It was still 62° and raining in Seattle, and almost July. I was ready to get out of town and find some sun. So when my buddy Michael from Bend, Oregon called me and suggested that we converge down in Quincy, California at the High Sierra Music Festival, I knew we had our plan.
Quincy California is probably not a place you go very often. It’s kind of in the middle of nowhere. That usually makes for a good motorcycle ride. I figured about 900 miles, or a day and a half each way.
For some reason I thought all high roads would be clear and free of any frozen obstructions by early July. But much to my dismay, after the first 2 1/2 hours of riding, I learned that road 25 over Mount Adams was closed, due to late snowpack on the roads.
I studied my GPS trying to figure if there was an alternate backroad route. I started off down a damp logging road in a light rain to see if I could find something interesting. Within a few minutes my rear pannier had managed to clip a tree that was sticking out into the road – sending me immediately over the handlebars. I was only going about 12 miles an hour, but the tumble was hard enough to shatter my windshield. At about this time, a steady rain had begun to fall. This is going to be an interesting day. It’s now mid day and I’m still 6 hours from Bend Oregon. This photo shows my bike right after the fall in front of the “road closed” sign.
I made some phone calls and found a new windscreen in Bend. So I headed back out to the pavement around Mount Adams the long way. Up and over Mt. Hood the steady 50° rain trickled down my neck, under my jacket and down my chest. I was getting really tired of the rain. Just about the time when the violent shivers began, I headed out of the evergreens and into the high dry desert of Oregon. The mercury rose – mid-70′s, and my attitude followed.
Nothing like learning to appreciate what you have by not having something. I like windshields. My detour cost me time and it was getting dark fast. I was still 30 miles north of bend. But pictures called, and I pulled off the road to study a cool farmer’s field bathed in sunset light. When I got back on the bike to head to my camp at Tumelo State Park, the bike was dead. I had been wearing my electric jacket all on the high setting to compensate for no windshield. Evidently that was too much for the V-Strom’s electrical system. I think I’m going to get a room.
I laid in bed after a 40 min. piping hot shower with visions of the AAA guys jumpstarting my bike in the dark on that little country road. What a day. I’m ready for another try.
Looking back I’d describe the high Sierra music Festival as the angry little step-sister of burning Man. You know like a 3-year-old that wacks you with her spoon and then sprays you with chewed peas all while smiling like an angel? There seems to be this intention of packing in as much debauchery in as little time and physical space as possible – like a 3 year old. BUT The musical line up is awesome and the people are tan and smiley. It’s just the infrastructure that’s a little chaotic. Eh, infracstucture-smucture. I can pee anywhere. Right?
Over the course of the 3 days we watched the sanitation system slowly implode. The functionality of the sanitation system was inversely proportional to the intake of mind altering substances present at the festival. I found one random shower stall in one of the men’s bathrooms that stayed open all night. I’m not sure that was a good thing. Shirts, shoes, diapers, toilet paper flip-flops and other random items lined the periphery of the manky shower stall. But the water seemed clean and it was hot. That’s kind of how their system rolled. Right on the edge of…not okay.
The campgrounds were packed with wall-to-wall tents that expressed the priorities and styles, of it’s occupants. Entropy abounded. As the days went on, and the partying elevated, all sense of organization seemed dubious.
But again, the music was awesome – my favorite shows were Orgone out of LA, Elephant Revival from Boulder, and My Morning Jacket. The stages and sound quality were great. The sun was cranking hot, but there were plenty of water cannons, cold beer, and shady tents to hide out under.
One of our neighbors had a small rock band ensemble, that spent the late evening hours setting up their sound system. At the strike of midnight, they fired up their generator plug-in their amps, and began their concert. They actually sounded pretty good. But by 2:30 AM the earplugs distorted their electrical expression to the point of demented screeches. Oh well, sleep is overrated.
The frosty ride down, 3 hours of sleep every night for 4 nights, hundred degree sunny days, and interesting alcoholic concoctions, all combined to compromise my immune system. I was catching one nasty cold. This was especially a bummer, as I was stoked to explore some of the more remote dirt roads that I had bypassed on the way down due to my delay. Looks like I might be taking a beeline back to Seattle.
I-5 take me home.
Would I do the high Sierra music Festival again? For a 2 day trip yes. 3 days maybe. But not for a six-day motorbike trip. I’d rather spend those extra days lost in the middle of some exquisite and silent high country Canyon. But I’m glad I went. And you should certainly check it out.
How about you? Did you see any awesome concerts this summer?
