The Neverending Journey: OREGON

WE RIDE AT FIRST LIGHT

Well, not exactly. We probably adopted more of the Steve Coogan approach to our adventure.

As prepared as I felt leading up to this trip, the start of our journey was not exacted with the precision that I am used to. There are several reasons for this, most of which I won't bore you with, but the most important one is this: this shit is hard! There's a fine balance between weight, luxury, efficiency, and necessity and it's one we are constantly refining. Packing everything that we need to essentially live off of for the next two months is a daunting task, and making it fit onto the back of a bicycle is even harder.

the most amount of upper-body exercise we'll be getting for months

After a week on the road we've pretty much got it down to the essentials (or what we've learned to live with), but still seem to have trouble getting it together in the morning. Part of this is due to the fact that we finish our rides dead tired, rip open our bags to get what we need, and clean up the disaster FEMA-style the following morning. Another large part is that we don't want to rush. This is our time and we get to spend it how we please. That said, some of this time could probably be better spent elsewhere. Breakfast, for example, is something we take very seriously, and we usually leave ourselves a half hour or so to digest. Eating right when we get up would give us time to digest, however, while we pack up our stuff. It's little refinements like this that will allow us to maximize our efficiency without spending too much time figuring out how to maximize efficiency (that's what jobs are for).

ZIN AND THE ART OF BICYCLE MAINTENANCE

Like most major endeavors in life, this trip is about doing the best you can with the resources you have. We could have done this ride supported, or carried front bags, or spent thousands of dollars in reducing effort on the road. Self-sufficiency is something we pride ourselves on, however, so we pinpointed some of the major items and figured we'd leave the overspending to those who get more enjoyment out of it. The top three transportation concerns are: bicycle, seat/saddle, and tires. For the bike we went with a Surly Long Haul Trucker, a solid name and good value. The saddle was Brooks, top of the line, but it's leather so anyone who's broken in a new pair of leather shoes can quite literally feel our pain. The tires I opted for were GatorSkin Ultra Puncture proof, a good choice but poor execution. Anyone following the Track My Tour knows about our tire travails. Mid-ride in 90 degree heat the third flat tire of the day causes me to get more than a little frustrated and angry, as evidenced by the pic Bradley snapped of me below.

It wasn't until my front tube popped in Burns that we realized I was given bad information. I was told to buy 23mm tires when in actuality I should have purchased 35mm. 1/3rd less surface area to absorb rocks and various other mario-cart type obstacles made for a rough ride in the most literal of senses. Finding this out was actually a bit of a relief as we thought we were going crazy with so many flats. We killed a day in Burns, OR (which I would never recommend), drove back to Bend (which I'd highly recommend), and had the bike shop set us up with the most durable of tires. We lost a day and a few hundred dollars, but have probably already saved a ton of time and increased enjoyment. I'll probably end up saving money in the end as alcohol has proven the best way for me to cope with mechanical issues (as it is with all of life's problems, right?). We've also enacted a rule that if you pop a flat, you have to take a shot that evening. This should serve as a good deterrent since neither of us are currently in a fraternity.

Cure for the common flat

OREGON TRAIL

For those of you not of my generation, I'm terribly sorry you did not get a chance to experience one of the best video games ever. Perhaps you could find a 1985 macintosh and a floppy disk to re-live it, though odds are you'll have better luck finding a time machine and traveling back. I remember playing this game in school, though I can't quite remember what lesson it was supposed to teach us, other than that life back then was really damn hard. Nonetheless, the nearly universally known jokes that it has provided well into my adulthood have proven priceless. Not really sure if I can give context, or even if context would do any good, but somehow a few "fording river" and "dying of dysentery" jokes seem to come across my path each year.

Fortunately for us, life hasn't been so hard. Though in some parts of Oregon it seems like not much has changed since the days of Lewis and Clark. Western Oregon is absolutely amazing. I actually drove up the week before our launch: 24 hours of driving for 48 hours of play time. Totally worth it. Hell, I've drive up again just to drive around. The first few days took us through Eugene, Willamette National Forest, and Bend. The roads were great, people were friendly, weather was perfect for riding, and it seemed like anything we needed fell into our lap. As we inched closer to eastern Oregon, however, this magic began to fade (except the people, who have remained friendly throughout). Everyone we asked seemed to have little idea what was past Bend, but we figured more people would know as we got closer. We figured wrong. East of Bend are the Oregon Badlands, 260 miles of desert with little to nothing in the way of services and scenery. Fortunately there was usually a restaurant or gas station every 40/50 miles or so (never both) so we made it through, and even made the best of it.