The End of the Ride

Back in January, I sought a challenge. I sought a challenge that was unique in nature. I wanted to do something in my life that people would admire and aspire to. I think ExplOregon was the perfect answer to that call. Seeing the state on a bike and conquering the difficulties strengthened me and fills me with pride. It was an awesome adventure that I will never forget.

It is difficult to gauge which bike ride was the best. I think all of them had their own respective advantages and disadvantages. You have to look at all the rides collectively. ExplOregon started out on Easter Sunday with the wet and windy ride up the Row River Trail. A few other warm-up rides around Spencer's Butte and the Coburg Hills led me to the first big ride. I got that taste of bike touring and I knew that I was set up for the adventure of a lifetime.

My first century ride on the Willamette Valley Bike Route tested me. It was a frustrating marathon, but the relief I had at the end was worth it. I had just rode 100 miles on a bike. It tested my stamina and will. My limits were approached and there were times on that ride when I asked myself, "Why am I doing this? This is crazy!" But then I appreciated the sheer magnitude of the task in front of me. Criss-Crossing the back roads of an area of Oregon that I thought I knew like the back-of-my-hand on a primitive form of transportation gave me the appreciation I needed. I also learned the thrill of completing the task by seeing the welcoming sights of Eugene and the end of the ride.

When I got to the train station in Portland, the attendants there seemed aghast that I would ride my bike all the way to Multnomah Falls. I was surprised at this. I mean, haven't a lot of people done that? Apparently not. But this trail-blazing attitude took me to the Columbia River Gorge and to Multnomah Falls. I had never been to the Columbia River Gorge before this, but the first experience on a bike made it that much better.

Then the break. Life kind of got in the way. I didn't ride my bike for weeks and lost sight of the objectives. My bike stood in my apartment begging me to ride it. It was begging me to get on the computer and plan some sort of exotic trip to the far corners of the state. I neglected it and pushed forward with all of the stuff that was going on. Once I got that out of the way, I tackled probably the most grandiose ride of them all.

Making the climb up McKenzie Pass reminded me of the struggle and how greatness took effort. After climbing to over a mile high in the sky, I marveled at the accomplishment. When I got to the top of the mountain, I had a fist pump and a huge smile. I had conquered the Cascade Range. I went up and over the same mountain range that challenged the pioneers and settlers. It showed me that I can confront nature and, on my bike, beat back the obstacles.

I was on a roll. My next challenge was the Oregon Coast. I thought this ride would be super hard, but with the great tailwind behind me, I climbed the headlands with no problem. I was very familiar with this stretch of Highway 101, but being on a bike made things so much more personal. I have a lot more respect for the road itself and the beauty that is the Oregon Coast. I was inspired by that ride to push the limits of my physical abilities and, in the future, stretch that ride into a multi-day affair.

But I was set up for disappointment. The Springwater Corridor was a nice ride, sure, but the sense of accomplishment just wasn't there. Maybe it was intermingling with all of the spandex bandidos, but I just left that ride longing for more. On paper it seemed like a fun ride. Weaving through Southwest Portland on an old railroad grade. But when I was riding, I noticed so many other people doing that ride, so the allure of the "trailblazing ride" wasn't there.

I needed to get back to the ExplOregon roots. Finding what made the state so ideal. The Badlands ride sure did it. The isolation and desolation I experience reaffirmed the pledge I made to do something great. I sought the far corner and rode my bike to it. The desert scenery was incredible and the views were extraordinary.

And then what a way to end it. The hardest bike ride in America around Crater Lake. It took all the lessons I had learned from the previous ten rides to succeed. Crater Lake is Oregon's jewel, and I experienced in a way that was more personal than a car. I had read in numerous bike touring books that the ride on the Rim Drive around Crater Lake was the hardest in America. I can say that I agree with that. Despite that, it was totally worth it.

The final stats are incredible. I rode almost 500 total miles. I was in the saddle for over 40 hours. I experienced weather conditions ranging from brutally hot to shivering cold. Rain, snow, and sun tested me. I enjoyed brisk tailwinds and fought brutal headwinds.

Sure, the physical aspects of all of this are apparent, but did I learn anything? Of course I did. I learned how to be a bike tourist carrying all your necessary provisions on a two-wheeled transport. I learned a lot on how to fix my bike on the fly and in the workshop. With all the riding, I can now gauge ow the bike is riding. Is there something wrong? Or is it smooth sailing? I also learned a lot about what makes a good bike route and analyzing maps critically.

So, what's next? That's a good question. I have thought a lot how to take this hobby to the next level. Multi-day trips would be fun, but do I have the time to do them? Logistically they can present a challenge, so I don't know what to do.

It has been a lot of fun writing about everything I have done on this blog. I thank all of you for reading it and offering your support!

ExplOregon Ride 11: Crater Lake

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Determination and will-power make the best bike riders. Sure, physical ability has a lot to do with riding a bike, but it is the  self-determination inside of you that makes riding a bike such a great activity. Yesterday, I conquered the, arguably, hardest bike ride in America. The 33-mile Rim Drive around Crater Lake in Crater Lake National Park is replete with steep hills, relentless headwinds, bitter temperatures, and some of the best scenery in the world. Established as a National Park in 1902, Crater Lake National Park is Oregon's only National Park. It is the third oldest National Park in the United States. It has inspired millions of people since then and attracted serious bicycle riders for years.

Crater Lake is actually formed from the collapse of a volcano. Mount Mazama exploded about 10,000 years ago in a massive eruption. After blowing it's top, the caldera collapsed in on itself creating the crater. And, since then, precipitation from rain and snowfall has filled the lake to its current capacity making it the deepest lake in the United States at almost 2,000 feet. No streams run or out of the caldera. It is all snowmelt and rain.

Aside from the geologic interests, most people are drawn to the lake because of the deep, azure blue color the lake shows. Because of heavy reflection and the lights refracting off the depths, Crater Lake appears a deep, deep blue color when viewed. Even with the cloudy day, the lake was so blue that, at times, I couldn't look directly at it.

Bundled up and ready to ride at the North Junction

I started my ride at the North Junction and proceeded around the lake in a clockwise direction. With the temperature in the mid-30's, I was anxious to get riding and get my blood flowing. However, on the very first hill, I realized I was pedaling at an altitude of almost 8,000 feet. I was winded after the first hill and my legs were already burning after the first mile or so. I had to conserve as much energy as possible because of altitude sickness. I remember the experience up on McKenzie Pass, and I did not want to repeat it.

After the first steep climb of around a mile or so, the road hugged the top of the caldera offering up some spectacular views of the lake, Wizard Island and the sheer cliffs that ring the lake. It was also the first long downhill I had, so I was able to relax a little and take in the views. But my enjoyment wouldn't last.

View from Cleetwood Cove

I then began a nearly 4-mile climb behind the cliffs of the lake to the base of Mt. Scott, which overlooks the lake. The windy Rim Drive offered views of the expansive Eastern Oregon desert, but the constant uphill took it's toll on me. I utilized as many of the pull outs as I could to catch my breath and relief for my legs. It was the most physically demanding task of my life, by far. I thought I would get some relief at the top of the hills, but they were simply openings onto the lake which put me into the crosshairs of a nasty headwind that had to have been approaching 40-50mph. Combine that with the bitter cold, it was not an enjoyable experience, to say the least.

I enjoyed some downhill riding all the way to the Phantom Ship overlook. The Phantom Ship is one of only two islands in Crater Lake. This rock formation may look small, but in reality it is over 13-stories tall. As I was riding on the north rim, I could see it shilloutte admist the fog over the lake. The term "phantom" definitely could be used to describe the island.

I looped around some more horshoe climbs before a descent into the Rim Village. The location of the Park Headquarters was pretty barren. October is not exactly tourist season in the park, which meant I pretty much had the road to myself. I saw maybe a dozen or so cars, and we pretty much played tag around the lake. I got familiar with some of the cars on the road and it was a good distraction to know how far along the lake I was.

View from the Sinnot Memorial Overlook

After the Rim Village, I began the last climb to the Sinnot Memorial Overlook. This is the most famous overlook where most people take pictures of Crater Lake. From here, Wizard Island is clearly visible admist the towering cliffs of the north side. The largest island in Crater Lake, Wizard Island is the result of almost a "hiccup" in the eruption of Mt. Mazama. It is now the dropping off point for the boats that ply the lake in the summer.

I wheeled around the few remaining cliffs back to the North Junction. I had completed the 33-mile ride, but I felt I had earned a few minutes of solid downhill running after all the hills I had climbed. I decided to jump on the access road back to the entrance of the park. Essentially 9 miles of all downhill riding through the Pumice Desert was the break that I was needing.

Pumice Desert

The Pumice Desert is a huge landscape of the north slope of the mountain that is devoid of all plant life. Formed from the lava flow, the pumice doesn't hold in the nutrients to support life. It is a barren and wind swept landscape that put the cap on the ride I was looking for.

I had read in Bike Touring magazines and internet forums that this was the hardest bike ride in the United States. I have to agree with that. This was physically demanding to the extreme and pushed my willpower to the limit. It may have been easier if I had rode in July or August, but the experience I had this past weekend really stands alone. I confronted mother nature and rode my bike at the top of the world and succeeded.

ExplOregon by Bike Ride 11: Crater Lake Summary
Total Miles for Ride- 33.0 miles
Total Time on Bike-4.5 hours
Weather- Low to Mid-30's with Cloud Skies
Miles Traveled Overall in ExplOregon- 511.2 miles
Time Spent on Bike Overall- 44.5 hours

Weather Permitting

I had planned to ride the Rim Drive at Crater Lake tomorrow, but the forecast is calling for gusty winds and 1 to 2 inches of snow to fall with temperatures in the mid-20's. Because of this, I have postponed the ride until next week. Extended forecasts call for sunny, but cold conditions in the low-40's.

ExplOregon Ride 10 : The Oregon Badlands

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The starkness of this state continues to astound me. If it isn't sweeping beaches, it's thick pine forests. But this ride I did yesterday showed me a part of the state that is forgotten by a lot of outsiders, but a well-known secret amongst residents

My ride started out in the bustling city of Bend. This city of over 80,000 used to be a small outpost in Central Oregon. I can actually remember the day not too long ago when Bend was this small, little community. But with an average of 300 days of sunshine and land to build on, Bend exploded with the snowbird population and has swelled to be one of the largest cities in Oregon and certainly the largest east of the Cascades. I parked my car right in the middle of Downtown on a busy Saturday night. The bars and small restaurants that lined Wall Street were packed and hopping. I had an inclination to duck into one of the smaller watering holes for a beer before the ride, but I really wanted to get on the road.

Downtown Bend in front of the Tower Theater

I headed due east out of Bend along Highway 20. This road, that stretches coast-to-coast from Newport to Boston, bisects Bend as it makes its easterly run. While dotted with strip malls and cinemas in Bend, the road quickly empties out into pure High Desert terrain. Despite the large amounts of traffic, you really started to feel the desolation and isolation of this region of Oregon. Central and Eastern Oregon are some of the most sparsely populated areas in the United States. You could go for hundreds of miles without seeing another person or house. Especially when I made the left-turn onto Dodds Road about 15 miles out Highway 20, all I could see was miles and miles of sagebrush and rocks.

Dodds Road straddles the western border of the Oregon Badlands. The Oregon Badlands is a federally-designated Wilderness area just east of Bend in the High Desert. An expansive area of protected desert habitat, the Badlands were formed millions of years ago through geologic uplift and lava flows. Nowadays, lava rock outcrops and undulating terrain support dry, desert plant life and hard-scrabble wildlife. You have to be tough to live out here as the winds can whip up to 30 or 40 mph and the temperatures in summer can climb to nearly 115 degrees while dropping to below freezing. Precipitation is few and far between as the little water that does fall, mostly as snow in winter, is channeled and preserved. Still, there are some hearty ranchers and farmers who have adapted to life out here and made a living.

The Oregon Badlands

 The seven miles or so on Dodds Road was the most isolation I had ever felt. I didn't pass one car. I didn't see one person. I always ride with my iPod turned on for entertainment and rhythm to climb hills, but I turned it off so I could literally hear silence. And silence I did hear. Nobody around for miles. No spread of civilization, It was me, my bike, the road ahead, and this environment. It was at this point I gained a huge appreciation for those settlers and cowboys of the past that had to traverse this land on foot or horseback. The daunting task shows their will-power and determination.

After Dodds Road, I made a right-turn to the tiny settlement of Alfalfa. Supporting only a Community Hall and a small general store, Alfalfa is essentially a wide spot in the road. I did some research on Wikipedia and found that Alfalfa used to have a one-room schoolhouse and post office until the 1980's, but those have all gone away. As the sun was setting, the windswept village quickly turned dark and I turned back to the west towards Bend.

Alfalfa Community Hall

Heading west on Alfalfa Market Road was the most difficult riding I have ever done. I rode straight into the most brutal headwind I've ever encountered since ExplOregon began. My best estimation was that the wind was somewhere between 25-30 mph. As I fought the wind, my body started to degrade. The constant exertion of effort put a lot of stress on my lower back making riding nearly unbearable. I would stop for a few moments to rest only to have my back flare up as soon as I got back on. It made for some difficult riding that made those eleven or so miles back to Bend the hardest eleven miles I have ever rode.

Sunset over the Badlands with the Cascades in the background

This trip was originally scheduled to be a two-day tour through Central Oregon. My plan was to originally ride the Badlands, drive back to Tumalo State Park and stay in the hiker/biker camping there, and then ride the Crooked River Gorge on Highway 27 from Prineville. But after the headwind, my heart wasn't really into it anymore. It was pushing nine o'clock, so I decided to pack the bike up and come home.

I got what I wanted out of the ride. I saw another side of the state that only adds to the ExplOregon experience. But I am tired and have decided to do one more ride. One more ride that defines Oregon. The ride is a simple one to guess: Crater Lake. A ride along the Rim Drive will close out ExplOregon. I think I might go here in a couple weeks, so stay tuned.

ExplOregon by Bike Ride 10: The Oregon Badlands Summary
Total Miles for Ride- 34.7 miles
Total Time on Bike-2.5 hours
Weather- High 50's to low 60's with Cloudy Skies
Miles Traveled Overall in ExplOregon- 478.2 miles
Time Spent on Bike Overall- 40.5 hours

ExplOregon Ride 9: Springwater Corridor

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As the summer winds down, ExplOregon is heating up. The second ride in two weeks had me traveling up to the Rose City for a trip along the 23-mile long Springwater Corridor Trail. Coupled with a trip to the zoo and some baseball, this ride was part of a larger trip up to Portland. It was a lot of fun and offered another glimpse into the state.

My girlfriend and I started our ride at Union Station on the outskirts of downtown Portland. We crossed the massive Steel Bridge over the Willamette River to the Eastside of Portland. The Steel Bridge carries not only bike and pedestrians, it carries four lanes of auto traffic, the MAX light rail line and the main north-south line of the Union Pacific into Union Station. It is one of the busiest multi-modal bridges in the world, which is extraordinary considering that it was built in1912.

After crossing to the Eastside, we made our way south along the Vera Katz Esplanade. This floating walkway offers up an amazing panorama of downtown Portland. We had to dodge, however, the participants of a triathalon who were running right at us. This made for some slow going, but with the incredible vista, it was well-worth the stop-and-go traffic. 

The Portland Skyline

After heading south along the river underneath the other bridges and OMSI, we took a sharp turn east towards Gresham and Boring which delineated the beginning of the Springwater Corridor. A rails-to-trails, the Springwater Corridor parallels Johnson Creek at the Southern edge of Portland and Gresham before swinging southeast into Boring. It meanders its way through urban riparian habitat in the Johnson Creek watershed, swinging around Powell Butte and Mt. Scott, and giving riders a straight-ahead view of Mt. Hood in many places. It is part of Portland's grand "40-mile loop" for bicyclists that encircles the city.

At the beginning of the trail

While all of this is exciting on paper, I was rather disappointed with my ride. I was expecting some urban cycling within the city, but the route really stuck to the open areas. Looking at bushes and wetlands after a few miles really started to get old. The views of Mt. Hood were nice, but with the meandering nature of the trail, the view came and went entirely too much.

This particular day we decided to ride was the same day as the Portland Century ride. As a result, we had to share the trail with hundreds of "spandex bandidos." Who are they, you might ask? They are the riders on $4,000 bikes wearing all the spandex. I am not one as I prefer to wear shorts and a tank top on all my rides, but these riders are of the racing and deathly serious type. They tend to take up the whole trail, come up behind you without giving a verbal warning, and go way too fast. I would much rather fight a brutal headwind or climb the steepest hill than deal with these characters.

We reached the Linneman Station around milepost 18 after about three hours on the trail. My girlfriend stopped to rest at the station while I decided to continue the final push into Boring. Surprisingly, about two miles before Boring, the pavement on the trail ended. A dirt path continued, likely to Boring, but I was puzzled as to why the pavement stopped so close to the end and in a random place. I thought about continuing down the dirt path (my bike does have fat tires for some limited off-roading), but I kind of had enough of this particular ride. I rode back to the station and my girlfriend and I rode north a few blocks to catch a MAX light rail train back into Portland.

I wanted to get a Portland bike ride in for ExplOregon. I thought this would do it, but I disagree. Sure, this ride adds to the allure of ExplOregon, but if I wanted a Portland ride, I should've stuck with the Esplanade and Bike Boulevards. I would've gotten a better taste of the city, maybe ridden a little longer in mileage and seen a heck of a lot more.

I'm taking next weekend off. I'm re-gathering myself and taking a breath. These last two rides have exhausted me and my psyche is taxed. I need a weekend where I do nothing and relax.

ExplOregon by Bike Ride 9: Springwater Corridor Summary
Total Miles for Ride-20.9 miles
Total Time on Bike- 3 hours
Weather-Mid 80's with Clear Skies
Miles Traveled Overall in ExplOregon- 443.5 miles
Time Spent on Bike Overall- 38 hours

ExplOregon Ride 8: The Oregon Coast

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What is the crown jewel of Oregon? Is it our fertile valleys, harsh deserts, towering mountains, thick forests, or pristine coastline? ExplOregon sets out to find this out. What makes Oregon so great? The past few rides around this state have showed me that the natural beauty is a spectacle in contrast, and yesterday's ride showed me a side of this state that I have seen so much from a car.

The Oregon Coast is dominated by it's roughness and sheer beauty. While it certainly has its share of sandy beaches, the Oregon Coast primary features are the towering cliffs and sheer headlands that dominate hard rocks formed by millions of years of pounding and relentless surf. I set out to ride a potion of this beautiful stretch of land from the bustling town of Newport to the cozy town of Florence.

Getting ready to ride

Riding along the US Highway 101, the fifty-odd mile ride started in Old Town Newport amongst the touristy jewelry and souvenier shops. Originally thought to be the western terminus of the transcontinental railroad, Newport grew to become one of the larger port cities in Oregon. When the railroad decided to start in San Francisco and the logging industry died, the many fishing warehouses and piers were converted to trendy restaurants and tourist attractions. Even on a cloudy day, Newport was bustling with many people walking the streets and shopping.

Old Town Florence

I headed across the massive Yaquina Bay Bridge and proceeded south for about twenty miles. US Highway 101 is the main highway along the West Coast of the United States. Starting at the Washington-Canada border, it heads due south through Oregon into California going through San Francisco into Los Angeles. It is commonly known as the Pacific Coast Highway. The Oregon Coast Bike Route primarily uses 11 as it's main conduit, although there are a few stretches where it diverges from the main road. Stretching about 360 miles from Astoria to Brookings, I selected this particular portion because it was close to home and also gave me the experience of the Oregon Coast that I was searching for.

Sign just before crossing the Yaquina Bay Bridge

For the first twenty miles of the ride, I paralleled sandy beaches and state parks that were overflowing with day-trippers and overnighters. While the traffic was fairly heavy, the shoulders were very wide and the tailwind allowed me to traverse the first part of the ride fairly quickly.

After speeding through the samll towns of Seal Rock and Waldport, I reached the halfway point in Yachats. Pronounced Ya-Haats, this tourist town was where I was supposed to meet my support car for lunch. However, I made such good time that I actually outpaced my support car. It took me only an hour and fifteen minutes to go the twenty odd miles to Yachats. That tells you just how gusty the tailwind was.

Heceta Beach

I decided to proceed on while my support car caught up to me. Proceeding on meant climbing the headlands between Yachats and Florence. Carved by millions of years of wave erosions, the massive headlands of Cape Perpetua and Heceta Head tower massively hundreds of feet below pounding surf. Highway 101 becomes very steep in this portion and the climb took a lot out of me. However, not unlike the McKenzie Pass ride, once you get to the top of the hill the view is incredible. Miles of pristine coastline and jagged cliffs stretched out for miles on each side. It was incredible.

At the top of the hill is the Cape Creek Bridge and tunnel. I only mention this because all of the bridges along the Oregon Coast were designed by the same man during the Great Depression. They are massive in scale, and I went over two of them when I rode.

Cape Creek Bridge

After meeting my support car at Heceta Head, I climbed the final few hundred feet to the top of the headland, stopped for a quick picture and headed downhill.

Looking down onto Heceta Head and the Lighthouse

After about ten miles of steady downhill, I reached Old Town Florence. I completed the ride in a surprising three-and-a-half hours covering about 50 miles. While I had driven this stretch of 101 many times, the experience I got while riding a bike just can't compare. Being outside and enjoying the spray of the surf, the gust of the tailwind, and the fresh smell of the sea made this one of the most enjoyable rides I have done.

ExplOregon by Bike Ride 8: Oregon Coast Summary
Total Miles for Ride-50.6 miles
Total Time on Bike- 3.5 hours
Weather-Mid 60's with Cloudy Skies
Miles Traveled Overall in ExplOregon- 422.6 miles
Time Spent on Bike Overall- 35 hours

ExplOregon Ride 7: McKenzie Pass

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It may have been a long layoff, but ExplOregon reawakened in a big way with the epic climb in the Cascades along Highway 242. I have wanted to do this ride for so very long, but it seemed like life had gotten in the way the past few months. Last weekend, however, I got the urge to ride again and I made the climb to the top of the Cascades.

Originally carved as a wagon route, Highway 242 is a windy and narrow road that traverses the central Cascades. Starting just east of McKenzie Bridge off of Highway 126, the road climbs nearly 4,000 vertical feet to the summit of McKenzie Pass. It descends sharply downward to meet up with Highway 126 in the cozy western town of Sisters. Normally closed nine months out of the year, the road had thirty foot snow drifts up on the summit. The road itself didn't even open for vehicular traffic until July 15 because of the deep snow.

The East Portal of Highway 242 in Sisters

 Residing at an elevation of around 3,000 feet, Sisters is a quaint town at the foot of the Cascades. It has been redeveloped to look and feel like an old-western town with period style buildings and rough-and-tumble saloons. It is a major tourist trap that offers weary outsiders lots of window shopping opportunities. My girlfriend and I drove here to start the ride. While I made my way up to the summit, she would shop, grab us some lunch and meet me at the top. We would eat lunch at the top and then she would pick me up back on the other side.

Getting ready to go

Taking advantage of the brilliant sunshine and warm temperatures, I headed due west on 242 through thick lodgepole and ponderosa pine forests. These hearty trees were interspersed with mesquite plants and sagebrush. The isolation I felt headed out of town was a little intimidating knowing that this really is what most people think of as the "West." After about nine miles of straightness with a gradual climb, I started to climb.

Ranchland west of Sisters with the North and Middle Sisters

Just past the snow gates, Highway 242 begins it's climb towards the summit of McKenzie Pass. As I slowly made my way up the mountain, the vegetation changed from ponderosa and sagebrush to mountain lupine and Douglas Fir.

As the switchbacks added up, my body started to agonize. This was my first ride at altitude and a month of just back-and-forth rides to Eugene were not adequate preparation. As I labored, my breath became short, my legs burned, and I started to have a painful headache. I knew that altitude sickness was oncoming if I didn't pace myself better. I focused on my pedaling rhythm and breathing cadence to conserve my oxygen and energy.

After about five miles of climbing, I burst out into a massive sea of lava at Windy Point. Formed by the eruption of Belknap Crater, this sea of lava dominates the top of McKenzie Pass. It was at this point where the scenery became the antidote for my bodily pain. From my single stationary spot, I could clearly see Mt. Washington, Mt. Jefferson, Mt. Hood, the Three Sisters, Three-Fingered Jack and Belknap Crater. If I still had oxygen after that long climb, the view would have taken it away.The road brought me so close to these massive peaks that I really sensed I could reach out and touch their tops. It was absolutely incredible.

I was still about three miles from the top of the mountain, and I knew that these would be the hardest section of the entire ride. Flanked by massive walls of lava rock, I labored the last climb almost to exhaustion. When I finally reached the summit, I threw out a little fist bump and a huge smile. I had conquered a ride that taxed me emotionally, psychologically and physically. I had also seem the quintessential Oregon that I had always wanted to see. My girlfriend took a picture of me about 50 yards from the top, and I looked worn out and exhausted, but my smile and elation at accomplishment was clearly evident.

The Summit of McKenzie Pass

At the top of McKenzie Pass sits the Dee Wright Observatory. This structure, built during the 1930's entirely out of lava rock, offers the visitor a 360 degree view of the surrounding vista. The views of the Cascades is outstanding. We climbed to the top and gazed out on the miles of lava fields and the towering mountains. It made the long climb up well worth it.

The Dee Wright Observatory

From L to R: The North Sister, Middle Sister and Little Brother

From L to R: Mt. Washington and Mt. Jefferson

Then the down hill. 4,000 feet of pure downward road gave me a literal 11-mile roller coaster. I hardly pedaled at all during my descent and I was going so fast that I was easily keeping up with the cars that had passed me on the way up. The exhilaration of flying fast down the hill and navigating sharp curves and switchbacks on a bike is a rush. Unfortunately, as soon as it started, the joy ride came to an end as I rolled to a stop at Highway 126.

In a weird ironic turn of events, my girlfriend and I decided to head over to the nearby Belknap Hot Springs after my ride. If it weren't eighty degrees outside, I would have been thrilled at soaking in a hot springs after a ride like that, but on a day like that, it made my condition worse. I soaked for about an hour, but I did not drink nearly enough water to keep up with the extreme temperatures and the preceding work of the bike ride. I got home, drank a huge glass of cold water and took a nap.

This ride was an incredible experience. I am so happy that I undertook this challenge and conquered a mountain. I saw the best Oregon had to offer in a way that not many people have done.


ExplOregon by Bike Ride 7: McKenzie Pass Summary
Total Miles for Ride-36.4
Total Time on Bike- 3 hours
Weather-Mid 80's with Clear Skies
Miles Traveled Overall in ExplOregon-372
Time Spent on Bike Overall- 31.5 hours