Well, it took longer to get access to a computer that works than I expected. This is day five of the trip, and I am in John Day, OR.
With four and a half days of travel behind me it is hard to know where to begin. The fact that I am making this update should let you all know that I am still safe and sound. I know there are some prayers being offered up on my behalf, and they seem to be working so far. No mechanical issues, no close calls with traffic, almost idyllic all in all.
Almost idyllic. Day two, from Idanha (just outside of Detroit) to Sisters was a bit challenging. Less than 55 miles, even with the climb over the Santiam pass this should not have been a major event, except I did not manage to stay ahead of the rain. The forecast 30% chance of rain felt more like 30" of rain, and I'm not sure the temperatures at the top of the pass were much above the 30's either. I was about a half hour in to the days ride when the rains started. Knowing the forecast was for showers, I stopped off at Marion Forks and hung out in the cafe, hoping it would dry up. An hour, lots of coffee and a plate of biscuits and gravy later, I decided the rain was not going away, and there was nothing to it but to do it.
Not another cyclist in site, lots of car and truck traffic on Hwy 22, and not much for visibility. When I finally spotted the junction with 20, I was tempted to pull over and try to flag down a ride in a pickup. Then just ahead I spotted a patch of that appalling neon green found only on road crews and cyclists. Okay, if someone else can do this, so can I. Some time later, I finally closed the gap to meet Laurie, one member of a group of six cyclists from Eugene headed east, with goals ranging from Baker City for 74 year old Loyd, to New York for Laurie and her husband Mike. Misery loves company, so we shared our road stories so far (this was day two for both of us), and continued coaxing our loaded touring bikes up the grade, working to stay to the right of the cars and the left of the gravel piled in the shoulder from the winter's snows. At the summit the worst of the work was over, now the challenge was dealing with wind chill. We layered up with pretty much all the clothes left in our bags, took about two pedal strokes and headed in to sisters. Conditions forced us to moderate the pace to somewhere in the mid-thirties (that seems to be the number of the day).
By Sisters it had dried out, Laurie reconnected with her group, and I went is search of calories- something that has become a major goal of this trip. Calories were in abundance as I came upon the Sisters Beer and Wine Festival. A day that started out challenging suddenly got MUCH better!
One of the goals of this trip was to talk to people, to meet people different from my normal circle. So, who do I end up camped next to? Two middle aged men on motorcycles, who ride bikes and run. Not a lot of diversity in our little group, but plenty of conversation and shared sustenance.
Heading east from Sisters on day three, everything just fell in to place. Weather was good, the roads had wide enough shoulders, and the traffic was pretty decent. Soon Redmond was behind me, then Prineville. Now the true adventure begins. Sisters to Prineville was not enough distance to call it a day, and the next town, Mitchell, was farther than I wanted to go.
Ochoco Reservoir- nice campground on the west end, cheap rates for hiker and biker sites, but still didn't feel like the right stop. East end of the reservoir: Coolest thing I have seen so far- Pelicans! I did not realize we had pelicans in Oregon, and here I find hundreds of them. The good news, I have lots of pictures. Bad news, this computer does not recognize my camera, so I can't upload them yet.
That night was a brush camp along a stream in the Ochoco National Forest. Beautiful site, deer came down to water in the morning, not another soul around.
Next morning it is up over the Ochoco divide, then down in to Mitchell, where I found Eli and Tyler, two just out of high school boys riding to Missoula, MT, and Diana, who had just finished the veterinarian program at OSU and was biking her way solo to Georgia to check out the job prospects there. Happenstance alliances seem to be the way of bike touring culture, and we continued on together, and by lunchtime found another half dozens cyclists stopped as a shady wide spot for lunch. Turned out to be Laurie and her group from the Santiam climb. I had gone from solo cyclist to one of a peloton of ten, ranging from seventeen years old to 74. Laurie and Mike had biked this route seven years earlier, and knew something the rest of us did not: the Dayville church.
At some point, Dayville Presbyterian Church realized they were on the major east-west bicycle route for cross country riders, and decided they had found their ministry opportunity. Posted by the church doors is a sign: Doors are open. Please do not lock them on your way out. Inside, the rules are simple. Clean up after yourself, no alcohol or tobacco on church grounds, and don't sleep on the pew pads. Showers, laundry facilities and the kitchen are all there for our use. Sign in on the guest book, put a donation in the box if you can. It seems like most can, since most of the appliance had tags noting they were purchased with biker donations.
Ten cyclists can spread a lot of gear all over a small church, and once all our panniers had exploded throughout the sanctuary and fellowship hall, we proceeded to clear out a large share of the inventory at the mercantile. Ten cyclist have eight ideas of how to eat on tour, so pretty much everyone was on their own. My goals are carbs for energy and protein for muscle recovery. I need to eat some veggies again sometime, but they are not my current priority.
Surprisingly, only nine of us snore. I'm not sure if I felt self-righteous or put upon, but at least I didn't keep anyone awake.
Today our paths split in John Day. The others continued east, I turn south from here. It was nice to have some company, but I am ready to return to my solo travels. John Day has some museums and historical/cultural sites I want to see, and I need to check on the water situation headed south, so I probably won't make a lot more miles today. So far, I know I love traveling by bike. The whole mindset changes. Blasting down the freeway in your car, seventy miles is a one hour blur, nothing seen, nothing really accomplished. On a bike loaded to travel, seventy miles is a good day, a day where you saw all seventy miles, and know their contours intimately.
I leave you with this:
It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them. Thus you remember them as they actually are, while in a motor car only a high hill impresses you, and you have no such accurate remembrance of country you have driven through as you gain by riding a bicycle. ~Ernest Hemingway
Until the next computer!
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