Day 6
June 6, 2005
Well today was another horrific day turned around and made good. I’m serious, there was a stretch of about 8 miles where all I could think about was how much I was going to rant in the journal when I got to my laptop tonight. But luckily, there will be no ranting – not much anyway…
First, lets go back to last night. It started to rain shortly after my amazing fire roasted apple pie. I didn’t mind, it was getting a little late and I was looking forward to getting into the sleeping bag and knocking out a little journal action. However, even in the short time it took to lay out my journal for the day, it had gotten so cold my poor little fingers started to hurt as I desperately tried to finish the entry and get into the sleeping bag. It was so cold, if I didn’t have the “mummy style” sleeping bag I wouldn’t have gotten any sleep at all. I sunk down into the sleeping bag and closed off the space for my head and breathed as deeply as I could to generate enough heat for my upper body. Another great lesson learned last night: don’t set up camp on the top of a 4,000-foot plus hill.
This morning wasn’t much warmer. I broke down camp in record time desperate to head down the hill and get to warmer ground. It was a little warmer once I got down to Mitchell at the bottom, but the ride down to it was the coldest so far by a long shot. At least I was able to make good time. I made it down to Mitchell in about an hour, 16 miles from the top.
I got down to Mitchell and stopped in the little grocery store to get some food in me. I was pleased to find two other loaded cyclists hanging out in front of the store getting ready to set out. We chatted briefly about where we were headed. They, two guys, had started outside Astoria 8 days ago and were headed to NC on the Trans Am as well. We wished each other well and I headed for the phone booth to call and touch base with the folks back home.
After an hour of eating, hanging out and chatting with my grandmother on the phone and the locals in person I headed out. Coming out of Mitchell there’s a 7 mile climb up Keyes Creek Pass – 4,357 feet. As I was sitting on the bench enjoying my “Eighteen-Wheeler” hero sub sandwich, I noticed it was still pretty chilly and the clouds in the distance were coming closer. It didn’t take long for those clouds to catch up to me. I was about a mile up the road when the drizzle started, cold drizzle.
Sometimes I get on the bike and it seems like it weighs a hundred pounds, I think that’s because it does weigh a hundred pounds, or pretty close to it. Seriously, there are times when it feels like someone dropped a huge anchor on the back, I guess it’s just the ebb and flow of my legs and the amount of effort they’re willing to give from day to day. Today, on the way up the hill out of Mitchell, the anchor came back. And the ride up the Keyes Creek Pass isn’t as filled with switchbacks as I need. The switchbacks are great for the head game that goes along with tackling a hill, I’m not able to see how long and never-ending the climb is, it’s just one turn at a time. Today the hill was pretty much a straight shot; a long road of “you’ll never get there…”
So when you’re digging and digging with little to show for it, you begin to wonder what’s wrong with your bike, surely it’s not the operator that’s malfunctioning. I decided a little more pressure in the tires would help make things a little more efficient. Thankfully the rain had stopped for a while and I pulled off to pump the tire up a bit more.
The type of tire I have doesn’t use a typical bicycle tire valve, it’s skinnier with a little pin and nut in the middle that screws down to lock in the air. I ended up breaking that pin as I was pumping up the tire, rendering it, the inner tube, useless. You may remember, that was my spare. I forgot to get another and/or new patches in Sisters. I had to get out my original tube, with the bad patch on it, re-patch it, still with the bad patches, and change it out. As I was doing this, I noticed the next onslaught of clouds rapidly approaching. Thankfully, my prayers were answered and I was able to change out the tire before the torrents came. …And they did come.
No lie, just as I was getting on the bike the rain started to come. This time it wasn’t just a little drizzle. It was a pretty nice little shower and with it came nice little gusts and sleet. It was ridiculous. The good thing was I wasn’t as far from the summit as I thought I was, it only took me about another 20 minutes to reach the top, but it was a wet, chilly, rough 20 minutes.
And that’s when I started longing for the journal and a means by which to vent. Even as I was coming off the hill, it was still miserable. My feet were soaked and now freezing in the wind of the down hill ride – I just felt like an abused wet dog. But then the sun started to fight off the clouds and the last 10 miles to Dayville became bearable again.
Once I pulled into Dayville I started looking for a place to stop over for the night. As I was passing the town trading post, I noticed the two guys I met in Mitchell. They were planning on going another 30 miles or so past Dayville but unfortunately, one of them had pretty bad wheel trouble coming off the hill and had to hobble into Dayville and take care of his wheel. I stopped and chatted with them for a while and learned they were staying at the church up the road that acts as a bike hostel between funerals. They were really friendly and didn’t seem to mind my company so I hung out with them for a while while Chaz received his lesson in bicycle maintenance from the town expert - on everything, Steve. He and Chris are two friends that just graduated high school and flew out to begin their journey the day after their graduation. They are spanning the country to increase awareness for AIDS in Africa and an organization called the Amani Children Foundation. After a while we decided to snag a few pizzas from the store and cook them back at the hostel - I didn't know Chris was going to grab enough for a little salad to go along with it, we had quite a meal - "roughin' it" the way it was meant to be done..! I decided to head up and scope the situation out and make sure we’d be set at the church.
The people here at the Dayville Presbyterian couldn’t have a nicer setup. They have a fully functional kitchen, bathroom with shower, washer/dryer, internet access, piano for impromptu cyclist sing-a-longs – very nice. Many thanks to them for letting us, along with many other cyclists, use their facilities. Long story short, and I know that doesn’t happen often on this journal, the three of us ended up having the best little pizza party on TransAmerica Trail.
It was really nice to meet up with those guys and hang out for the night. We’re headed in the same direction so I’m gonna try to keep up and tag along for the next few days or so.
So there it is: a bad day turned around. Even when things do take a turn for the worse and aren’t the most ideal of circumstances, I’m still able to enjoy things for what they are – if only barely. And then when they flip around and all’s well again, it just seems that much better for what I had to go through to get there.
We’ll see what tomorrow has in store…
Today: 57.53 miles Total: 320.14 miles
Well today was another horrific day turned around and made good. I’m serious, there was a stretch of about 8 miles where all I could think about was how much I was going to rant in the journal when I got to my laptop tonight. But luckily, there will be no ranting – not much anyway…
First, lets go back to last night. It started to rain shortly after my amazing fire roasted apple pie. I didn’t mind, it was getting a little late and I was looking forward to getting into the sleeping bag and knocking out a little journal action. However, even in the short time it took to lay out my journal for the day, it had gotten so cold my poor little fingers started to hurt as I desperately tried to finish the entry and get into the sleeping bag. It was so cold, if I didn’t have the “mummy style” sleeping bag I wouldn’t have gotten any sleep at all. I sunk down into the sleeping bag and closed off the space for my head and breathed as deeply as I could to generate enough heat for my upper body. Another great lesson learned last night: don’t set up camp on the top of a 4,000-foot plus hill.
This morning wasn’t much warmer. I broke down camp in record time desperate to head down the hill and get to warmer ground. It was a little warmer once I got down to Mitchell at the bottom, but the ride down to it was the coldest so far by a long shot. At least I was able to make good time. I made it down to Mitchell in about an hour, 16 miles from the top.
I got down to Mitchell and stopped in the little grocery store to get some food in me. I was pleased to find two other loaded cyclists hanging out in front of the store getting ready to set out. We chatted briefly about where we were headed. They, two guys, had started outside Astoria 8 days ago and were headed to NC on the Trans Am as well. We wished each other well and I headed for the phone booth to call and touch base with the folks back home.
After an hour of eating, hanging out and chatting with my grandmother on the phone and the locals in person I headed out. Coming out of Mitchell there’s a 7 mile climb up Keyes Creek Pass – 4,357 feet. As I was sitting on the bench enjoying my “Eighteen-Wheeler” hero sub sandwich, I noticed it was still pretty chilly and the clouds in the distance were coming closer. It didn’t take long for those clouds to catch up to me. I was about a mile up the road when the drizzle started, cold drizzle.
Sometimes I get on the bike and it seems like it weighs a hundred pounds, I think that’s because it does weigh a hundred pounds, or pretty close to it. Seriously, there are times when it feels like someone dropped a huge anchor on the back, I guess it’s just the ebb and flow of my legs and the amount of effort they’re willing to give from day to day. Today, on the way up the hill out of Mitchell, the anchor came back. And the ride up the Keyes Creek Pass isn’t as filled with switchbacks as I need. The switchbacks are great for the head game that goes along with tackling a hill, I’m not able to see how long and never-ending the climb is, it’s just one turn at a time. Today the hill was pretty much a straight shot; a long road of “you’ll never get there…”
So when you’re digging and digging with little to show for it, you begin to wonder what’s wrong with your bike, surely it’s not the operator that’s malfunctioning. I decided a little more pressure in the tires would help make things a little more efficient. Thankfully the rain had stopped for a while and I pulled off to pump the tire up a bit more.
The type of tire I have doesn’t use a typical bicycle tire valve, it’s skinnier with a little pin and nut in the middle that screws down to lock in the air. I ended up breaking that pin as I was pumping up the tire, rendering it, the inner tube, useless. You may remember, that was my spare. I forgot to get another and/or new patches in Sisters. I had to get out my original tube, with the bad patch on it, re-patch it, still with the bad patches, and change it out. As I was doing this, I noticed the next onslaught of clouds rapidly approaching. Thankfully, my prayers were answered and I was able to change out the tire before the torrents came. …And they did come.
No lie, just as I was getting on the bike the rain started to come. This time it wasn’t just a little drizzle. It was a pretty nice little shower and with it came nice little gusts and sleet. It was ridiculous. The good thing was I wasn’t as far from the summit as I thought I was, it only took me about another 20 minutes to reach the top, but it was a wet, chilly, rough 20 minutes.
And that’s when I started longing for the journal and a means by which to vent. Even as I was coming off the hill, it was still miserable. My feet were soaked and now freezing in the wind of the down hill ride – I just felt like an abused wet dog. But then the sun started to fight off the clouds and the last 10 miles to Dayville became bearable again.
Once I pulled into Dayville I started looking for a place to stop over for the night. As I was passing the town trading post, I noticed the two guys I met in Mitchell. They were planning on going another 30 miles or so past Dayville but unfortunately, one of them had pretty bad wheel trouble coming off the hill and had to hobble into Dayville and take care of his wheel. I stopped and chatted with them for a while and learned they were staying at the church up the road that acts as a bike hostel between funerals. They were really friendly and didn’t seem to mind my company so I hung out with them for a while while Chaz received his lesson in bicycle maintenance from the town expert - on everything, Steve. He and Chris are two friends that just graduated high school and flew out to begin their journey the day after their graduation. They are spanning the country to increase awareness for AIDS in Africa and an organization called the Amani Children Foundation. After a while we decided to snag a few pizzas from the store and cook them back at the hostel - I didn't know Chris was going to grab enough for a little salad to go along with it, we had quite a meal - "roughin' it" the way it was meant to be done..! I decided to head up and scope the situation out and make sure we’d be set at the church.
The people here at the Dayville Presbyterian couldn’t have a nicer setup. They have a fully functional kitchen, bathroom with shower, washer/dryer, internet access, piano for impromptu cyclist sing-a-longs – very nice. Many thanks to them for letting us, along with many other cyclists, use their facilities. Long story short, and I know that doesn’t happen often on this journal, the three of us ended up having the best little pizza party on TransAmerica Trail.
It was really nice to meet up with those guys and hang out for the night. We’re headed in the same direction so I’m gonna try to keep up and tag along for the next few days or so.
So there it is: a bad day turned around. Even when things do take a turn for the worse and aren’t the most ideal of circumstances, I’m still able to enjoy things for what they are – if only barely. And then when they flip around and all’s well again, it just seems that much better for what I had to go through to get there.
We’ll see what tomorrow has in store…
Today: 57.53 miles Total: 320.14 miles
posted by SuperByron3000 at 6/07/2005
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