The Oregon of my dreams.

Aug 23

I didn't realize that 2/3rds of Oregon is just like the rest of the western states...brown, dry and dry.  I was told many times that most of the state is "high desert"...even though I had really figured it out myself already.













Anyway, all is forgiven because we have finally made it over the beautiful Cascade range and have settled for the night in the guest apartment of local cyclists that we happened to meet at a hardware store while purchasing alcohol for the camp stove.

Eugene is a pretty nice town with a busy extensive greenway system and cyclists everywhere.  I like it.  It's interesting for me because my paternal grandparents lived in Eugene when I was just a pig-tailed mountain kid.  They  moved to Reno in  my teen years and I don't see now why...but I'm sure they had their reasons.

Tomorrow we head off as early as possible for an 80  mile assault on Florence and the Pacific Ocean.  If you don't already know, the Oregon coast is not like the North Carolina coast.  There is no Piedmont that slips quietly and peacefully downward for 100 or so miles to a sandy, warm coast.   Our trip will feature wooded hills almost all the way.  Wish us luck.

Oregon...nothing new to report.

Aug 18

Nothing new to report.  Oregon started as Idaho ended...brown, bumpy, a little too hot.  It will get better.  Here are some pictures to tide you over. 

 

Our ride into Baker City passed the official Oregon Trail monument...photo  bombed by a club rider.

 

New kicks for Betty in Baker City.  They are 1.25 instead of 1.5 and I can feel the loss of cushion but also some increase in efficiency.  Thank you, Justin and Sam for keeping me rolling the last 20 hot, dry and hot miles into Baker City.

 

A welcome station just east of town.  A little tacky but had the virtue of shade.

 

Riding through fossil country and stopped to do a little roadside "fossiking" at a promising location.  Sam found a leaf print in the hardened volcanic ash. 

Tomorrow we ride a short day to have time to stop and explore the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument and visitor center. Then on to Mitchell.

In Idaho

August 12

Having completed our rites at the ACA headquarters, we turned our bikers south (south!) to pass along the 'backside' of the Bitterroot range and on toward Idaho.

Up to Chief Joseph Pass and into Idaho on a hot day.  A hot day in the mountains always means afternoon showers and down the other side was accompanied by a lightening show...followed by much helicopter action as the lightening almost always starts a fire somewhere.

At the Idaho visitors center, we met some friendly and curious folks on a historical bus tour.  They were retracing the steps of Lewis & Clark, or as least as much as could be from a tour bus.  Their destination for the day was Lochsa Lodge.  What a coincidence! that was our destination too!  So, as we coasted down the beautiful valley toward the Lochsa river, I was thinking of this large bus full of history buffs and wondering if they'd gobbled up all of the little log cabins that the Lodge offers.  They had.

Fortunately, the storm had passed with little rain and we settled in our tent behind the very, very small store.  We bought showers for $5 (includes towel and a small bar of soap) and skipped the $25.00 lodge meals in favor of eating food that we had carried up the pass.

The next day, we pedaled beside the Lochsa river all day and stopped several times to swim.  The waterway is beautiful and the river was so clear we could see the rocks on the bottom from pretty high on the road.  It was a clear day and a starry night sky looked eminent so we camped again; this time we stayed at a campground in Lowell which had crappy showers but good company (and a pool that we didn't use because we had splashed our 66 mile way there.

Saturday was more river...this time up and over a pass and down the other side on a shockingly steep and curvy (blessedly empty) backroad to White Bird, ID where we stopped for burger (no bun) and fries. then on to the Salmon River to follow it upstream for 56 for hot but splashy miles to Riggins.

Riggins has a grand bridge and is really just a dot on the map in grand scheme of things but apparently a really BIG deal in the paddling world.  Such a big deal, infact, that in a town whose population is 400+ there are 7 (no lie) motels and 3 campgrounds.  We got the last tent site in the whole place and were happy to have it...it overlooked a roaring curve in the Salmon River.

Today was a short day up to a high valley town called New Meadows.  It is on the way to a nice lake (read: lots of big trucks pulling big boats). It's other claim to fame is that it sits halfway between the equator and the north pole.

Montana....not Wyoming.

Aug 6

Over the past several days, we have relived some of our least favorite parts of other states.  Allow me to sum it up as concisely as possible:  1. brown, 2. dry, 3. too warm during the day, 4. sagebrush.

I have repeatedly referred to Wyoming as "Kansas with a view" and Montana continued the legacy but without the benefit of wide shoulders and National Parks.  The exception to this has been the Bitterroot Mountains.  In addition to having a plentitude of double letters in the name, they are also quite lovely.  Like the Tetons but with a more relaxed, mature look.

I also found Montanans to be much like Coloradans...that is to say, in a hurry to get somewhere distant to do something extremely (!) important and seriously irritated that I should dare to be using the road at a slower speed.  Luckily, there are so few people, that passing is a relatively safe affair.

When we arrived in Missoula (pop 59,000) yesterday evening (6:30pm !) we stopped at the grocery and were greeted in the parking lot by an older, very eager, cycling couple who immediately asked, "How's Montana treating you?" with the expectant smile of one who lives in a cycling crazed town.  Sam and I exchanged an urgent and calculating look...tell the truth or be nice?....we opted for nice.

"They've been okay...."<slightly distressed look> hurridly I added, "but Wyoming is hard to beat."  This was meant to smooth over the distress, but with a knitted brow the husband asked,  "How so?" so, of course, I mentioned Wyoming's wide shoulders and scenery and services and failed to say that Montana drivers rival Kentucky drivers for poor skill and that the shoulders that do exist are too rough and some of the towns smell like Kansas (as in, not good).  Still, Montana does know how to set up coffee houses and this may be their redemption.  Also, Dillon MT is home to the very, very tasty and, now, much loved Taco Bus.

Today is the day we went to cyclo-touring mecca.  I refer, of course, to Adventure Cycling Association World Headquarters...note that World bit.  We had our photos taken (twice), were presented with a free bandana in one of five colors, drank a free (tepid) diet coke and had our bikes weighed.  This was the shocking part.

It even looks like a temple.

We had been presented with a photo waiver/ survey which, among other things, asked us to estimate our bikes weight.  I guessed 70, Sam guessed 75 lbs.  In actuality, mine weighed 80 (OMG!) and Sam's weighed in at a supremely plump 100 lbs! (Double OMG!)

Sam executes his rites by submitting to photographing.

And what do you think we did about this?  We went to the health food store and bought more food because the next three days of riding features very widely spaced services but fabulous scenery as we head along the Lochsa River toward Grangeville, Idaho.

Vacationland, USA

July 31

On July 21st, we each paid $12.00 for a 7 day National Park bicycle pass.  It could be used to get, by bicycle, into Grand Tetons NP and Yellowstone provided you are out before the permit expires.  For the full 7 days of our park passes, we rode or walked around with our mouths gaping and a camera never far from grasp.

In a rare exercise of parsimony, we rolled through the west entrance (in our case, exit) of Yellowstone at 5:30pm on July 30.  We only needed to pedal 40-ish miles to West Yellowstone and we spent the day making our wandering way.  We stopped to see Old Faithful erupt again and also tour the geyser/spring basin there.

Old Faithful Inn...a little heavy handed on the woodwork for my taste.

Then we rode a 1.5 mile "backcountry" bicycle path over to another steamy feature.  We swam twice in the Firehole River (delicious). We were both saturated with visual stimuli and needed a break from the grandeur and beauty...also, we needed to get away from Vacationland.

SQUEE....It's babies!

You actually cross the state line within the Park boundary

Today we pedaled 71 miles over to Ennis, MT which is wildly popular with the fly-fishing crowd.  We followed the Madison River passed an earthen avalanche caused by a quake in the 50's, dodged an electrical storm at the Cameron Post Office and finally rolled into Ennis about 6pm.  Talk about burning the midnight oil...this is late for us. Not quite out of Vacationland, but getting close.

Tetons really are Grand

July 24

Yesterday we left the brown, dusty "icky bits" of Wyoming behind and crossed the Togwotee Pass.  Just at the summit of the climb, we saw a mom bear and two cubs off in the middle distance of a high meadow.  We watched them for a bit but they were too far away and we didn't have field glasses.  If you looked at the Virginia pictures, you may have seen the small binoculars in the original 7lbs of "superfluous" gear.

A few miles further and we made a broad sweep left and the Teton Range jumped into view.  They are breathtaking and I instantly loved them.  Still do.

Today we entered the national park properly.  By that I mean paying  $12 per bike for a 7 day pass, but we'll use it again to get into Yellowstone <squeal>.  After running that gauntlet, we stopped at the Pacific Creek put in outhouse and promptly met some folks from the Penny Road area of Cary...small world.

My mouth is dry from riding all day with it wide open in wonderment.  I wish words could convey just how larger than life and regal these peaks are.  More than a passing acquaintance with the Tetons on the TransAm requires a 35 mile extra credit ride (mostly bike path) to Jackson, WY and it is totally worth it.  We passed beautiful and well appointed campgrounds, lakes, fields, a National Fish Hatchery and an Elk Preserve.

Tonight we are housed in a smallish 1930's log cottage in downtown Jackson at a place called Kudar ,which I want to pronounced Koo-dar but the innkeep insists it is Koodur (like kooter, but softer on the second syllable).

I put more pictures on the flickr page...please take a look and let me know if you can't get to it.

A tale of two religions

June 20

We rode to Jeffrey City, WY today which has 100 or so citizens made entirely, I'm sure, of people who like (even prefer) their alone time.  Oddly, this town has twice the population of Riverside but none of the comforts saving two things:  a cafe/bar with a dog and iced tea in a mason jar (how about that, Tom?) and a First Baptist Church bicycle hostel.  What it has in plentitude is sand, brown landscape and sand.

Jeffrey City is a stop in the middle of a mostly empty stretch from Rawlins to Lander, WY, but what it lacks in people and comforts, it makes up for in history.  About 2/3 way along, we stopped at Muddy Gap.  This meant absolutely zero beyond cold drinks, but is alive with history as it sits in a crossroads between several accesses to a route that served (at various times) as The Pony Express Route, The Oregon Trail, The Mormon Trail (about which later) and The California Trail and now, of course, The Trans Am.  Muddy Gap has a couple of houses and one convenience store which serves as gas station/gift shop/museum/rooms (in the form of a single-wide trailer parked out back).  While we were taking a break and eating our traditional 'on the road' foods, a couple drove up wearing what is referred to as "Period Clothing".  They were part of a cooking committee for a group of trekkers.  They said they would be cooking for 350.  My jaw dropped but, as it turns out, about 80,000 Mormons (yep, you read that right) travel to this area to do a thing they call "trek"(walk a portion of the Mormon Trail) with or without a handcart, with or without load.

When we arrived at Jeffrey City, we went directly to the cafe/bar and had tea in the aforementioned mason jars.  I was told by the proprietor that the church had stopped taking cyclists.  She tutted about a group coming through a week or so ago and getting "smashed here, and then went back to the church".  Apparently, the pastor did not approve.  I decided not to phone him (whom I had just spoken to the day before) as promised, but just show up.  My logic was that if he had decided we were a shiftless, untrustworthy group best avoided, then he would have to turn us away in person.  Secretly, I was relying on the famed girl scout effect to get beyond any challenges.  Access turned out not to be an issue, but this sign was on the door:

There was an air of "anxiously waiting for August 1" so even though we needed a day off and this one would be acceptably affordable at whatever value we chose to give it (these things are donation based) we decided to move on.  The following morning, we passed Sweetwater Station/Sixth Crossing.  Sixth crossing is the approximate location of, ironically enough, the sixth crossing of the Sweetwater River en route to Zion;  here a Mormon party (The Willie party, I believe) got stranded in an early snowstorm and had what you could call a really tough time (though not Donner party tough) until a rescue group from Salt Lake City arrived.  Anyway, you can see the original path that the four routes used zigging the landscape.  At Sweetwater Station, we found a camping area, and a sixth crossing museum/visitor center/missionary work center and saw more trekkers and met a George Bush (the younger) look alike from Boone, NC.

We were hustled inside to sit in the cool, sign the guestbook, view the 7 minute video about the Willie Party and consider the representative 17lbs of personal effects each member of the party was permitted to bring.  I thought about my own personal effects...possibly a little more than 17lbs...if you include the knitting needle/yarn, MP3 player and netbook.  

The Mormons were so friendly and the field by the river so green and lush that we could easily have stayed and tried the carts ourselves; but we were low on provisions and (as noted on the map) no services in Sweetwater.  Besides, I wasn't really dressed for it.

As a consolation, we filled our water bottles.  Ahead lay another 40 miles of brown under cloud cover to Lander, WY and a rest day.