Part II: The Hunters and the Hunted
Part III: SSheldon Country
Part IV: SSnow!!
SSeptember Adventures Part I: On Waldo Pond
Last night I got back from 4 days of exploring and SS mountain biking in various locales in Central and Southeast Oregon.Friday I decided to ride around Waldo Lake. I'd done this 25-mile ride a few weeks ago with my experimental 1x5 drivetrain, but it's really perfect for singlespeeding. After all, it circles the lake, never getting more than a couple hundred feet above it. Which means that while there are plenty of climbs, none of them are long enough to make you cough up a lung. But the climbs are reasonably steep and technical, so there's plenty of challenge.
From my previous ride, I remember fussing with the shifting quite a bit as I attacked the climbs, making sure I was in the right gear, slowing down to shift, and all of that. Maybe I was paying more than usual attention because of my unusual gear arrangement on that ride, but regardless of the reasons, this time it would be different.
To paraphrase Thoreau:
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I wanted to drive riding into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and if it proved to be mean, to get the whole and genuine meanness and publish it to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience and give a true account of it in my next excursion. |
Without gears to worry about, I could focus on RIDING. Pedal and steer. All my attention could be devoted to line, speed and body positioning. Oh yeah, and the scenery:
The above pic was 4-5 miles in. Riding clockwise from Shadow Bay, the trail rolls gently up and down through the woods fairly non-technically, passing small meadows and over wooden bridges along the way. I'm carrying speed out of the short downhills back up the other side, standing up a bit to get up over the crest of each rise. Perfect. And it looks like someone has thoughtfully smoothed out the water bars that earlier this summer kept trying to eat my front wheel.
Soon the climbs get steeper and technical, and I have to walk some of them. But those are the same climbs I had to walked when I was running gears, so I don't care. And I'm making it up over some stuff I couldn't before, just by stomping, herc'ing on the bars and praying for traction. Even though I'm very new to the SS thing, I'm already a better technical rider than I was when I rode the trail in August. Rocks and logs that would have given me pause before - even when I had front suspension - now come much more easily on this rigid bike. And with only one more gear, I can more precisely dial in my speed as I encounter technical obstacles. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not that accomplished of a rider ... but I'm better than I used to be.
After a few more miles I come to a nice overlook:
My gear ratio is 35:20, which is what happens to fit my chainstay length. (Actually, it fit perfectly with ramped cogs, but once I put on a Novatec BMX cog the chain was too tight, so I had to file out the dropouts slightly). This gives me an overall ratio of 1.75:1, which is pretty much in between the 34:20 and 32:18 ratios that are popular around here. Here's a closeup:
The trail curves around this bay a good distance above the water, with a short stretch going across a nice talus slope. I have to remember to keep my eyes on the trail, not the scenery. A short while later the trail drops down near the water:
Then shortly afterwards, you spend about 3 miles of quick, gentle up-and-down through an area that burned in 1996. Lots of dead trees, blooming fireweed and little ponds like this one:
Riding on a Friday, I only met one other person on the trail, a biker who was heading to the other campground to meet his friends. Overall, it was a great ride, and maybe more enjoyable (and faster, averaging 8 mph on the bike) than when I rode it geared. And that was just the first day of my trip.
I swung by Waldo on Monday, on my way back to Portland. A little snow was sticking to the beach (and 100 yards away from the water it was 1-2" deep):
SSeptember Adventures Part II: The Hunters and the Hunted
Next I spent Saturday and Sunday out in the desert of SE Oregon. I go out there 2-3 times a year to camp, ride and just plain get away from it all. Only a few of the roads (but enough of them) are maintained for passenger cars, which leaves thousands of miles of dirt doubletrack and jeep track to explore by bike. Most of the year you are extremely unlikely to encounter another person out there. Just cows, pronghorns, bighorn sheep, coyotes, meadowlarks and jackrabbits.The vast majority of this quadrant of the state is BLM land, which means you can pretty much go anywhere you want. Most people think of the desert as a place to floor the accelerator and hope you don't break down, an opinion usually formed from driving the ugly, desolate stretch of US 20 from Bend to Burns. But other parts of Southeast Oregon are filled with giant saline lakes and playas, towering basalt cliffs, angular rimrocked buttes and other cowboy-movie scenery. To me it's 20 million acres of paradise:
I ride most often in the Alvord Desert-Sheepshead Mountains area, but this time I decide to head for the Hart Mountain National Antelope Shooting Range - er, Refuge. This spot is actually on the radar screen of some mountain bikers, because a 25 mile loop on the refuge is actually described in some guidebooks. But I don't really recommend that ride, because it's all on washboardy, loose-gravel roads that see a bit (maybe a few cars an hour) of motor vehicle traffic.
Poring over my USGS, BLM and refuge maps, I pick out a 28 mile route that will take me away from the cars, provide a bit more technical challenge and show some of the variety of the desert.
Usually the desert is either a little too warm or too cool for comfort. But today is a perfect day, maybe 65-70 degrees. Pretty windy in the more exposed areas, but that's not exactly unusual. By the way, I've seen 10 antelope already before even getting out of the car. Also by the way, I am carrying a total of 5 liters of water - hydration is essential here, and it's good to carry some extra, just in case, though this ride isn't as remote as many that I do. The first few miles drop me down about 300 feet and accelerate me away from the main road, so I'm quickly off into the sage and beige of the real desert:
My route will eventually take me up and over the top of the mountain in this photo. I see 9 pronghorns, or actually they see me first and take off - though much slower than the 60 mph they are capable of. I stop to watch through my binoculars. After a moment, they stop a few hundred yards away to watch me. I get back on the bike and they take off again. I ride for half a minute and stop again. They stop. This is a "game" I have played with the pronghorn - or they have played with me - many times. They usually will do this several times before they run off for good.
Looking at desert "lakes" on a map you never know what you're going to encounter. Sometimes they have water (part or all of the year), sometimes they're an empty hard playa, and sometimes they're covered in grass like this one:
The safety vest, by the way, is necessary because this is the first day HUHNtin' season!. The targets in this locale are pronghorns (!!), mule deer and bighorn sheep. I've since learned a hunter near Mt. Hood was killed over the weekend by a fellow hunter who mistook him for a bear, so you can't be t?o careful.
The first half of the ride is just cruising through terrain like this, rolling up and down gently. My kind of riding. Technical with lots of lava rocks in some places, smooth dirt in others. Now there are plenty of gnarly-steep rides you can do out here - and on the flatter sections you could maintain 15-20 mph with taller gears. But I'm out here to explore and enjoy the desert, not to ride hard.
I should have tried doing these rides on a singlespeed a long time ago. It's perfect. I can cruise along the flat parts in the low teens, get up the climbs without too much difficulty, and just coast through the downhill stretches. Some of the places I ride are remote enough that a mechanical breakdown could actually be dangerous, so having less stuff to break is a plus. A singlespeed is a good bike for my kind of adventuring.
Eventually I approach misnamed Guano Creek and its strip of vegetation. At 17 miles into the ride I come to the "Blue Sky" site and a lovely grove of Ponderosas and Aspens. Time for a break.
Aspens in the desert? Yes, there are numerous mountain ranges in SE Oregon, and many of them are high enough to support lush year-round streams, and many also have bands of aspen between the 6000 and 8000 foot level. Right now the aspen is about at is color peak, with the rustling leaves turned a bright orange-yellow.
From here the road follows the creek uphill, and in some places it's quite steep so I'm glad for the cooling shade of the trees. After a couple of miles I climb out the trees:
No more shade, but it's late afternoon and I've gained a bit of elevation, so I'm not overheating. Eventually I gain the mountaintop at a bit over 7000 feet, and cruise along for several miles with views like these:
Then I have a nice 20 mph down blast a couple more miles back down to the car. Lots of big rolly waterbars off which I could probably get air if I were so inclined. Even though I'm not into risk-taking on a ride like this, I'm still enjoying the roller-coaster effect. Finally, as I sprint up the last little rise to the overlook where I started, I scare up a herd of at least 15 pronghorns. Could have been more, because I never got a chance to see the whole herd. Great way to finish off what has been a great ride. I have seen 46 of them today.
Just before finishing the ride, I had to pause to admire this pretty little stand of Mountain Mahogany:
SSeptember adventures Part III: SSheldon Country
Sunday, still in the desert. I decided to explore a couple of spots I've been wanting to check out relatively near the Nevada border. But I decide to opt for short rides because the weather has changed dramatically overnight - it sounds like the weather will hold for today, but out here you never really know.I scope out what looks like a really cool route that will take me to a high cliff overlooking a desert lake. The first mile climbs up somewhat technically over a low ridge overlooking the Warner Basin where I started:
F?r me, part of the adventure of the desert is that with no guidebooks, you never know what the trail is really going to be like until you get on it. Sometimes it turns out fantastically, as with yesterday's ride. Sometimes it's not so good. This "road" quickly becomes littered with baby heads, and the portions of road that aren't rock are deep loose sand:
This isn't very fun, and about 2 miles in I turn back towards the car in search of better riding opportunities. I head east on SR 140, blasting up spectacular Greaser Canyon, over Blizzard Gap, down across the Guano Basin, back up the high-performance highway that is the climb over Doherty Slide and on towards the Nevada line. This time my objective is to ride my bicycle across the state line into the adjoining National Antelope Refuge. After several false starts on jeep tracks that dematerialize in the sagebrush, I finally find the right road. After less than a mile I reach my frontierish objective:
!!
Now I've been meaning for some time to send Sheldon a thank-you for all of the great singlespeed and other great biking information I've gleaned from his site. I may just have to attach the above border-crossing picture.
I ride 3 miles further to an overlook into some of the deepest recesses of remote Nevada (sorry, that pic didn't turn out very well) and head back. As I crest over a rise, I see something moving. A couple of white heads and butts sticking up above a small patch of tall sagebrush. More prongies! I stop and watch through the binocs. Slowly they emerge from the sage, and I keep re-counting and tallying the total ... 5 ... 10 ... 15 ... 20 ... finally, there are twenty-five antelope grazing about a 1/4 mile in front of me.
I pause to watch this for a few minutes, and then resume my ride. Of course they take off. Sorry the pic isn't better, but this is about as close as they'll let you get:
Now I've seen a total of 71 prongers on this trip. Nice.
With rapidly changing weather and only one more day left of my trip, I head back for Central Oregon. I encounter this storm coming down the valley I had ridden out of earlier this morning:
SSeptember Adventures Part IV: SSnow!!
OK, it's Monday. Yesterday. September 30. Last day of my trip. I've spent an anxious night at LaPine State Park, hoping for snow that might come. Nope, just freezing rain. Come morning, it's 31 degrees and my tent is covered in ice pellets. The picnic table is smooth and slick. Nothing sticking to the pavement, though - the ground is too warm. But I'm optimistic: this campground is at about 4000 feet and most of Central Oregon's riding areas are considerably higher.I jump in the car and head for higher ground. As I approach the Edison Lake Sno-Park, the light mist turns to flurries and the trees turn white.
OMFG! It's SNOWING!!!
Pass-level snow usually doesn't fall in the Pacific NW until mid to late October, so this is a real gift. Here's the scene at the Swampy Lakes Sn?-Park:
I hop on the bike and plow out onto the snowy trail. Mostly 1-2" deep. Some snow must have fallen yesterday, because I can see some bike tracks buried under about an inch of snow. I'm clearly the first person on the trail today, though. I usually don't get my first snow riding in until early November! This is incredible!
Another good thing about singlespeeding in the snow is you don't have to worry about your chain skipping all over the place when your cassette gets caked with snow. This drivetrain is totally solid in these conditions.
I'd considered continuing onto the Swede Ridge trail, but I didn't bring my booties on this trip and my toes are going numb. Back to the car. I drive over the Cascades Lakes Highway and past Mount Bachelor, at which point the freshie is about 6 inches deep! Gawd, maybe I should have brought my skis!
I continue back down to the Lemish Lake trailhead. Here the elevation is only about 4800' and there are just a few patches of snow here and there. Here's the lake:
The ride was a total mud-fest, with much of the trail consisting of a 2 inch deep linear puddle. I only went a couple of miles in, but I was completely soaked, and caked in that gritty volcanic mud when I got back to the car. But it sure was fun, and a great way to top off 4 awesome days of singlespeeding in some of my favorite places!
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