley was uneventful, mostly straight roads and the ever-present cagers who can't decide if they're turning, stopping or going straight and aren't about to use their signal for fear it will wear out their flasher relay or strain a muscle having to lift their arm to the turn stalk. I imagine a certain percentage of them have a phobia of time bombs, a sound not too different from that of a flasher relay if those childhood cartoons were as true to life as I imagined. And then there are those who simply don't need turn signals because the left lane is their private home, they will never budge from the left lane, even while cruising by a sign that says in large letters "Unlawful to use left lane unless overtaking another vehicle" or other such equally clear language. I imagine the left lane dawdlers feel they are stretching our tax dollars by helping to insure the left side of the road wears at the same rate as the right. Alternatively, maybe their intentions are honorable but they have the unfortunate handicap of dyslexia to contend with. In any case, they are easily identifiable from over a mile away, just look for the "pace car" leading that line of 20 or so vehicles.

I took fuel at my traditional stop in Sedro-Woolley where a youthful gal complimented me on the grey sheen of my ST4s which I was preparing to ride. She said most bikes these days look so "plastic". While I have always thought the Titanium Grey looked fine to my eye, it sure was nice to hear confirmation from the style-conscious youth. After agreeing with her whole-heartedly, I headed east, leaving most of the road congestion behind. Having procrastinated the radar detector installation for too long, I kept the Wildebeest at reasonable speeds on these regularly patrolled roads, mostly under 75mph. The new 42t rear sprocket is perfect for traveling in highway traffic, allowing the engine to loaf along while clicking between 5th and 6th depending upon speed and terrain. The shift to 4th gives good passing speed, before the sprocket change I found myself shifting to 3rd in the same situation. I was behind traffic preparing to pass when I saw a State Trooper in a SUV in the distance. What a ridiculous concept, State Troopers driving a top-heavy, sluggish suburban grocery getter. However, it is a concept that has my whole-hearted support, if you see my point. I imagine it will not be too long before the SUV craze dies down and the Troopers figure out they never were well-suited to patrolling the State Highways anyway.

I stopped for a quick and delicious burger at a little place in the town of Concrete across the highway from the large concrete silos. The three miles of highway in this town are heavily patrolled and are posted at the ridiculously low limit of 35mph, supposedly under the pretext of children's safety. Never mind that in my 30 plus visits, I have never seen a child or ANY pedestrian, never mind that the town is actually built up on a little hill a good distance away from the road. It's really just for the purpose of generating revenue. A couple of quick twists on the rear pre-load adjuster are all it takes to prepare for the delicious curves that await. After entering the highway I checked my speedo, oops, 55mph and approaching the area where I was ticketed 11 years ago, slow it down to just under 40, around the curve, there's the radar cop tucked away beside the road, some things never change.

A few nice curves between Concrete and Marblemount, too nice to worry about possible radar. Leaving Marblemount, no cars in sight, clear, fresh air, big fluffy white clouds, brilliant sunshine and blue sky, snow-capped rocky peaks and lush green grass along the meandering river, a weight was lifted from my shoulders as I soaked up the sights and smells. Somehow, without actually thinking it, I just *knew* there were to be no more radar, I could feel it in my bones, I had left them behind on this sleepy Wednesday. The light grey pavement ribbon wound it's way towards motorcycle nirvana. This is the territory where the Wildebeest roams free.

Delicious curves, stunning views, mile after mile. The roadside snow banks appear, the air gets crisp and dry, and the huge, well-engineered turns allow comfortable travel between 90 and 110. Unfortunately, my favorite 250-degree sweeper with grand views all around has 5-foot tall snow banks right up to the edge lines, no visibility around the corner and snow-melt wets the road. For the first time on the ride, I'm glad for the electric jacket liner I had turned on at the first taste of mountain crispness. Soon the snow banks begin to diminish and the air warms. The incredibly intoxicating scent of mountain pine trees leaving the long winter behind overwhelms my senses. I pull over to soak it all in. I empty my water bottle, surprised at how good it tastes. The intense heat from the sun reflects off the snow banks all around and yet the air is crisp and cool. I inhale deeply of the healing mountain air. I am in a small plowed "v" by the side of the road, which limits my visibility in either direction, my own personal mountain cubbyhole. After five or 10 minutes I note that not a single car has passed, the only sounds are those of a nearby creek and the chirping birds. Finally, the whoosh of a car startles me from my dream. After clicking a couple of pictures, I continue east. The smells are now of the warmth of Eastern Washington, the curves fewer, the snow gone and the pavement showing signs of solar abuse in contrast to the perfect, beautiful light-grey mountain pavement.

Not remembering how many miles of straight road I will need to travel before fuel is available, I decide to return West while I still have enough range as I hadn't taken fuel since Sedro-Woolley, seemingly a world away from this paradise. Besides, I was already missing those wonderful Cascade curves.

Number of motorcycles spotted in traffic west of Sedro-Woolley: about 9 Number of motorcycles spotted in paradise: 0 Trip length: 286 miles Fuel consumption: 6.5 gals. Fuel economy: 45.1 mpg (for the mountain portion, 192 miles) 2002 ST4s, stock everything except for 42t sprocket, no panniers. The fuel economy surprised me on this trip because I spent so much time above 90 and accelerating hard out of corners. I thought the 42t sprocket and high speeds would have impacted economy but surprisingly not. I have now fueled a few times since the sprocket change and, if anything, economy has improved slightly.

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