Tlools Valley Through Hike a Bike

An ill conceived idea? Maybe, but it had been on my mind for quite some time to ride out and hike a bike through the Tlools drainage from the north to south. At only 15 km how hard could it be? The Big Johnson and I set off to give it a try on Saturday evening after work. Geoff and Ftom accompanied us to our first night campsite at Apple Point on Brewster Lake.

Saturday night crew, The Big Johnson, Geoff, Me, Ftom.

Apple Point, ended up quiet except for some croaking

Sunday morning The Big Johnson and I set off  for Jessie Lake and the north end of the Tlools Valley.
Once reaching the end of the road we eventually found a rough trail that led us to Myra lake. We were feeling good about our progress, that was about to change! The forest was mostly very challenging to make headway with the occasional short section of relatively easy going.

Loaded Krampus w old rail trestle in background

Easy bush

Sulfur Shelf  Fungus

Mostly we were on the inside looking out

Myra Lake looking north

Scaly Vase Chanterelle

Thistle Meadow they started out hub high ended up over the handle bars!

Tlools lake is fed only by snow melt

MY Krampus The Big Johnson in the distance on his Krampus

Return to the forest

Filtering water at Hawarth Lake

Night two camp

Tlools creek

I took very few pictures on the third day, it was simply "get on with it" time, and we did. Physically it is devastating, pushing/pulling/lifting/lowering/dragging a fully loaded bike through trail-less forest. I think my text response to Geoff  sums it up best.

  Geoff:  How was the hike a bike? 

  Me:  15hr over two days of hell, 16 for Greg. Huge trees down, lots of them, massive boulders a plenty, wind shrapnel everywhere, wasps and Devils Club.
12 stings total 9 for Greg.
Beautiful lakes, awesome meadow of Thistle, head high.
Tired, beaten, bused and sore.
Been there done that, no need to go back.

  Geoff: So to sum it up in one word was it "fun"?

  Me: Rewarding

And so it was, for part of day three Greg and I had gone our separate ways, Greg preferring the creek and me the forest. In reality I feel we both needed to suffer alone.
When I reached the end of the valley I felt great joy I had made it, then guilt. Where is Greg? Is he OK? He had looked so tired. How long do I wait before going back or calling for a search. My head was swimming in thought. I sat down cooked and ate some noodles, I began to formulate a plan. A familiar sound? A disk brake squealing in protest pierced the forest and Greg arrived.  He was smiling.

 

UPDATED 2015 Oregon Outback, Like a Rolling Stone

Part one:  Flat

Flat, the first half of the first day the Oregon Outback is flat. And so was I. I peddled and peddled waiting to feel just a hint of something, but all I got was flat, flat and a slightly elevated heart rate for the effort.
My plan this year was to ride "straight through" little stopping, no real sleeping, maybe a 10min cat nap or two when the hallucinations set in. Klamath Falls Oregon to the Deschutes River Recreation area in under 48 hours total time. 580 Km it two days, should be doable, but I was flat. And with flat came a change of plan, plan B. At Silver Lake, I chose to move to a three day ride with my fellow Campbell River riders. Geoff, Kiya (The Kid), and Glen (The Hoff).

Did I mention it rained? Most of the first day it drizzled, except for the hail and downpour late in the afternoon this of course meant the sky was flat. The forecast had been for rain in the morning and clearing through out the evening and night to sunny on Saturday Sunday. So why carry any sleeping gear? After all the plan was to ride all night. My condition of flatness and the decision made to move to a three day ride, I suddenly realized I had no camping gear! We were hanging out at Silver Lake Mercantile and Motel when Les the owner announced that the local Pastor O'Leary had opened his shop for us all to camp in and there was a fire! Night solved, I would sleep next to the fire, we ate hotdogs, purchased beer and headed for the barn.

My palate mattress in the foreground! maybe 40 or so people slept in various buildings at the O'Leary Ranch. That's The Hoff in the orange cap

Ready to sleep

The  night passed fairly well, I got up to pee every two hours until 3:30 when I began to shiver a bit, finally about 4:45 I added some wood to the fire and started to warm back up. I had thought I would head out about 4am and possibly ride the rest of the way in one big push, however the nonstop rain seemed to make the mattress all the more attractive and a late start it was. a fairly uneventful day two took us from Pastor O'Learys shop to Prineville past  Fort Rock.

Fort Rock

The Hoff's Copper something or another

Gratuitous flower shot

The Crooked River

Part Two: I never was much for the Rolling Stones

As the day continues we roll into Prineville and head straight to Ochocco Brewing Company, I am thinking of a hotel room for the night, maybe 4 hours sleep a shower and finish this off. I have not told anyone about the pain in my right Achilles it has come on late in the day and is close to bringing a tear to my eye, but when I step off the bike in the pub the pain is gone! A beer miracle? As we learn there are no rooms available in Prineville, I am asked by the pub owner Joe where we are staying the night, I respond "on your deck" he looks confused and answers Ok! As the evening goes on Joe learns myself and our new American friend Scott have no camping gear and arranges matts, sleeping bags and pillows for us! Next thing you along comes Pepper with all the sleeping gear! Thank you Pepper! Did we have a fire on the deck? You bet! Pepper got that going for us also!

After several trips to relieve myself, 4am came quickly and the pain I felt every time got up during the night is gone. We pack up and continue.

We climb directly out of Prineville into the Ochoco National Forest and the rising sun.

Geoff and The Kid, the true climbing has yet to begin

From the crest of the climb begins the decent into Trout Creek Valley and on to the town of Ashwood (there ain't much in Ashwood!). From Ashwood you climb again up onto and across a high plateau then you descend down into Antelope. Antelope was made famous by the Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh. Once in Antelope there is a small city park with water this is a good place to recover, drink and prepare yourself for the climb up to Shaniko.

Trout Creek Valley

High plateau between Ashwood and Antelope

Help needed for The Hoff!

The Hoff, The Kid, and Scott, Antelope was kinder to some than others!

The feeling climbing the road to Shaniko was different this year, there were other riders, it was mid day, strangely I missed the morning mist and solitude of last year and I focused on that, keeping my mind off my screaming Achilles tendon. Shaniko awaited and past that the Rollers of Doom!

Goldie's Ice Cream Bar in Shaniko

When you ride out of Shaniko there is a stretch of rolling pavement, it was here my pace slowed as I struggled more and more to find relief from pain ultimately at the turn off to gravel and the Rollers of Doom I could take no more, I found a ride to the Deschutes River Recreation area in a car. Strangely, I wasn't unhappy. I had not rode as I intended, I had mostly rode feeling flat, I had not finished the 2015 Oregon Outback but I was happy, satisfied even, I guess in spite the drugs and alcohol the Rolling Stones got it right, I didn't get the ride I wanted but I just might have got the ride I needed.

Solitude and suffering was replaced with friendships old and new, and while the ride still was not easy, I gained a new appreciation for slowing down to take it all in.

The End:  

You Cant Always Get What You Want, But if You Try Sometimes, You Just Might Find, You Get What You Need

After Thoughts and Shit Stains:

It is coming up upon a month since the 2015 running of the Oregon Outback, plenty of time to reflect upon the personal experience. With all the news that has come to light of disrespectful Oregon Outback participants, perhaps now is the time to reflect upon our impact on the people and communities that shared their homes/businesses with us. I experienced graceful, giving, welcoming people everywhere along the Outback route, I had thought the locals experience of the riders would be similar. Apparently not. As a self appointed ambassador of cycling this weighs heavy on me and it should on you. For right or wrong as riders we are all painted with the same brush in the non riding public's eye. Currently that brush is shit brown.

Death of The Oregon Outback

Things Are Heating Up !

This is my current cooking system for most adventures.  My reality is most trips are one or two nights and I find this setup compact, fast to boil and very fuel efficient. What more do you need? Sure I could save a few ounces by using my pop can stove, but it is slower, less safe and a bit nitpicky to operate.
I am sure when I am able to adventure further afield and availability of canisters is in question I will choose a different setup but for now this is my go to!

All packed up

The stuff

Cooking mode

Ridin the Rails

The idea seemed to suck me in, ride the unused E&N railway from Victoria, my home town to Courtenay, then ride the remaining 50 odd kilometers home on the Duncan Bay Mainline logging road for a total distance of 285ish KM. Somehow that morphed and I added the Parksville to Port Alberni for a grand total of 400 KM. What was I thinking?
I started in Victoria at 5am at Mile 0 and rode about through town into Vic West hooking up with the rails by the front doors Trek/Pro City Cycles. Using a paved walking path that parallels the rails we easily made our way to the first section of true rail riding. Bang! The balloon  burst, riding the ties is rough, very rough, fricking rough! 400 odd K of this? But I am optimistic there has to be some bad with the good, and so it goes. The thing is as far as a riding surface there is a lot more bad than good, a lot more. But the quality of ride has many measures and for me this was a very grand experience. I prepared gear poorly, forgetting a spare tube, forgetting to put some Stan's sealant into my tubes as planned, and forgetting my little pill bottle full of various over the counter drugs I always carry in case of lower back muscle spasm, I would need them all, I would have none.

As a child growing up in Victoria I remember walking the tracks in early August looking for for a perfect patch of blackberries, ah shit! Blackberries, and there they were, and where there are Blackberries there are thorns, thorns you could not avoid, oh those effin thorns. By Shawnigan Lake I had a flat, it was barely holding air, I had removed all the thorns I could find from my tire and patched the one hole in the tube I could find, but still I needed to stop and pump it up every 45 min or so. No worries, if I can make it to Duncan there are three bike shops and hopefully I can get a tube and some Stan's, no luck all the stores are closed, I ride on. Just north of Duncan I am having to pump up the tube every half hour, then things get worse, I stop and pump up the tube AGAIN, and it goes flat almost immediately, What the Ffff!
Once again I take out the tube and search it and the tire for thorns, this is the fourth time, lots of thorns in the tire  but I can't find any holes in the tube? I reinstall the tube and tire, it holds air? WTF? I ride on an hour and a half or so later it is flat and so it goes. The tire goes flat the riding gets rougher, much rougher. I am thinking to myself, surprisingly all the grief has been from the front tire the back has held air like a champ! I am still optimistic perhaps there is a bike shop in Nanaimo open on Sundays?  I am just arriving into the small town of Ladysmith and my front tire now only holds air for about 15 min, my back is on fire from the constant pounding from the irregularly spaced ties, this is a low point, I think of calling for a rescue ride, I don't, I would not be able to forgive myself, I ride on but I have abandoned the rails for pavement. I have a plan, if I am lucky the gas station up ahead will have one of those cans of auto tire sealant, no luck. So I sit in the grass eating a Teen Burger and drinking a Root Beer Shake pondering what to do. It has not escaped me that my decision to post hourly photos via Instagram and Facebook has made my failing visible to anyone that cares to look. Then it happens Facebook comes to the rescue, Bryan posts a question, "how is the ride going"? and through that thread I am rescued by Andrew, new tube, some Stan's, some organic chocolate, a beer, and a bit of catching up about solo life with a bike.

Samsung S3 photo

Holy Crap! I am good to go and so back to the rails. The next bit of riding is fairly uneventfully rough, I pedal on. My back is not my friend but I am stubborn, at the next food stop Jamie from Destiny River Adventures, walks up and offers me a ride home, it is tempting. At this point it is hard to lift my leg over the bike my back wants to stop me. I ride on, more rails, more pounding. It is dark, I pound on, no I am pounded on, pedal, pedal, pedal, and so it goes. Another flat, the rear tire this time, I pump it up hoping I can get to Parksville and fix it in the light of urbanness. I have to stop three more times before I find a well lit spot to make the repair, more thorns. I install the last tube and admit defeat, I am broken, it must show an employee cleaning the store comes out and asks if I am OK. With defeat comes a loss of  some motivation, the remaining 120 KM home will be on asphalt and with that I pedal on into the darkness without and within. When I arrive home it has been more than 27 hours riding a bike, ya I did stop and nap twice for 10-15 min each time, and there were those "breaks" to repair flats. And considering the distance was not great and the average speed was slow, I am happy, i have new knowledge about me and my gear, and I will but it to use on bigger adventures.