Osoyoos

Arrived on Thursday in a downpour.  By time I checked into the Sahara Inn the sun was shining once again.  I offloaded my gear into the room and sat outside to relax with the mountains in view.

Friday I took a ride to Midway to kill some time before the NORWESTARS arrived in earnest.

I was outside next to Trafalgar when some Canadian lady started screaming at me like I was a 70’s rock star.  It was Roxanne who proceeded to smother me with an affectionate hug and greeting.  They had arrived.  I took my place in the court yard and counted the bikes whilst they filed in.

Art and Dave showed up, and one point of interest, it was the slowest I’ve ever seen Art maneuver his bike into the shade.  Anyone that has riden with that crazy Canuck, that has an on/off switch for a throttle, would be shocked to see him ride slower than 150KMH.  Sometime in the evening pizzas showed up, so we were a happy bunch.  Idaho Ray showed up without reservations, so I offered up my extra bed, aghast that he had to suffer through the toxic smell of my sweat-soaked riding gear and a fresh deposit in the commode.

Saturday, I rode with a few on a expedition through the back roads to that Canadian must see, Tickleberry’s for ice cream.  Afterward we arrived at Brian’s house where I convinced the retired school teacher to launch his Laser sailboat.  I proceeded to win the Tuc-El-Nuit Lake regatta, it was a tough race with the number of Lasers on the lake, but alas I pulled it off.  I had to beat that lone American.

We proceeded to the Sahara where the NORWESTARS hot chicks prepared a BBQ of Tom’s burnt hamburgers.  I played the role of shylock, collecting $10 Canadian, or $2.37 American from everyone.  Made quite a kitty for my regatta winnings.  From somewhere out of fog, Dwight Lobson of the Merry Band of Lunatics, appeared and we spent the night filling in the gaps of our last decade in life.  Before I knew it, it was after mid-night, so I made my way to the bed.

Sunday, I thought it would be fun to ride to higher altitude and cooler temperatures to get lunch.  So five of us made the ride to Greenwood.  We had sandwiches at the Copper Eagle, where Art pontificated about the quality of the water, despite the sign that said, “Unsafe water, drink at risk of death.”

That evening we all went for Italian, after the waitress tried to sit all 14 of us into a four person booth.  Ray and Marline showed me their beautiful home in the midst of a remodel and Ray’s museum ready 1937 Ariel motorcycle. Roxanne, being Roxanne, served ice cream cones in the courtyard afterwards.

Monday I packed up, said my farewells and proceeded down 97 toward Bend. I made it as far as Biggs Junction and between the heat (100 f) and fatigue I decided to not press my luck, so I now sit in a cheap hotel listening to the semi trucks barreling through this Columbia River pitstop.  Tomorrow it’ll be a quick mosey to Bend and home where I have to finish painting my own house in the midst of a remodel.

Overall, a wonderful weekend with my family–the NORWESTARS.