It was Sunday afternoon, and I had intended to complete at least one of the many blog entries that I had started and left unfinished. I didn't want anyone to miss out on the tragic tale of the two malfunctioning thermometers, or my commentary on good customer relations, or the satire on pub closings. Nevertheless, I had dealt with a loose head bolt in the real cylinder of Fair Chromio a couple of weeks ago, one which caused a burnt-out head gasket. Repairs having been successfully completed, I remain steadfast in my attempts to "run it through its paces" to determine if aforementioned recalcitrant bolt should rapidly wiggle its way loose, or alternatively (and for the better) make it through another leak-free year of American engineering. No blogging this day.
A trip to Bend was calculated to be just the thing for it. Via the Cascade Lakes Oregon Scenic Byway. 110 miles one way. This is a truly stunning ride, especially the part that winds between South Sister and Mount Bachelor. By the time I made it that far I settled on the knowledge that compression in the real cylinder, or any for that matter, is a Good Thing (tm). Whilst traveling, and to kill the proverbial bird with the celebrated solitary stone, I though checking to see if the cask offerings at Deschutes in Bend were as good as the ones mentioned in Portland.
It was broken, I was told. No handpull. I though there used to be two pumps, but didn't argue the point. The parts, difficult to acquire, were being sought after in some remote island off the coast of France. I had to opt for "regular beer". First choice was the Jubelale in July. Remarkably delicious. This is their traditional winter brew, but was trotted out in July for some reason.
What's a trip to Bend without stopping by the Bend Brewing Company; it's only the walk of a couple blocks. The Outback Old Ale was the choice, as I wanted something bitter without all the hop finish. No comments on this pint here - after all this is not a beer review blog, it's about motorcycles.
To further test the performance of the rear cylinder, and to clean out the carb, I then motored over Santiam with the intent of riding the Aufderheide back to Oakridge for some proper (and free) real ale, but decided that the scenario of encountering a large, mobile piece of meat around 10:00 PM near Constitution Grove in the pitch dark at 70 MPH was less desirable than going all the way down to Eugene and coming up 58. Which I did. I tried to stop at High Street, my Eugene local, but failed to acquire a pint after waiting 30 minutes. It didn't appear like they were busy, as they said they were, but I got tired of just sitting and browsing The Internets on my iPhone and decided just to give it a miss and head up the mountain.
Back at the Local 180, I have to say that this new batch (#9) of Union Dew is outstanding. You should try a pint.