I am writing this post from Sister’s Coffee Company in Sisters, OR. They have everything I need: plenty of coffee, a delicious breakfast sandwich, a bike rack, power outlets, and WiFi.

GETTING THERE: It’s All About logistics!

On May 30, 2017, I flew with my bike and gear to Portland, OR.

Beforehand, my wife and I, and a very close friend from NOAA (and owner of a very nice truck) met at my local bike shop. Since I had purchased my bike at Bikenetic in Falls Church, VA, from a seasoned cycling professional named Jacob, I asked him to crate the bike for transport on the plane as checked baggage.

I can’t say enough about how fabulous Bikenetic is in terms of professionalism and customer service!  I purchased a Kona Sutra (cool black cherry red color) based on Jacob’s recommendation.  I also appreciate his maintenance tips so I could be self-sufficient on the road. Here’s a selfie of me, store owner Jan, and Jacob (and, yes, this is a ringing endorsement for the shop!):

My wife, friend, and I proceeded to Reagan National Airport so that I could check in the bike 4 hours before the flight.  Alaska Airlines has one of the most bike-friendly baggage rules and the check in process was extremely customer friendly. After check in, we enjoyed a very nice lunch at the airport.

Before proceeding through security, I assured my wife that I would be fine. In our 35+ years of marriage, we’ve only been separated for a period of months once before, when I deployed to Iraq in 2004.  This occasion wasn’t quite as dramatic but our parting reminded me of that anxious time.

Because of TSA flight rules, my carry on baggage contained lots of battery and lithium battery powered devices and spares. These items made it through screening without concern.  Interestingly enough, my freeze-dried camp food did attract secondary screening.

The plane ride was superb. Being one who normally is asleep before wheels up, I decided to stay awake to accelerate my adjustment to the 3-hour time change. I had a very nice conversation with an Oregonian, a Navy veteran, in the adjacent seat.  The flight arrived 30 minutes early (way to go, Alaska Airlines)!

My original plan was to assemble the bike and my gear, dump the bike box and luggage at the airport, and cycle to the hotel. I later noticed that the hotel had a free shuttle, and I called and found that they could handle my boxed bike with ease. The shuttle driver’s name was Craig and he was terrific.  And the hotel (Red Lion Hotel Portland Airport) accommodated my request for a first floor room for easy bike access.

By the time I got checked into my room, the effects of the time change started to kick in.  It was all I could do to uncrate the bike, assemble the major components, and check everything for proper operation. Thanks to Jacob, the bike made the journey in perfect condition (and I appreciated the encouraging note he placed in an empty water bottle). I dashed off to the Sky Jockey Lounge for a quick bite to eat, and then crashed (in the bed, not on the bike!).

I awoke at 0330 Pacific Daylight Time (3:30 am for my civilian friends). I completed assembly of the bike, packed and loaded my gear, disposed of the bike box in the dumpster, and donated in my empty luggage to an eager receptionist at the hotel front desk. My test ride in the parking lot was most satisfactory.

Day 1: A Great Start!

My goal for the day was to bike south to connect to the TransAmerica Trail Map in Rickreall. The first 10 miles or so were in Portland city traffic.  I stopped by Walmart to purchase camp fuel and waterproof matches.  Biking conditions were safe enough; let’s just say that I am glad that I have a rear view mirror! The vast majority of drivers were very accommodating, but I have to note the few jerks who yelled unkind words or burned rubber while passing. Such is the bane of bicyclists, probably everywhere!

It was an interesting ride.  A very large raccoon crossed my path on a busy city street, dashing towards the safe haven of a tire shop. I was amazed by the number of cannabis stores that I passed along the way.

Since I was riding “off the map,” I relied on Google Maps to route me. Google Maps has a useful function for bikers but their routes didn’t minimize the elevation climbs for me, particularly in Oregon City. These climbs were just a mild taste of what was to come!

Because I was using my phone to navigate, I had to monitor battery consumption, and ended up hooking my phone up to a 10000 mAh power charger.  Next to water (and probably food), electrical power is a modern biker’s most useful commodity (phone, bike computer, heart rate monitor, etc).

Oregon is very bike friendly state. In towns and neighborhoods along the way, I came across bike stations complete with tire pumps and tools, like this one in Canby, OR:

Once I left the city, Mount Hood was in my rear view mirror. My legs felt strong and full of stamina but I decided on a “cruiser speed” pace, a departure from my “go fast as you can” training regimen.  The weather was clear and temperature “biker cool.” I battled a headwind (southerly) but didn’t mind because of the scenes of rivers, streams, and crops (mostly hops I’m told).

During a water stop along the way, I decided to modify the plan and bike a little further to a biking camp in Independence, OR. My thought was that it was be most appropriate for my first stop of the journey to be in a place called Independence.

Day 1 ended at a total of 72 miles.  Here’s the signage at the bike/boater camp, which is located on the banks of the Willamette River:

Once I stopped, I was beset with a severe attack of hay fever, an obvious reaction to the steady stream of pollen that I rode through and the sudden change of venue. I hadn’t experienced the degree of puffy and red eyes since I was a child, and later as an Academy cadet aboard the Coast Guard Barque Eagle while sailing through dust storms coming off the African continent.

The host at the Independence Bike Park was a very kind gentleman named Con.  I set up camp, took a nap to allow my swollen eyes to recover, and proceeded to Mangiare Restaurant for a meal of lasagna and lime sherbet.

I slept like a baby, noting only the occasional rain. I must say that the fabulous one-person tent (Eureka Amari Pass Solo Tent) kept me and my stuff dry.  The bike was outside the tent but it weathered the storms quite nicely.

Day 2: Water, Water Every Where; Nor Any Drop To Drink!

Since I was a bit ahead of my intended schedule, I again changed my plans to bike to Eugene, OR.  My eyes were still a bit puffy but I felt good enough to proceed with the journey.

As I was leaving Independence, I saw a most curious sight: a white rabbit with iridescent red eyes grazing within feet of the road in an unfenced yard. I couldn’t help but think of the plethora of roadkill that I encountered. I exchanged pleasant greetings with the wayward bunny and continued along my way.

I stopped at McDonald’s for coffee and breakfast. This was the first time that I noticed a significant loss of appetite, a condition that would last for 3-4 days. Food powers cyclists so I essentially ate by forced feeding to work through this period. I attributed this temporary loss of appetite to the time change.

Once clear of Independence, I was treated to beautiful Oregon rolling hills and fields of goats, horses and a few cows. Crops included grass seed, hops, and blueberries. I endured a stiff wind off my starboard beam for most of the ride.

Bikers live for water stops.  At every opportunity, I top off my water bottles. I carry emergency water as a contingency.  During this ride, I experienced my first disconcerting “no water zone” while on Peoria Road.  I couldn’t help but look over at the streams and rivers along the way and think of the emergency water filter that I packed in my gear as a final option.

The McKenzie River was my near constant companion for the day:

And I marveled at the beauty of Oregon’s covered bridges (this is the Goodpasture Bridge):

My water anxiety was alleviated when I ran across a convenience mart.  I topped off my water and consumed Gatorade and a Snickers bar as a supplement. During this stop, I made calls to firm up my sleeping arrangements, deciding to reserve a room at a hotel to dry out my camping gear. This ended up being a wise choice.

When I arrived in Eugene, OR, I experienced some confused routing using Google Maps while trying to find the hotel. My paper maps are a handy backup, along with my trained sailor’s eye. I must admit to navigating by the sun on more than one occasion thus far.

I arrived at the hotel and was warmly greeted by the receptionist, Shannon.  The room was sufficiently large to lay out my camping gear to dry.  I washed laundry in the sink. After getting cleaned up, and putting eye drops in my puffy eyes, I walked down the street to Papa’s Soul Food Kitchen to eat a Soul Food burger and fries. Still not hungry but it was delicious!

Again, I enjoyed a very restful sleep.

Day 3: Now The Hard Part Begins

I awoke at 0630 (consistently alarm unaided). I was amazed that my all of my gear, including laundry, was completely dry. This was going to be a good day.

Shannon and the hotel surprised me by having coffee, bananas, and danish available for guests in the lobby. Once fortified for the journey, I embarked on a relatively shorter, but steeper ride to McKenzie Bridge, OR. The journey was a gradual climb, and the trees made for lighter winds.

Early in the journey, I enjoyed my first encounter with fellow touring cyclists, Miguel and an older gentleman. They were on their first day of cycling and their somewhat tentative comments to me reflected the anxiety that I felt on my first day. We took a bit of a detour together and at some point, I opted for a faster pace and zoomed ahead.

Later in the journey, two touring cyclists from Colorado caught up to me.  In our very brief conversation, we shared that we were heading to the same destination. They were much younger and more fit; I thought to myself, “Now those were the days.” As they zoomed away, and as is characteristic for many cyclists, one of the Coloradans took note that we were riding the same rig, Kona Sutra. Cyclists frequently check out each other’s gear; this is a trait that I abandoned many years ago. I am now much more into function over form!

As I progressed upward along the McKenzie River, the scenery was breathtaking. This was the first day that I glimpsed snow capped peaks in the distance (this scene freaked me out a bit). Farms were populated with goats, sheep, and alpaca. They were my companions for much of the journey.

I had little success in making sleeping arrangements on the road; I even made a panicked call to a cabin facility but they were all booked.  I decided to go to the McKenzie River Camping Station, a federal facility with minimalist camping accommodations.  There was no electrical power.  The potable water was provided via well. And the restroom was a building-encased outhouse with no sink.  For what I needed, this was perfect!

As I approached McKenzie Bridge, I didn’t notice that I had lost phone service.  I knew that by pressing the “Mission Complete” button on my satellite GPS, that my wife would know that I made it safely to today’s destination.

Dinner was freeze-dried beef stroganoff brought back to edibility by hot water.  It was actually pretty good and I noticed that my appetite had returned a bit.

Day 4: OK, Marines, Pain is Weakness Leaving the Body- But Come On!

I awoke at 0520 to be greeted by a briskly cold mountain morning.  I enjoyed a meal of freeze-dried breakfast combo: potatoes, eggs, and sausage.  It was as delicious as dinner.  I also enjoyed a cup of freeze-dried coffee, my first instant coffee in many years.  The last time that I enjoyed camp meals like this was as a Boy Scout, and later Assistant Scoutmaster for our three sons. I felt like an old hand at camping and appreciate all the training and mentoring shared by my Scoutmaster in DC, the late James Queen.

As I began the day’s ride, I was fixated on getting through my first mountain pass.  After reflecting on those snow-capped peaks, and running across the following sign, I chose to add 20 miles to my journey by taking a detour that cut a not-so-meager 500 feet off my climb.

My first sign of progress was the following elevation sign.

The climb to 2000 feet was relatively easy.  The next 2,800 feet to the pass- not so!

It ended up being a day of relatively steady and hard climbing.  The legs were good for the journey but I had to be sparing with water use since I was sweating profusely, even in cool temperatures, and there were no facilities between me and my intended destination. My body was like a hot-running motor but I found the cool mountain breezes to be most welcome.

This was the challenge that I was seeking… to push myself physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually… all while seeing this nation from the perspective of a cyclist.

My spirits were uplifted as I approached the Santiam Mountain Pass. Here is a view from one of my numerous breaks taken near the top of the summit:

As I approached the top, my cell service returned.  I called my wife (she had been tracking my progress).  And I made camping arrangements since I didn’t want to experience any “where am I going to sleep” anxiety after a hard day’s ride. This was after I was quoted an exorbitant price to stay at a local motor lodge.

And I celebrated getting to the top, 4,800 feet, though I was disappointed not to come across a marker to help me record the achievement.  In any event, I was rewarded with a downhill run of 6 to 7 miles where I effortlessly achieved speeds topping 30 mph.  At the end, I had a relatively easy 10 mile ride into Sisters.  By that time, my main water supply was depleted so I decided to stop at McDonalds.  Low and behold, I was ravenously hungry, as biker’s are more accustomed to be,  so I decided to call it dinner.

When I arrived at the Sister’s Creek Campground, I was greeted by Cynthia, the camp host.  After a day of challenging riding, I made the instant call to stay overnight for two nights. The next planned ride approaches 100 miles and includes some climbing and I want to have relatively fresh legs.

Once at camp, I met a father and son, Carl and Ben, who were on Day 6 of their ride from Astoria OR.  They were both riding Kona Sutra’s and we chatted about how great the bicycles are.  We also compared notes about what’s ahead in the journey. Carl expressed some anxiety about the next day’s ride.  His fit and trim 18-year old son, who had just graduated high school, seemed most unfazed about the upcoming challenge. I’m with Carl on this one!

After setting up camp and getting cleaned up (I appreciated the 2-minute shower for 4 quarters), I enjoyed a great night’s sleep. Sister Creek Campground facilities are first rate!

Day 5: Out of An Abundance of Caution

I awoke at 0730 and felt as if I had aggressively biked for four days.  I was delighted with my decision to take a break, out of an abundance of caution.

My first stop of the day was Sister’s Coffee Company, where I took up residence for a few hours to catch up on email and write this blog post. As I complete this passage, I am starting to feel like a million bucks, again!

Here’s hoping for stronger, faster, and better days ahead!