Cycling Sojourner

Heading to Jacksonville

The Willamette Valley wine country is an national darling—a well earned status, no doubt. But the bike tourist/oenophile  in me thought it was about time to turn my ‘eye of Sauron’ to the lesser known Rogue Valley in Southern Oregon, a place that my touring partner and co-conspirator Julianna calls the “Wild West of Oregon wine.”

Southern Oregon Wine Country

Our mini-bike tour loop from Ashland multi-tasked several things: I held a fabulous book event at Standing Stone Brewery (thanks, SSB!); I scouted a tour for the second edition of Cycling Sojourner (fingers crossed!); and I answered the demand of my devilish accomplice and virgin cycle tourist, Julianna, when she exclaimed, “Take me on a tour!” (Princesa!)

Jules throwing back a delicious cold one at Standing Stone

Princesa and me

I will share the tour highlights with you.

Found: Beginner’s Tour in Oregon

Oregon has an inordinate amount of luscious cycling opportunities. Yet, beautiful beginner tours are less abundant. The Southern Oregon tour where I dragged Julianna was cherry: low mileages, pastoral landscapes occasionally punctuated with snow-capped mountains in the distance, interesting wine tasting stops, orchards, and options for overnight lodging. If you’re trying to seduce someone on the fence to come bike touring with you, this is a stellar option.

Julianna on her first tour (badass!)

Ashland

Don’t get me started. I love Ashland. Between the Shakespeare Festival, outdoor fanatics, great food, and stellar cycling, this town shines. Plus, the bicycle university, the United Bicycle Institute, is there. As an alum, it was awesome to get a chance to see their fabulous new set up. They are rocking it!

Adorable roadside second hand / craft store

Jacksonville

It was a pleasure to stay in this historic hamlet that totally overindulges in outdoor activities, wine, B&B’s, summer festivals, and tasty vittles. You won’t need to twist my arm to go back to Jacksonville. The Touvelle House was generous enough to host the Cycling Sojourner crew. This was fortuitous for Julianna, a Craftsman era junky. She ooed and awed over each architectural flare and antique splendor (there were many). Staying at the Touvelle House was a boon for me because 1) their beds were pillowy euphoria and 2) the owners let me play with Lewis and Clark, their ADORABLE pugs. Gary and Tim were hosts with the most.

Pug magic at the Touvelle House

Cycling

I heart the Bear Creek Greenway. This 21-mile multi-use path that connects Ashland to Central Point is a huge benefit to the communities it touches, both from the transportation and recreation perspective. You can take the BCG partway when cycling towards Jacksonville from Ashland. Otherwise, you can take scenic, roller coastery backroads that wind you past grazing horses, farm properties adorned with rose bushes, and a patchwork of forested lands.

Bear Creek Greenway

After talking to a number of weathered Ashland cyclists, we were convinced into doing a day ride from Jacksonville instead of moving on each day of our three-day tour. The Ashlandites were right on. The loop from Jacksonville around Woodrat Mountain was a dollop of cycling ambrosia with low traffic roads surrounded by sylvan canopies, mountain vistas, wineries along the way, and enough up and downs to make it interesting without handing you your toosh. The last bit on Hwy 238 was more trafficked, but that was a quick blip in the day.

Ride Around Woodrat Mountain

More to come on this in the second edition of Cycling Sojourner. I know you’re on the edge of your seat. For now, get you the first one. Hawt.

; )

Hey y’all,

I thought I’d give you the heads up that I posted an extra tour chapter on my website. It’s a two-day tour-cito from Portland. It’s a big smootchie thank you for being awesome supporters and getting stoked about cycle touring in Oregon! If you like the chapter, grab yourself a book from my website.

In case you’re interested, here are a couple of my old posts about researching the Vernonia-Banks Trail and Rocky Point Rd, which are both in this chapter.

Hope everyone has fabulous summer cycling adventures lined up!

By the way, if you are going to be in Ashland this Thursday. Come hang out with me at a book event at Standing Stone Brewing at 5:30pm. Let your Ashland buddies know!

Cheers!

Hey, y’all. Just wanted to pass on a link to the Oregonian review of Cycling Sojourner in last week’s paper. I’m pleased they like it, even though they highlighted some incriminating photos. My duck hunting uncle would be abashed at my shooting form.

Hey y’all!

I wanted to pass along my missive in bikeportland.org about my mind boggling experience as a support person at the grueling Trans Iowa 330-mile endurance gravel road race. Enjoy!

And, I hope to see you at my book launch for Cycling Sojourner this Tuesday the 8th at River City Bicycles in Portland. It’s at 6:30pm and there will be beer ; )

I want to give props to the team of people who helped create Cycling Sojourner. They dealt with stressful email flurries, razor-toothed deadlines, version after version after version of drafts, requests for a 1/2 mm icon shift to the right, extensive conversations about em dashes and Chicago vs New York schools of punctuation…and the list goes on. (p.s. I am sorry to those members who had to interact with me for extended periods of time while I donned PJ’s and scrunched look on my face, as I nested in piles of paper.)

I love them for going through this incredibly complicated, all-encompassing process with me. And I actually I just love them. If you know one of them and love them too, feel free to leave a comment at the end of the post saying how awesome you think they are.

Editor – Lucy Burningham

www.lucyburningham.com

Lucy is a writer who covers food, drink and travel for a variety of publications, including The New York Times, Saveur, Sunset, Bicycling, Imbibe and Lonely Planet guidebooks. She’s worked as a journalist for the past 12 years and holds a masters degree in nonfiction writing from Portland State University. Lucy is currently combining two of her greatest passions by writing “Hop in the Saddle: a Guide to Portland’s Craft Beer Scene, by Bike” with Ellee Thalheimer.

Designer – Joe Biel

www.cantankeroustitles.com

Joe is a writer, designer, activist, journalist and founder of Microcosm Publishing and Cantankerous Titles. He teaches film at the NW Documentary Center and is completing the new feature documentary Aftermass: Bicycling in a Post-Critical Mass Portland.

Cover Designer – Laura Cary

www.carydesigngroup.com

After graphic designer Laura Cary graduated from Rhode Island School of Design, she followed her wanderlust west. She began in San Francisco, where her design clients ranged from bicycle companies to the opera. In Portland, Oregon, Laura founded Cary Design Group, a brand and identity firm. Portland has provided a welcome sense of community, bold entrepreneurial spirit and support of her love of the outdoors. Laura lives in North Portland with her husband, their son, two dogs and nine bikes.

Maps – Jeff Smith

Jeff’s two favorite things are cycling and maps…or is it the other way around? When not on his bike or pouring over a good map he’s gainfully employed by the City of Portland’s Bureau of Transportation, where he’s involved in promoting bicycling, including mapping for cyclists. Not sure, but there may be a pattern here.

Public Liaison – Elly Blue

www.takingthelane.com

I live in Portland, Oregon and write about bicycle transportation. My work has appeared in Grist, Bitch, BikePortland, Momentum, Reclaim, and elsewhere. I also co-run PDX by Bike, a business that helps people find their way around Portland by bicycle, and a nonprofit business alliance called the Portland Society. Currently, I’m working on writing and publishing two books.

Road rage can be a precious thing. Hear me out.

Have you ever ridden your bike just behind a souped up SUV that’s swerving slowly towards the right side curb as the driver text messages? And after you pass this effer (delivering a steely stare as you go by that says ‘you’re an effer,’) he peels out to catch you at the next stop sign and screams that you’re the reason why people hate cyclists.

I have experienced this.

Afterwards, I white-knuckled my handlebars, thought of all the things I should have said, and muttered epithets all the way to -funny enough- my yoga class. I regretfully admit that a base part of me fantasized about taking a bike lock to his glittering paint job. Of course, that’s horrible.

Point being, I seldomly feel the 9.1 Richter Scale anger that road rage inspires.

In a car, I also feel similar anger when I get cut off and given the finger by a  spidery hipster who leaves me with the harassing last image of his gaunt, pasty butt cheeks, like bread dough failed to rise, peaking out of skinny jeans. (And I’m the one who usually think hipsters are quite adorable with their lattes and ironic ’80s flair.)

Road rage. Everyone has a story or 50 similar to the above. The boiling anger and seething ferocity that froths up around these incidents totally sucks. I despise feeling all my bristles standing on edge and like my nails are about to spring into claws. In these situations, adrenalin dissolves all of my fear, and I kind of feel like a werewolf.

I am a cyclist, motorist, and pedestrian, so I can’t demonize “those cyclists!” or “those car drivers!” But I can see how other people do. That dynamic builds hate, perpetuates the enmity that divides us, and does no good. To blame one group is surely to miss the truth of the matter.

(And, everyone makes mistakes. Maybe give the SUV the benefit of the doubt. Why not? He’s the one who has to drive around in a car all day.)

Coming back full circle to yoga and why road rage can be precious. Imagine an evening meditation class about compassion, patience, and tolerance. The Dalai Lama is quoted:

“Out of [all afflictive or negative emotions,] hatred and anger are the greatest obstacles to developing compassion and altruism, and they destroy one’s virtue and calmness of mind…Our power of judgement becomes inoperable…It’s almost like you have become insane.”

This meditation class is taught in a tank-top-warm yoga studio, equipped with trendy loft-style windows and “Serenity” incense burning unobtrusively in the corner. Rosy-cheeked yoga students perch like happy Lululemon sparrows on fluffy Feng Shui-arranged cushions on a hardwood floor spotless enough to lick.

In comparison to a space designed for optimal chakra balance, the site of a near collision at busy intersection presents a distilled situation incredibly prone to causing rage. A perfect Incredible Hulk scenario is created, and it can be a lazer sharp opportunity to make yourself a better (less angry) person and not unleash a raging beast.

Trying to calm yourself down and finding equilibrium after a road rage incident is like hand-to-hand combat, whereas seeking calm in meditation is like non-contact sparing with bottle of mineral water nearby. Dealing with road rage is a heavy-weight, double-diamond way to hone skills -that you’ve learned in meditation or otherwise- and cultivate positive action.

“Hatred has no benefit at all. It is always totally negative,” says the Dalai Lama. In the spirit of turning an instance of hate or anger into a learning moment, road rage can be an ugly little gift. By raising awareness of your emotions after a road rage incident and not giving into the negativity, you participate in a grand form of transportation activism by not perpetuating divisiveness. Go you.

It’s not easy to give the person who almost ran you over the benefit of the doubt. (And by not easy, I mean damned hard.) Maybe they were just laid off or dumped or had a rough night. Maybe they are just an ignorant fuddly-dink, and you try to have compassion for that. Maybe you don’t think about it too much and just let it go because the anger only harms you. However you want to frame it is your own business.

Road rage sucks. But I’m not quite satisfied with leaving it passively at that. Road rage is also like Robert Frost’s fork in the road, for better or worse.

* Quotes from “The Art of Happiness” by HH Dalai Lama and Howard C. Cutler

I told all my friends that I was as good as out of town, cancelled a couple of yoga classes I was teaching, and left the entirety of the house work and food responsibilities to my dear husband, bless his heart. My book deadline wasn’t a forgiving one. After about three months of non-stop toiling over synonyms, icon placement, cue sheet format, and photo edits, one damn fine guidebook is on the way (and I get to see my friends again.) Heck yeah.

Therefore, I’ll be posting on my blog again. So happy to be in touch with you after all this time. I’m already scheming this summer’s bike tours/book events around the Northwest, and there’s lots of other exciting happenings down the pipe. Subscribe to receive posts on my home page!

To bring you up to speed, bikeportland gave Cycling Sojourner a fantastic review, as did Bike Around Bend. The book is hitting the shelves in May. For a chance to celebrate with me and get one of the first copies on the market, get yourself down to River City Bicycles on Tuesday, May 8th at 6:30pm. I’ll be saying a few words, showing a few photos, and indulging in nibbles and refreshments with everyone. Come on out! See you soon.

This is a guest post from my fabulous husband/bike racer, Joe Partridge, who I’ve convinced to go touring with me over the years.

So, you’re a fit recreational rider or racer. You think nothing of riding a sub-6 hour century or maybe eeking out a win at the local Cat 3 Masters road race. Touring should be a piece of cake for you, right? Well, it might be….but only if you can adjust your gear (but mostly your attitude) for the touring experience.

Racer Joe

I myself had a spot of trouble making the adjustment from racer to tourist during my first multi-day trip. My frustration started early; I was used to starting a ride at an easy pace, but after an hour of tootling along I wondered when the ‘real ride’ was going to start.

Touring Joe

Then, just as I was starting to get into a groove, we pulled to the side of the road for lunch. I quickly choked down an energy bar and was ready to get back on my bike. Meanwhile, my riding partner had unpacked bread, hummus, mustard and an avocado and was starting to make a sandwich.

Clearly, we were not on the same page.

That entire first day was full of similar challenges. My partner (the author of this book) was an experienced cycle tourist who understood the pleasure of seeing the world from the seat of a bicycle. I was still locked in the racer mindset and in the habit of staring at my heart rate monitor and the rear wheel of the rider in front of me.

The low average speed (10 MPH!) didn’t jibe with how sore I was feeling; pushing 50 pounds of bike and gear up two passes and 5000ft is hard work even at that pace. Over dinner, my partner wanted to talk about the sights we’d seen and the people we’d met. She could recall the feeling of the cool breeze at the top of the long climb; the way the river looked so different from 4000 feet up than it did when we crossed it on a wooden bridge hours earlier; and the funny hat that the store owner tried to sell her at our lunch stop.

It was then that I started to understand that we were having two different experiences. I was having a crappy training ride, and she was having a great touring adventure. I committed to really opening myself to the experience during the next day’s ride. And I have been enjoying touring ever since.

Touring Joe by Ocean

Instead, it is all the stopping! You might stop to explore an interesting historical landmark. Stopping for lunch at a local diner is a must. Why suck down warm energy drink when you can stop for a hand-made milkshake?

Like road racing, touring is often a group activity. Unlike road racing, groups of cycle tourists can contain riders of differing experience and fitness levels. Racers often have a strong urge to be the first rider to the top of a hill or to “turn the screws” a bit during a tough pull into the wind. Though dropping other riders is fun on the weekly training ride, sticking with the group during a tour pays dividends.

After all, the “winner” in touring is the person that has the most fun, not the person that gets to the hotel first.

Fun! Winners!

Steens from a back road (oh, wait, that's all there is out there)

Gravel grinding.  It’s something lots of roadies cringe at.  I, myself, admit that smooth black top is like riding through sweet cream and gravel can be like riding through vegetable scraps (no offense to the vegans).  BUT I like gravel for several reasons…

On the way back from Mickey Hot Springs

After completing the Dirty Kanza a couple of years ago, I can certainly testify that some people like to mash on gravel (not me; I guess the tortouise is my spirit animal). 

But, in general, gravel slows you down. For normal folks on a bike tour, gravel lends a scabrous hand to assist you in smelling the roses….or the sage brush, as was the case near the Steens Mountain Range.

 

Do to life not being fair, Joe and I had to de-epic one of the most epic rides in my book.  We regretably embraced a modified tour, but the trip could’ve entailed carrying 3 gallons of water each, plus gear and supplies for backcountry camping. Though there was some pavement riding, a wuss bike won’t do the trick. 

Joe and I have a tour date with you next spring, Southeastern Oregon!

In Southeastern Oregon you are truly at the mercy of a formidable, sometimes caustic, environment where only the most stubborn of species survive. It’s also a place whose beauty will never be called pretty as much as sublime.  The landscape-with its deserts, lashing sun, praires unfurling forever and towering mountains-will hang your soul in it moisture-sucking winds and beat the urban trappings and city grit off of you like a dirty mat.  It is truly stunning.

Mickey Hotsprings

 A tragedy happend on our trip.  I accidentally erased a number of my photos. We saw bonafide, tried-and-true, lasso-that-doggie cow people.  Now, I would have said cowboys, but we also saw a cowgirl. She was awesome.  They were herding cattle and very sweet and wearing wranglers.  I lost the photos, dadgummit.  There was one cowboy with ironic glasses and a feather in his hat. He was pure preciousness.

End of the day

My summer and fall have been full of amazing people and fabulous research. I love Oregon…. now it’s time to start spending more QT in my writer hole.  Thanks for coming along for the ride. 

On another very important but different note, this is a petition to Dateline NBS to air a piece about Mark Bosworth, the volunteer who went missing at Cycle Oregon this summer.  Hopefully, this exposure will help lead to some answers.  For more info, go to www.findmark.org.

….but when you’re faced with a 70-mile day with two snow-covered passes in remote Eastern OR, it seems you look to the locals for unlikely solutions.

It's true what they say about messin' with the bull

Jeff, a Halfway, Oregon chap, was our hero for the day who took us in his pick-up (that I had to practically rock climb to get into) over the sketchy passes.

Snowy Pass, Hells Canyon Rec. Area

Jeff!

Besides being a darn good country DJ (I LOVE the Zach Brown Band), Jeff was also a provider of fire arms and a Powerade target.

Check out Pete's bullseye in the Powerade Bottle. Stud.

Thanks to Jeff, we made it through our second day of the tour without even donning chamios, save at breakfast. 

The weather was quite unruly.  On the first day, we dove for shelter from the pelting 40 degree rain in an RV laundry mat where we dried our clothes.

Riding through a rain cloud

Rain

more rain

I have to say, however, I had a number of things working in my favor: I mentally prepared myself to be dumped on, I had the right gear, and I had a riding partner who had a great and snarky attitude.

Pete and me freezing our nethers off

We actually had a lovely time in light of the weather.  It shows that having a positive attitude and a good sense of humor can be priceless. 

Hells Canyon!

Eating lunch at the laundry mat where we dried our soaked duds

Me, Sun, Cues

On the last day, the weather broke.  Of course, Joe showed up to ride the last day with us and cycled on the perfect day.  Well, the first part of the day could have been plucked right out of the Mists of Avalon.

Sweet fog

More fog

fog lifting

One of the most killer roads on our ride:  Medical Springs Highway.  The last day, we savored it and the sun that showed it off.

Despite the ornery fall weather, this tour further tips my favoritism towards Eastern Oregon bike tours.  It is absolutely spectacular out there and the people are my kind of folks: sweet, able to laugh at themselves, and generous.