I have nowhere to go. After three months of constantly being on the move, I have a home again. I can sleep in without worrying about biking 100 miles before sunset. I can roam to the refrigerator on a whim. I can use a computer for hours without angering local librarians. I can even take a shower and do laundry whenever my hear desires.
Despite these conveniences though, I feel a void. I miss the cool mountain air of the west (which has unfortunately been replaced by the horrible humidity of the east). I miss the liberating feeling of pulling my possessions behind me as I travel from town to town. I miss having to work for every inch of ground that I traversed.
Alas, I cannot travel forever...and nor would I want to. Every adventure should have a destination, and I am relieved to have met mine. I now have a chance to relax, to take a deep breath, and to reflect on the last three months. It has been an amazing ride, and one which I will remember for the rest of my life.
No trip report would be complete without a recap of the last days though, so here is my final update...Oregon, Part II.
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Day 77, part II:
Later in the evening I went rock climbing with Dave and Eirann, a girl who used to run for Dave. All we did was drive 10 minutes to the edge of town...that’s how awesome Bend is. Here’s a shot from the climb:
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Day 78:
In the morning Dave and I headed out to hike Broken Top. We drove up the Mt. Bachelor pass to a parking lot, then rode bikes about five miles to the actual trail head. From there we hiked an off-the-grid trail along some incredible and isolated terrain to the intersection of the Broken Top trail. Once we got to the peak (traversing some snow fields in the process), we caught some pretty amazing views. Check out scenes from the hike:
Dave:
Where we're going:
Getting closer...
Mt. Bachelor:
Broken Hand:
A Mountain Lake:
The Three Sisters:
North and Middle Sister:
South Sister:
Our way down:
After arriving home, we grabbed something to eat and relaxed. With my tire troubles still in the back of my mind though, I decided to head down to a bike shop. What I didn’t tell you before was that I accidentally snapped off the valve core when I was pumping up the tire. Luckily I had already put about 60psi into the tube, so I was in good shape to make it into Bend. Looking to get the tire fully inflated, I found Sunnyside Sports, which graciously swapped out my broken core for a brand new one. Quick and easy.
Looking to kill some more time, I headed out to REI. Enticed my the 0% sales tax in Oregon, I thought I would see what the store’s offerings were. After browsing I forcibly removed myself from the store without spending a dime, and headed towards my bike. Much to my surprise, my rear tire lay flat in the parking lot.
Stuck without a spare tube in downtown Bend, and not quite knowing what to make of the situation, I grabbed the tire and walked back into REI. I found a bike mechanic and told him my story. Sympathizing, he handed me another tube and said I could have it for free. Thanking him for his generosity, I pulled off the tire, trashed my popped tube, and put the new one in. Further to my surprise, I blew a huge hole through the sidewall of the tire when I pumped up the tube to around 80psi. I guess there was a reason I replaced that tire in Moab after all...
After the deafening “POP” disrupted the bike mechanic (as well as the whole store), he walked over and surveyed the damage. Simply saying “well, you can’t ride that anymore,” he pulled the tire from me. Without hesitation he walked to a stash of new tires, pulled out the exact same model, slapped a new tube in it, put it on the rim, and pumped it up. He handed it back to me, to which I shockingly replied “what do I owe you?” His response...
“Nothing, good luck on your trip.”
And that is why I love REI....and why I also love Bend. I thanked the mechanic for helping me and hurried back to Dave to tell him my story.
That night I went down to the Bend Brewery to get a taste of the famous Bend microbrewery scene. During dinner, Luke walked in and started talking to me. Luke is the assistant cross country coach, and I had met him my first day in Bend. We talked (and drank) for the rest of the night, and since he lived closer to the brewery than Dave, I ended up crashing at his house for the night.
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Day 79:
Not wanting to overstay me welcome at Dave’s house, I took Luke up on his offer to move in. I headed to Dave’s, said my goodbyes, and brought my things over to Luke’s. Looking to get my butt kicked further, Luke directed me to Shevlin State Park on the edge of town.
I rode my bike three miles out to the park, and ran about six miles around the river basin.
Still early in the day, Luke let me borrow is car and paddle board. I drove out to a beach on the Deschutes (which runs through Bend) and popped it in the water. Having never used a paddle board before, I didn’t quite know what to expect. After all this biking though, I think my balance has substantially improved, so I got the hang of it rather quickly. It’s also apparently the new wave in water sports, so I had some substantial company going up and down the river.
After I got back to Luke’s, I changed clothes and headed back out to McMenamins, an old-fashioned theater that shows movies for $3. I ordered up some dinner and watched Super 8 (which I would definitely recommend).
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Day 80:
Being Monday, Dave and Luke had to go back to work, which left me with a very relaxing morning alone. First order of business? Look like a human again. I rode downtown and found the Bond Street Barber Shop...AKA “the most amazing place ever.”
For $22 they trimmed my hair, trimmed my beard, massaged my back, and offered me a beer (of course it was 9:00 in the morning, so I declined). This was also no quick job. I was in the chair for a legitimate hour...it was awesome. If you ever find yourself with nothing to do and want an awesome haircut, go to the Bond Street Barber Shop.
Afterwords I went to the highly recommended Thump Coffee Shop to read the paper. This was followed by a leisurely walk around the downtown area, and a bit of lounging on the beach.
My day of relaxation came to an end when Luke got off work though. I joined him for a 14 mile bike ride through some back roads around Bend. I was really starting to get used to all this bike riding without the trailer...
That night we hit the Deschutes Brewery, another microbrewery downtown. It was locals night so we got to drink awesome beer at ridiculously low prices. Not a bad way to end a night.
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Day 81:
My final day in Bend.
I called up Ian for some advice on how I should spend it, and he directed me to Smith Rock. Located about 30 miles north of Bend, it’s an incredible sight - a huge rock formation plopped right in the middle of the desert. It’s also a world-famous rock climbing destination. I was only going there to run, but it was pretty amazing to see all the climbers. The ride out was decently flat, and I had a killer tailwind riding back into Bend.
This is the one and only negative thing you will ever hear me say about Bend: the smoke. Every summer wildfires rage, usually caused by lightning strikes. With a primarily northern winds, smoke from any fire north of Bend usually ends up making the air a tad hazy. Since I was biking further north, I got the full brunt of the wildfire effects. Smith Rock looked like a towering monster of doom, shielded in a haze of smoke. Here are a few pictures, you can sort of see what I mean:
Once I got into the park the smoke didn’t seem as bad, although I did have a cough for the rest of the day...
That night Luke and I headed to the grocery store and picked up supplies for a barbecue. We cooked up some delicious food, and watched a movie before heading to bed.
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Day 82:
So long Bend. It was a little weird leaving. Bend had been the closest thing I’ve had to a home since I left on the trip. I met some amazing people, done some incredible things, and had an unforgettable time. I also managed to by a plane ticket though, and for me to ride to the coast and still make the flight, I had to make a move. Today was the day.
I made a rough calculation a few days prior to leaving and decided that Eugene was about 100 miles outside of Bend. This turned out to be false. Eugene is actually 125 miles away.
There is also a gigantic mountain in the way.
My day started out with a pleasant ride towards Sisters, about 30 miles outside of Bend. (Sisters is aptly named for the three volcano peaks rising south of the town - North Sister, Middle Sister, and South Sister). Dave had given me a quite back road to take into the town, during which I saw some awesome scenery:
In Sisters I stopped at the Sisters Bakery, which Ian recommended. This was a really cool bakery (I’m a huge sucker for independently owned bakeries), and I wanted to buy everything they were offering up.
After Sisters, things turned a tad bit harder. I started riding up the huge ascent to McKenzie Pass, the last big mountain pass I would traverse. How big?
Sisters: 3,100 feet
McKenzie Summit: 5,400 feet
Eugene: 500 feet
That’s right, I was looking at a massive descent back down to (near) sea level. It sucks for anyone traveling east though...
McKenzie pass is also one of the most scenic passes I’ve seen yet. In addition to being a scenic byway closed to truck traffic, the road only opened about three weeks ago due to lingering snow. Before it opens to cars, a lane is even plowed so only bikes can ride the pass. There is also an "observatory" at the top, so you can hike up and get a better view of the surrounding mountains. Check out the views:
The Observatory:
There is an incredible difference between the west and east side of the mountain. East of the peak is the “high desert,” since most storms cannot move through the mountains. There are tall trees, but few shrubs. West of the peak gets much more precipitation though, so it is very lush and thick with undergrowth. The top of the pass is also a huge lava field, the product of three separate eruptions over the past few thousand years. Wanna see?
After I descended down to about 1,000 feet, the ground leveled out and began following a river downstream. I looked at my watched, recalculated my mileage, and realized I was way behind schedule. I touched base with Brent (who I would be staying with in Eugene) and told him I was running late. He was incredibly understanding, so I continued to push forward.
I finally arrived in Eugene at around 7:30. Despite a few wrong turns and my GPS being intent on navigating me onto the interstate, I made decent time getting into the city. I was incredibly relieved to meet Brent, even more so when he pointed out my bed, a shower, and began feeding me delicious barbecue.
That night I met Molly, Brent’s wife who had just arrived home from a business trip. She proceeded to reiterate how I should make myself at home, and I just thought how lucky I was to be among such great company.
Miles Covered: 125
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Day 83:
Brent and Molly left early to go to work, so I made a big breakfast before heading out. Since I only had 60 miles to ride, I wasn’t too concerned about getting an early start. My ride to Florence was a mixture of busy traffic, small hills, and one hectic/terrifying/horrible/deafening tunnel. I also think I passed through it the exact moment a freight train was going over it. Therefore, I’m putting this on my list of “things that I never want to experience ever again.”
With 14 miles to go, I made my final left turn and was hit with the sweet, tantalizing smell of victory. The salty smell of the pacific ocean engulfed my senses, and I instinctively began pedaling faster. My eyes were fixated on my mileage counter, watching the numbers grow ever-closer to 60.
Finally I saw it...”Welcome to Florence.” I had made it.
Disclaimer: Florence is not actually on the coast. I still had five miles to ride (into a headwind, nonetheless) until I reached the coast.
When I reached the water, I stood and marveled at its beauty. I had envisioned this moment since the day I departed, barely able to admit to myself I would actually make it. Finally being able to stand in the Pacific Ocean though, my reaction was not one I ever foresaw. Perhaps I would have leaped for joy if I had arrived with a friend. Perhaps I would have yelled and screamed if there were people around. Perhaps I would have dove in if the water wasn’t nearly frozen. Perhaps I would have collapsed, finally allowing 6,000 miles of bike riding to hit me, if not for the 60 mile per hour winds pelting me with sand. Instead, I left...but not before snapping a few pictures:
I suppose I had a different vision in my head. I pictured a sunny, calm beach, packed with people. Instead I was greeted with a cold, desolate beach, suffering from violently strong winds. I guess Luke was right when he said “we don’t really have beaches. We have the coast.” Indeed, that was what I witnessed.
Luckily, the town of Florence was pretty cool. I found a campground to shower in, and then explored the downtown area. I ate dinner in a quaint and quiet restaurant that Brent and Molly recommended called the Waterfront Depot. Sitting at the bar, I met a couple on vacation from Bend, and I told them stories from my trip the whole night. They were great company, and even brought me a few drinks. Thanks again, it was great meeting you!
I spent the night in a campground on the edge of town. Realizing it would be my last night in the hammock, I fell asleep with a content grin across my face.
Miles Covered: 65
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Day 84:
What do you do the day after you finish a 6,000 mile bike ride across the country? Well, how about a bike ride? Thanks to my new Oregon friends, I was convinced that I had to bike north on Route 101 to truly “experience” the Oregon coast. So be it...what’s a few more miles?
I ditched my trailer at a firehouse and departed early in the morning to try and beat the absurd northern winds that plague the coast in the afternoon. I reached my destination of the town of Yachats just in time. Ironically, for the first time since my initial IT band problems, my right knee began to hurt. Perhaps those extra 60 miles were a bad idea...
In the coast's defense, it seemed a little calmer than when I arrived. And it's true, it was very beautiful:
After a quick lunch at a local bakery, I got back on the bike and rode the winds back to Florence. By the time I made it back, my knee was throbbing in pain. Well, at least I was (almost) done.
With my flight home being out of Portland, my next task was to find my way back to Eugene. In Eugene I was going to mail my bike and stay with Brent and Molly for another night. They graciously agreed to host me again, and I can’t thank them enough for their hospitality.
With my knee in pain, I ruled out the idea of riding back altogether. So I went to the grocery store, got some cardboard, and wrote “Eugene, please.” On the front of it. I figured “Please” might work in my favor...
Standing on the side of the only road leading to Eugene, I waived my sign anxiously for about 10 minutes before someone in a pickup truck stopped. Not back, eh? I loaded my bike in the back, hopped in, and got a ride all the way to Venita, about 15 miles out of Eugene. Despite my knee problems, I was able to push the official last stretch of my journey into Eugene, and locate the REI (where I was shipping my bike).
A huge thank you to the Eugene REI, who got my bike in the mail the following day, and gave me the perfect box for my trailer, which I took to the airport. Handing my bike off, I finally breathed a huge sigh of relief. With no bike, I was finally done. Whether or not I wanted to be...
Brent and Molly picked me up from REI on their way home from work, and brought me back to their house. That night we all went up to Corvallis for a big pizza dinner with a few friend they’ve had since college. It was a great time, and the perfect way to celebrate the official end of my trip.
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Day 85:
The last step - In the morning I got a ride to Portland from a girl going back to school in Seattle (thank you Craigslist’s Rideshare). Arriving in the city, I dropped my box off at the hotel and went back downtown to roam around the city. Brent and Molly tipped me off about the massive Saturday Market by the waterfront, so I spent most of the day there. I read the paper in Wholefoods, and listened to an awesome folk band perform for free on the street.
That night I ate at the local Olive Garden, and became the new record holder of “most pasta bowls eaten.” I guess that’s a good thing...
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Day 86 (The End):
My flight was at 8:00, and miraculously I made it. I guess all that early rising in Nevada paid off...
Well, that’s a wrap. Cheers!
