Oh Lovely Oregon

The Oregon border is marked by a wonderful and large ‘Welcome to Oregon’ sign. On the opposite side a diminutive ‘welcome to california’. It’s literally a tenth of the size. So with this modest farewell – a reminder of Califonia’s lack of public funds, we felt a little sad leaving our wonderful welcome to the USA.

The most immediate difference after the change in road quality was the bicycle lane road markings. The painted Oregon cyclist in the bike lane had no helmet. Poor thing.

In Orick, the campground toilets were locked. In Brookings, we saw deer. In Port Orford, we thought of everyone at home and wished we were at Charlie and Mikaela’s wedding. In Mapleton, we camped in the heat beside an empty swimming pool and in Eugene, we discovered that asking for directions will get you a lift to the supermarket!

Eugene, is a fine college town, that boasts more than one micro brewery. But with a 5 am starts to beat the heat – it’s the second beer that hurts the next day.

Oregon was also the official start of the Trans America route for us and we were full of anticipation. We were able to begin following Keith and Jeff’s book on their 1976 tour, ‘It’s all uphill’. It was fair to say some places haven’t changed since they visited in 1976, and the hills certainly haven’t gotten any easier.

It wasn’t long before we hit our first big climb, a 22 mile stretch rising to over 5000 feet at McKenzie Pass. Worth the effort though, as we reached the top we saw three snow capped mountains, glaciated volcanic peaks, surrounded by ancient lava flows as far as the eye could see. The whole way down we craved ice cream covered in chocolate sauce….

We came down to earth in ‘Sisters’ a tourist hub at the base of the Three Sister mountains. Think ‘High noon at the ok corral’ meets Lorne (or Tramore) in high summer. We rode on and ended up off route in Smith Rock, a spectacular canyon perfect for rock climbers. Smith rock is also an eagle nesting ground, we were told some of the nests weighed up to 1000 kilograms. It was the most visually stunning place we’d yet been to and it was hard to leave in the morning.

The next day was seriously hot. Jack resorted to peanut butter milkshakes and I was none too happy at the end of the day, knowing there would be no shower. Mitchell, our destination, was a dying town that hasn’t seen much development since the mining rush over 100 years ago. We learnt in depth about the economy from an obliging local. The Mosquitos were horrific and I was almost about to say ‘this was all your idea’ when we discovered an oasis, the Oregon Motel, complete with bathtub. Happy days again.

It was here we met fellow cyclists riding the TransAm- Ellen & Joe, Bruce & Clay. We traded notes and stories on the hotel porch until dark. Ellen and Joe, a couple in their sixties were riding a fantastic ‘bike friday’ tandem with trailer. Clay, a history teacher from Washington state was completing an unfinished TransAm after having to cease his first attempt due to injury. His cycle blog is titled ‘unfinished business’.

It was greatly encouraging to meet others cycling the transam too. And so, we felt a lot more confident riding the next dry stretch to the gold mining town of the wild west, Baker City. It also meant a much needed rest day, and a bed with sheets.