Five days, finally a computer

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!

T minus eleven hours

Tomorrow morning is time to hit the road.  I ditched work a couple hours early today to finish up the last minute preparations, and tomorrow morning I start my two week bike trip.  My ever-supportive wife Shelley will drop me off in Estacada, OR on her way to work, and from there I head east on Hwy 224, eventually headed to Frenchglen, OR.  My proposed route will take me through the painted hills and the fossil beds, areas I have passed through before but have never really taken the time to SEE them.  When I hit John Day I will head south through and past Burns in to the high sagebrush desert of Oregon.

I love not only the raw beauty of this area, but the history as well.  Homesteaders, cattle barons, sheep stations, cavalry outposts and Indian wars.  Hart Mountain antelope refuge, bird sanctuaries, Kiger mustangs, the Borax Lake chub for the animal enthusiast.  Fans of flora are not to be disappointed either, with sagebrush, rabbit brush, Indian paintbrush, primrose, and thousand year old junipers.  The Frenchglen hotel, where Shelley and I have reservations for the final weekend of this journey, dates back the to lat 19th century, and is currently owned by the Oregon State Parks and Recreation Department.

Follow along on this blog.  As I get Internet access along the way, I will update with pictures and stories from the road.  I have a general route in mind, but overall I am keeping the plans pretty loose so I can just let the ride happen.

To be continued....

Bikes on the Mississippi

Avenue that is, not the river.  I did not get to take part in much of Pedalpalooza ( http://www.shift2bikes.org/cal/viewpp2011.php ) this year, but I did get to check out the goings on Sunday on Mississippi Avenue.  The street was blocked off for a sort of mini cyclovia prior to the start of the officially festivities, and closed streets usually mean parking nightmares.  Not so for this event: 

There was even room to spare:

Local author Joe "Metal Cowboy" Kurmaskie did duty as grand marshal for the art bike parade, followed by some most interesting examples of pedal powered art.

Bikes can be serious too, and the cargo bikes showed some serious ingenuity and capacity.  On a warm day, my favorite non-racing entry has to be this:

Yes, I said that was my favorite non-racing cargo bike.  Next up was the cargo bike race, in which the racers were required to stop at the ReBuilding center to pick up their load of recycled building supplies, mostly plumbing, and continue laden through the course.

The competition was fierce as the racers stood for the sprint, wringing every available bit of speed from their finely tuned machines.



The wrap up for the day was the critereum racing, an OBRA sanctioned event that brought out a number of the local fast guys (and gals) on the rain slicked course.  I've never watched a crit that did not include some carnage, and this was no exception.  I have not heard reports of any serious injuries, but there were crashes enough to thin the fields.  I hope that as this blog continues the quality of the photography will improve, but here are a couple attempts at action shots during the race.

All in all, an enjoyable overview of local cycling fun, with something for everyone, no matter your shape or size.

Taco Pedaler

Ahh, Portland, land of the bicycle, land of the food cart and the land of some really cool mash-ups.  Shelley and I were looking for lunch on Sunday when we stumbled upon the Taco Pedaler trikes.

These two trikes, one serving as the prep cart, the other as the hot food line, turn out some pretty incredible food.  We both opted for the special- one taco, one "dilla" (think English pasty meets Mexican food), chips and salsa.  Shelley chose the chicken for her taco, and I went for the pork.  The chicken was good, very good, but the pork was fantastic.  Probably the best Mexican inspired pork I have had locally, and there is plenty around to compare it to.  Vegetarians and vegans are not forgotten either, but I will have to visit again to give a first hand report on that fare.  Based on my experience thus far, I'm not dreading the task!

These are functional and mobile tricycles, so they move around.  Check out their website to see where they can be found, you will be happy you did.  http://tacopedalerpdx.com/

Day Tripping

Well, I am not getting this update posted as soon as I had hoped, but better late than never.

Saturday the 4th I decided to go for a longish ride.  Shelley (my long-suffering wife) had plans to spend the day with some of her friends, and we finally got some decent weather, so what better way to spend the day.

I had Shelley drop me at a starting point along the Springwater Corridor in Portland to begin the journey.  The Springwater is a Multi Use Path that runs from the Willamette river in southeast Portland eastward to the town of Boring.  It is fairly flat, and car free other than where it crosses roads.  It can get crowded on a nice day, and especially on a nice weekend day, but I hit it early enough to miss most of the crowds and was able use it to get out of Portland quickly and simply.

From Boring I continued east on highway 22 to hwy 26.  26 is a busier road than I usually like to ride on, but it generally has wide shoulders and good enough site lines that I felt safe among the traffic.  The first goal was to get to the town of Sandy for a refuel stop at Joe's Donuts.  Joe's is kind of a landmark, and you can get a little bit of real food in addition to donuts.  One breakfast burrito and an old-fashioned donut later I was on my way again, almond bearclaw safely tucked away in the handlebar bag for later.

Still on hwy 26, I was soon reminded of the best thing about traveling this route:

Mt. Hood, as viewed from hwy 26

It did not take long to remember the one drawback to riding towards the highest point in the state:  it is uphill from anywhere you start.  I also realized that I had heard the parts of the morning's weather forecast I wanted to hear, namely "sunny and highs approaching 80 degrees", and completely disregarded the part about "winds from the east".  Oops.  Made for a long slog up the hill, but I kept getting closer, and the view kept getting better:

My route coincided with one of the old wagon roads from the early settlement of the west, and one of the joys of traveling by bicycle is the ease with which you can stop at anything that looks interesting.  Indeed, any excuse to stop for a moment was welcome by this point.  This historical marker explained the challenges faced by early travelers on this route:

By this point I wasn't thinking that current day travel by bike was that easy either.  It was definitely getting time to find some lunch.  Government camp was not too far away, and is home to a pretty decent brewpub.  One of the many joys of bike travel is getting to eat enough to fuel the trip.  I could hear the beer and a burger calling my name.

Government Camp isn't much of a town, it basically survives due to the ski areas on Mt. Hood.  If you need food, beverage or ski equipment you are pretty well covered.  Much of anything else, forget it.  Still, history abounds here as well, enough so to merit their own wooden sign:

At this point I had covered 58 miles, and climbed about 3,800 feet.  After a sizable lunch I headed on, just a few more miles on hwy 26 until I turned off on to hwy 35 headed to Hood River.  The climbing part of the ride was almost done, or so I thought.

Hwy 35 has much less traffic than 26, but narrower shoulders and more gravel and debris along the edges.  Despite the refuel stop, the legs were protesting the climb and I was ready to head down hill.  As a cylcotourist, you learn to love the sign that promises "Right Lane Ends", as that usually means that the climb ends as well.  Even more promising is the summit sign:

The Summit was welcome news, and access to Barlow Road, another old wagon route, sounded interesting as well.  The pannier on the side held enough extra food, water and clothing to allow a bit of exploration, so on towards Barlow Road I went.

Not today.



That was a short lived detour. We have had an incredibly wet, cold spring and even though the main roads are snow free, this one has received no attention from the plows.  In retrospect, it is probably as well that I hit the snow right away, as it minimized the miles spent backtracking to the main highway.

Back to hwy 35, but at least I was at the summit.  Summit means top, right?  So it should be all downhill from here.  Emphasis must be placed on the SHOULD.  Yes, there was a nice bit of coasting after the summit sign, but it was followed all too soon by a climb up another spur on the east side of Mt. Hood.  Finally, the road did truly head down hill to the Hood River Valley, one of Oregon's major fruit producing regions.  The orchards I remembered from growing up nearby are still there, but a more recent addition to local agriculture is the vineyard.  Tempting as it was to avail myself of some of the tasting rooms at the wineries I passed, the time was getting late, and Shelley was expecting to meet me in the town of Hood River.

Mt. Hood was behind me, but that does not mean I was done with mountain views to draw me on along the road:

Mt. Adams from Hwy 35

The best thing about looking at Mt Adams was knowing that it is in Washington, on the other side of the Columbia river, and not on my route for today.  Another time with fresh legs perhaps, but that is a ride and a story for another day.

An uneventful ride on in to Hood River where Shelley was waiting for me to load the bike up on the car (sorry, no bike ride back home on this trip), and share a meal before heading home for a well deserved nights sleep.

Welcome to the VeloRedux blog!

Well, now I have my own little chunk of cyberspace so I too can share my views with the world.  While this blog is being started as a way to share pictures and stories from the road during an upcoming bicycle tour, I will keep it up as a way to share my thoughts, opinions and views, primarily on bicycles and cycling, but also on other topics as I feel the need.  The plan is to include plenty of pictures too.

Since the bike trip later this month is the motivator behind starting this blog, I will start with the basic plan behind the trip.  I love central and eastern Oregon, but it seems like I only get to pass through the Steens Mountain area.  Being blessed with a job that provides plenty of paid vacation and and understanding wife, I decided to take a couple of weeks to bicycle from my home near Molalla, OR to French Glen, traveling through the Painted Hills and the John Day fossil beds.  I am keeping the planning pretty loose, I have a route in mind, and more than enough time to get there so I can stop to smell the roses (or sagebrush and juniper more likely).

For the bike geeks, I am riding a Kona Sutra for this trip.  The Sutra is a steel framed, disk braked bike designed for loaded touring.  It is a bit on the heavy side, but stiff and stable under touring loads, and rugged enough for whatever may pass for a road on my travels.  Many touring riders shun disk brakes, but living in the Pacific NorthWet (yes, I meant to spell it that way) I can't imagine trying to tour with rim brakes.  Fenders are a must as well.  This bike is a fairly new purchase for me, so no major modifications so far.  I did replace the stock WTB saddle with my well-worn Brooks, and bolted on my pump of choice, the Topeak Road Morph.  A pair of Ortleib panniers for the front, sleeping bag and tent strapped to the back, and I am ready to roll.

One thing I should make clear:  None of the companies or brands I mention in this blog are (as of 6/3/2011) providing me with any compensation of any form.  Any opinions or product reviews are based on personal experience and observation, and will be as accurate and unbiased as I can make  them.  That said, if anyone in the bike industry wants to kick some sponsorship my way I will welcome it, but my opinions are still my own, and if your product doesn't work for me I will say so.

That is enough rambling for now.  I'll try to get some pictures for the next post, make this a little more interesting