Day 18: Troutdale OR - Klamath Falls OR

So, yes, our mission today is to do the West Cascades Scenic Byway that we didn't do last year because of burny fiery DETH everywhere.  But first, no visit to this area would be complete without a visit here:

Dunno how I missed it last year, but it does mean that in the past couple of months I've been to both Boring and Twatt.

The first bit of the aforementioned scenic byway, if you're starting at the northern end in the Clackamas River Highway (sic - it makes the average BRITISH B-road look like the Ventura Freeway).  I got really quite a long way down this last year before finding a Ford Crown Victoria parked across the road with a man inside inviting me to fuck off back the way I had come, adding about a hundred miles to the route.  But he wasn't there this time, and nor was the smoke which made the whole thing even more grim.

The Breitenbach River.  Use your Junior Pocket Microscope (Model 3a) to count the ducks.

The Breitenbach River had a family of ducks in it.  Mummy Duck, Daddy Duck and n Ducklets.  Until some unidentified feathery pirate dropped out of the sky, after which there were n-1.  This bit ends at Detroit.  No, not that one.  No car factories or Motown studio here.  Just OR-22, on which I had the misfortune to be stuck behind a Chevy van driven by someone with a haphazard idea of lane discipline - worrying as there's only one in each direction - and a haircut which, in silhouette, bore an altogether remarkable resemblance to that formerly sported by footballer Jason Lee:

I managed to overtake Jason before heading onto US-20 and then OR-126.  Last year the weather was starting to look distinctly not-convertible-friendly; this year it was still gloriously warm and sunny on reaching the Sahalie Falls on the McKenzie River.  Parts of them look like this:

Approaching McKenzie Bridge, however, the sky was turning a bit, well, smoky.  Surely the NF-19, aka the Aufderheide Forest Drive could not be closed again?

Oh.  Aufderheide?  Arsederscheisse, more like!  Back onto 126 towards Springfield and fifty extra miles.  Though I did get to see this, which was nice.

And so onto US-58, which is nice to look at but lumpy and twisty and not provided with sufficient passing lanes, so when you are second in the queue behind some roaster towing one of those collapsable caravan contraptions which is a foot wider than his mirrors, thereby preventing him from seeing the mile-long queue of Angry People being Angry as his speed varied, seemingly randomly, between 35 and 60 mph, you get angry too.  "If only there had not been burny fiery DETH, I would have missed all this nonse" I thought, before realising that the south end of the Aufderheide debouches onto US-58 anyway.  D'oh.

Still, Emily tells me that all I have to do is keep driving along US-58 until I'm 400 yards from my destination.  "Hurrah!" I thought.  "At least I won't have to do that detestable bit of US-97 which I have grown to hate bigly over the years!"  Shortly thereafter, the 58 merges with the 97 in a manner subtle enough not to attract Emily's attention.  Piss.  It's enough to make you do this:

Anyway I'm here now and it's only 600 km to Battle Mountain.  Unless Mike Sova can't get anyone else to give him a lift from Reno, in which case it's 800.