In eastern Oregon, there are so few people and so much land, the silence is only broken by the sound of our wheels turning and the wind blowing through the trees. We were surprised to find that when we go under electric wires, they are making a buzzing sound. We thought maybe we were mistaken but it happened more than once.

We pass all kinds of roads with funny names like “Telephone Road” and “Screeech Alley Loop”
And lots of others I can’t remember. We were in for sure the middle of nowhere in the forested mountains when all of a sudden there was a brown (like National Park Service brown) that said “Social Security Point”. It seemed dangerously out of place like a camouflage for the KKK or something. I have heard that OR has the largest KKK membership but why? there are no African American people here, really.

We’ve passed through rattlesnake Creek and Murderers Creek and always there is a river running by our road. We are now by the Powder River and often go to sleep with the sound of a river running by. We are riding on back roads which is why we are hardly ever near a real town but today we are in a 9,000 person town and it feels gigantically awful and crass (although we are looking forward to the health food store and I am at a cafe where I am having the first real cup of coffee in a week).
We are hanging here as we are taking the bus to Missoula, Montana tomorrow because Noah wants to go home. It’s amazing to have some free time. When we are on the road we are doing everything as fast as we can. Taking down camp, packing, riding furious to get to our destination in daylight, then setting up camp. Now we are relaxing and it feels right.