Saturday it was raining, raining hard as I drove us to Salem for a visit with the Robare family. I dropped Jennifer at the door, “let them know I want to get out and ride before I lose my resolve.”
At 11:00 while I was unloading the bike at Willamette Mission State Park the rain stopped, blown away by a strong southerly wind. It seemed like a nice idea to ride to Mt. Angel, home of huge, traditional Oktoberfest. Memory said that Waconda Road would get me close to there, and I’d spotted a Waconda road earlier.
That was the plan, ride in the general direction of Mt. Angel until happening across a familiar road. From there I could pedal to the town. It worked. I wandered a bit, through a swarm of bees, through a orchard of cherry trees in full bloom, across the southern end of the French Prairie area.
After four hours I was back at the truck. It hadn’t rained on me at all during the ride. The rain didn’t start until I was driving again. It was a great, pleasent day on the bike.
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