The road stretched out in front of us, void of any traffic, with the only disruption being the small towns which looked like they were stuck, frozen in a better time.
The chopper gods were smiling down on us though. As route 395 and highway 20, wove us through, in between, and around every single storm of our 410 mile trip to Vale. Sometimes we were surrounded by rain, but the road in front of us snaked through the drops, leaving us completely dry for almost the entire trip. A couple peg pushing adventures at the end of a couple long stretches, left us riding shoulder to shoulder, on the shoulder, enjoying the scenery in the slow lane.
The last bit of the trip, we followed the Malhuer River as it made it's way through the mountains and into the valley where Vale was. Wicky, Donny, cold beer and pizza were there to greet us. Another long day, ending perfectly.
