Top Ten for 2022

This year turned out to be a relief, mostly a relief from the pandemic. It was also rather uneventful.

The year began with the receipt of paperwork making me an Irish citizen. I immediately sent away for a passport which arrived in early May. I don’t really need a second passport but it is my understanding that it’s good for a discount at the Guinness brewery in Baltimore.
January brought a whopper of a snowstorm, the first in many years. The magnificent maple tree next door split near its base and landed an impressive tree chunk inches from Mrs. Rootchopper’s car. A few weeks later, the neighbors had the tree removed. We missed its blazing colors this fall. On the plus side, we now have a sunny kitchen.
We travelled to St. Charles, Missouri to attend my niece Irene’s wedding. After the wedding the bridal party came down with Covid. We were spared. For the next two months I managed to avoid the virus despite travelling among the great unmasked out West. Alas, my luck ran out when I got back home. I came down with Covid and had strange symptoms. My ears were stuffed up for a week. Otherwise, I had a very mild case and, with the help of four Pfizer vaccinations and Paxlovid, I recovered in a few days.
After a two-year hiatus thanks to the pandemic, I launched on another bike tour. This one began in St. Charles, Missouri and ended nearly 3,500 miles later in Portland, Oregon. The first half was solo and included an epic day fighting 50-mile per hour crosswinds in Kansas. In Canon City, Colorado I hooked up with Corey and Mark, whom I met on my 2019 bike tour, for the second half. The highlight of the trip was the final mountain climb up and over McKenzie Pass in Oregon. Definitely one of the top ten rides of my life. I managed to intercept Keith Adams, whom I met on my first 50 States Ride, in Eastern Oregon (or maybe western Idaho, it’s all a blur). Keith was riding from Bend, OR to Cody, WY. A few days later I met up with Rachel Cannon, another 50 States posse alum, and consumed talk, nachos, and beer in Redmond, OR.
When I got home from my bike tour, I found that all my pants fell off whenever I put them on. My first physical in three or four years confirmed that my weight had dropped over 20 pounds on the trip. Thankfully, I have some stretchy belts to keep me from flashing the neighbors.
My physical included some blood work results that were rather upsetting. I started eating more sensibly, avoiding junk food, eating less red meat, and such. I also started eating almonds and Brazil nuts which are supposed to lower cholesterol. My cholesterol fell from the 270s to the 220s in three months. My weight also fell another eight pounds. Dang. In retrospect, having all my slacks altered in the spring was not such a great idea.
For the 14th time, I gathered a posse of friends old and new and rode the 50 States Ride in DC in September. We had a stellar time and I only fell once. (I got a boo boo on my elbow.)
Most of the posse returned for the Cider Ride in November, during which I learned that celery is a bodacious dentrifice. This info will come in handy whenever I need to brush my teeth at the farmer’s market,
Earlier this year I couldn’t walk a half mile without back pain. At the end of the bike tour, I needed to walk around Portland and found that I could walk a mile without pain. Alas, schlepping my baggage through National Airport brought the pain back. After much hemming and hawing, I decided that rather than have surgery, I’ll live with the pain and accept that I am now officially old.
Tickets to Washington Nationals baseball games were dirt cheap. This had something to do with them trading away Juan Soto, their last star player, and others, and ending the year with the worst record in baseball. On the plus side, we attended a minor league game at The Dunk, Dunkin’ Donuts Park in Hartford.
I managed to ride 11,355 miles, my fifth 10,000-mile year in a row.

Bike Tour 2022 – Loose Ends

Some interesting things happened since I returned home. The day after I arrived I couldn’t hear anything and my sinuses were stuffed. I thought it was from sitting close to the engine on three flights. And maybe jet lag was playing a role. After a day of this, I decided to take a Covid test. Positive. I took another. Positive again. Dang. I called my doctor and we did a remote consult. He put me on Paxlovid. Within 36 hours I was back to normal. I coughed a lot but that was part of the process of my sinuses clearing.

Another annoying thing happened. My pants kept falling off. I had to tighten my belt to absurd lengths to keep them on. My beltless bike shorts (they go over my bike tights) were snug when I left home in May. Now I put them on and they’d fall straight to my ankles. To keep them on, I resorted to rolling the waist band,

After I recovered from Covid, The Mule arrived home. (It was packed flawlessly by West End Bikes of Portland.) So there I am in my bike pants trying to unbox and re-assemble The Mule. I had the frame out of the box. Every tube was wrapped in either heavy cardboard or styrofoam tubing. The styrofoam was affixed to the bike using zip ties. I pulled out my trusty Swiss army knife. It was super sharp because I have only used it a couple of times since I bought it in May. As I went to cut a tie, my hand slipped and I put a deep gash into my left thumb.

There was blood everywhere. I tried to continue with the bike but it was pointless. So I put my thumb in my mouth and walked around the house to go inside and bandage it. Except my pants kept falling down. There I am sucking my thumb, bleeding from one hand and holding my pants up with the other. Thankfully my kids and wife weren’t around to laugh their asses off at me.

The thumb is healing slowly, and The Mule is back on the road.

Today I went to my doctor for my first physical in three years. The doctor’s assistant weighed me. 198 pounds. I am below the Mendoza line for the first time in four years (when I came back from the 2018 tour.) This means that, when I came back from Portland two weeks ago, I probably weighed around 195 because I have been eating more and biking less. I must have weighed north of 215 pounds at the start of the tour. No wonder my pants are falling down.

As readers may recall, while riding down the highway along the Lochsa River in Idaho, Mark was given a traffic citation for failing to ride as far to the right as is safe. That’s what Idaho law calls for. A driver had passed Mark on a blind curve and nearly hit an oncoming vehicle,. which happened to be a Sheriff’s car. The car was driven by a chubby cheeked deputy who looked all of 22 years old. The deputy pulled a uey and gave chase. He pulled over the offending driver. The driver explained that he had no choice but to pass Mark because he came on Mark so suddenly. And that Mark was in his way. The deputy let the driver go and gave Mark a ticket. The next day we rode to the county magistrate’s office in Grangeville, the county seat. Mark arranged for a hearing via Zoom to contest the ticket. Today, Mark had his hearing. Barney didn’t appear. The ticket was dismissed. Justice was served.

Bike Tour 2022 – The Mule Abides in Portland

The day began with coffee and granola in the hostel cafe. Afterward Corey packed up all his cares and woes and took off for a nostalgia tour of Portland (he has a daughter who attended Reed College) and then head to the Amtrak station. We confirmed last night that his bike tools will remove his pedals, essential for boxing his bike.

This morning I rode a half mile to West End Bikes and turned over The Mule for shipping. West End shipped The Mule home in 2018 and it arrived intact.

Corey and I shared a room last night with a bike tourist who just did a loop ride in western and central Oregon. He’s now headed north. He wasn’t exactly chatty but that’s okay.

I’m killing time here at the hostel. My flight leaves tomorrow afternoon which should give me plenty of time to chill. (I hate to bring this up but it’s actually kind of cold here.)

As far as bicycling goes, the tour is now officially over. Thanks to everyone who read these blog posts. Your encouragement of my insane little adventure is most appreciated.

In the coming weeks I will convert these blog posts into a proper journal on Cycleblaze.com when I get the time.

I’ll also post a few more entries reflecting on the tour.

Miles today: 0.5 Tour miles: 3,449.5

Bike Tour 2022 – Kelso, Washington to Portland, Oregon

Our hotel was enormous. Its long hallways reminded me of The Shining.

The hotel cannot find enough staff to operate properly. Breakfast was a disappointment. At this stage a couple of bowls of Raisin Bran and some coffee gets the job done.

After a tour of industrial Longview we rode back across the Lewis and Clark Bridge to US 30 in Oregon. The bridge is downright scary. It’s noisy and shaky and has shoulders filled with debris.

We were glad to be off of it except for the fact that US 30 to Portland is nearly as nasty. The shoulders were adequate and the debris was less but the trucks made for a deafening bike ride.

We rode. All business. Get her done. No need for excess hemoglobin because there were no hills to speak of.

After about 50 miles we left the highway to ride the street grid to Union Station. Corey went inside to check out the bicycle-on-train situation. He could have put his bike n the baggie car unboxed but decided to box it for protection anyway. Amtrak will provide the box and tape. He also learned that for a reasonable price he gets to head home tomorrow, a day earlier than planned.

After scoring an Amtrak win we decided to check into the NW Portland Hostel where I stayed in 2018. It’s located a few minutes from the train station, the bike shop I’m going to use to ship my bike home, and lots of hip places for bike tourist celebrities like us.

Note also that we have N95 masks for the event that we have to share our room with a Covid vector.

Tomorrow we’ll prep for our respective journeys home.

At the hostel: Postcards. And Stamps. Very retro.

My bike shoes died a hero. Made it all the way thanks to Gorilla Glue and duct tape

Miles today: 56 Tour miles: 3,449

Bike Tour 2022 – Astoria, Oregon to Kelso, Washington

And you thought the tour was over?

Our night as bridge trolls worked out okay for me. Corey was kept up by the clomping of feet in the room above us.

We began the day with breakfast at Pig and Pancakes, a chain apparently. We ate at one in Cannon Beach. Fortified with pancakes (good), coffee (not bad), and scrambled eggs (meh) we headed east out of Astoria on US 30 headed for Portland.

Traffic was heavy, the shoulder was debris-filled, and the air was filled with mist. The road rolled up and down with the occasional somewhat serious climb. No matter. Our blood is still teeming with hemoglobin.

I began the day with a very sore lower back. The pain abated with every mile, and a couple tablets of Vitamin I.

Corey stopped and pointed out Mt Rainier. After about 30 miles we stopped at a gas station for snackage. A fuel truck driver gabbed with us. He said it wasn’t Rainier. He also told us the next climb would be four miles at six percent grade.

Corey and I agreed that it was a serious climb, made much worse by the incessant traffic and inadequate shoulder. We also agreed that it couldn’t have been four miles.

During a leveling off we saw two snow covered mountains in the distance. I have no idea which two it was. I think the one on the left is Mount Fuji but I could mistaken. I’m any case the one on the right was Mount Vesuvius for sure.

We had a crazy fast descent to the exit for Longview, Washington. Longview is halfway to Portland and has many motels and restaurants. According to Fuel Truck Driver there are many methheads there too.

The ride across the Columbia River was very stressful. Logging trucks go to Longview to drop their loads at the port and a paper mill. The shoulder was littered with chunks of bark. The crossing was not a lot of fun.

We stopped at Walmart where I bought a duffel bag to consolidate my panniers into for my flight home and a t-shirt to wear on the plane. (Laundry opportunities are unlikely between now and Saturday morning.)

Next we went to a bike shop for air for my rear tire and recommendations for motels and lunch. The lunch restaurant one of the bike shop guys recommended was right around the corner.

I had a cup of pig butt stew as a side dish. It was very tasty. I wish I had ordered a huge bowl of it and skipped the chicken caesar wrap.

After lunch we rode across the Cowlitz River to Kelso where we found a hotel for $120. It’s not bad at all. The lobby is rather posh.

Tomorrow it’s back across the pine bark bridge and another 50 miles to Portland, this time without the long climb. We plan to go to Union Station to get some definitive answer about whether Corey had to box his bike up for his train ride home. (In some cities you can just put your bike in the baggage car. Also, if a bike box is needed we’ll have to find out if Amtrak supplies them.)

Miles today: 57 Tour miles: 3,393

Bike Tour 2022 – Nehalem State Park to Astoria

Nehalem State Park was the best campground we stayed at during our trip. We camped in a huge stand of pine trees. The pine needles and sand made for a perfect natural mattress. The bathrooms were clean and the showers refreshing. The windy evening gave way to cool breezes at night. The roar of the ocean off in the distance lulled us to sleep.

We broke camp after breakfast. Oatmeal for Corey and Mark, an apple, a banana, a Clif Bar, and three spoonfuls of PB&J without bread for me.

We climbed back up to 101 by backtracking then started the first of several climbs. None of them broke 1,000 feet but they certainly gave us a workout. The first climb out of Nehalem to Oswald State Park topped out at about 625 feet. Quite a way to start the day. We next descended into a tunnel. We all wore blinkie lights in anticipation of darkness but the tunnel was extremely well lit. No worries about not being seen.

We had light winds for most of the day, a blue sky with puffy clouds, and temperatures in the 60s.

It was yet another day of superb scenery. Ocean views out the wazoo.

The traffic was a bit of a drag but we diverted into Cannon Beach and stopped for proper breakfast after 20 miles or so. After climbing back to 101 we descended into Seaside where we rode along the boardwalk next to the beach.

After Seaside we left 101 for Lewis and Clark Road, the back road into Astoria. The road was windy and hilly, cutting through countryside and away from the ocean. After much exertion we stopped at Fort Clatsop, where we checked out a replica of the fort used by Lewis & Clark during the winter after reaching the Pacific Ocean.

We’ve been bumping into Lewis and Clark for hundreds of miles. Too bad they didn’t have bicycles and paved roads.

After our tour of the fort we rode over the Lewis and Clark River then over Youngs River into Astoria. I was gritting my teeth on the steel deck of the second bridge when the genius driver of a passing pick up yelled at me to “use the sidewalk.” So helpful.

Astoria forms a rounded point at the mouth of the Columbia River. We rode around the point then, mostly, along a bike trail along the riverfront.

Because of pedestrian traffic and sketchy trail design (the trail goes along some trolley tracks) I fell behind Corey and Mark and missed their big finish. Actually there wasn’t a big finish because there is no sign indicating the end of the trail. (The same is true at the eastern end I’m of the TransAmerica Bicycle Trail in Yorktown, Virginia.)

Mark’s wife Tracy was there to greet us with a phone for picture taking and a rental car with a trunk full of drinks and snacks.

While we were talking about our travels, Billy and Greg, whom we had met a few days ago, pulled up to finish their TransAm.

As we were about to leave, three riders appeared, heading south. Really south. They were bound for Ushuaia, the southernmost city in Argentina!

Mark and Tracy went one way and Corey and I another. Corey and I are sharing a room in a Motel 6 underneath the scary bridge across the Columbia River to Washington State. We feel like a couple of trolls.

Tomorrow we head toward Portland, most likely a two-day trip. Corey is taking a train to Chicago on Sunday. I’m flying home on Saturday.

Miles today: 50.5 Tour miles: 3,336

Looking up into a cool tree with a foggy lens

Me, Corey, and Mark at the finish of the TransAm

Greg and his Tour Easy after his first bike tour, across the country!

The view from our hotel window. People bike over that!

Bike Tour 2022 – Kiwanda Beach to Nehalem State Park

After a moment of profound reflection (Dang, that’s a big rock) at Chief Kiwanda Rock we set out on our mission to edge frustratingly closer to the end of the TransAm Bike Trail in Astoria, about 95 miles to our north.

We climbed straight up about 800 feet, the down, then up a few hundred more, then down. Unlike a week ago we are now dealing with hundreds rather than thousands so, except for the steepness, the climbing is no big deal, and we get the bonus of views of the Pacific coast from time to time

Along the way we met two southbound riders who warned us of a nasty 15 percent grade downward in which the road was covered in gravel. They had stout tires and rode up the bloody beast but we decided to divert from the main routes and check out the Three Capes Scenic Route. It was plenty scenic and, of course, hilly AF. We endured the roller coaster for about a third of the loop before Mark pointed out that a landslide had knocked out 1 1/2 miles of the route. It was scheduled for repair by 2030.

That was a tad more time than we were willing to wait so we doubled back, re-climbing most of the hills then turned inland to get back on the main TransAm route.

This wee shortcut involved a monster hill that went straight up. A boy on an e-bike sped by me as I ground my knees to dust. Curse you, you little twerp!

A second climb took us to the main road which we used to bypass the gravel hill of doom and ride straight into Tillamook, a cheesy place if ever there was one. A field just outside of town was filled with enormous black and white cows. I presume that milk from these animals is used to make chocolate chip ice cream. I could be wrong.

After lunch of chili and a taco in a bar in Tillamook, we started north but now that hill with the electronic kid had given me a screaming lower back ache.

Oddly once I was in the bike my back felt fine. Our route now coincided with US 101, the Pacific Coast Highway. I don’t mind hills and I can tolerate traffic but the combination of the two makes for unpleasant riding

After 27 more miles we arrived at Manzanita where all the motels were booked. We decided to camp one last time at a state park with hiker/biker sites. We lucked out again. Our tents are nestled among a stand of pine trees. Soft ground and cool ocean breezes should make for a good night’s sleep.

Tomorrow Astoria!

Miles today: 62 Tour miles: 3,285.5

Bike Tour 2022 – Corvallis to Monmouth

After yesterday’s mega ride we needed a breather. We rode 22 miles up the Willamette Valley, planning to stay in a town park in Independence about two miles off route.

We arrived in Monmouth after a little over 20 miles and began searching for second breakfast. (Predictably the Corvallis Super 8 lobby breakfast was meager. Raisin Bran and coffee.) Along the way we rode under cloudy skies past farms and orchards, and one very large vineyard.

We stopped at a brew pub that served breakfast. The food was pretty good. In truth it’s hard to screw up scrambled eggs and biscuits and gravy. After eating we checked out the park online and saw the reviews were off putting. Vagrants. A scuzzy bathroom. No thanks.

Across the parking lot from the pub was a motel. We found the rate and the room acceptable and checked in.

Tomorrow we head for the coast, then two days to the end of the TransAmerica Trail in Astoria before riding to Portland for transport home.

Miles today: 22. Tour miles: 3,167.

Bike Tour 2022 – McKenzie Bridge to Corvallis

Our tent site in the woods next to the river made for sound sleeping. As we were cooking breakfast (I was “cooking” PB&J sandwiches) we could hear helicopters flying over the forest. We never found out what was going on but I suspect they had something to do with logging operations in the burn zone on this side of the mountain.

We headed west down Hwy 126 descending gradually below 1,000 feet of elevation. For me this was my first time in such thick air in over seven weeks.

We kept a brisk pace with Corey joking that we were going to ride a century (100 miles) today.

Our ride was hardly peaceful with all the logging and dump trucks zooming past.

We stopped for second breakfast at a cafe in Vida. The food was quite tasty. About 15 miles later we finally got off 126 and away from the infernal trucks.

Back roads took us around Eugene to the north. We stopped for lunch in the town of Coberg. We jointly inhaled a large pizza then Corey and Mark tried to find a place for us to sleep. Everything nearby was booked so they looked further afield,

We eventually settled on a Super 8 in Corvallis, over 30 miles on route to the north. Corey led the way using his GPS which disagreed with my paper map and Mark’s GPS.

We kept pedaling and getting more tired and grumpy with each passing mile. Corey’s route took us on low traffic farm roads through Hazelnut orchards, and fields of hay and clover.

At one point we saw hay devils, dust devils made out of dried, cut hay.

We rode the grid of roads until we popped out onto busy Peoria Road, the direct route from Coberg to Corvallis. About 12 miles later we arrived at our motel exhausted.

We went out to dinner at a brew pub down the street. The food and beer were very good. To be honest, we’d have eaten anything after riding 95.5 miles.

A note about Super 8 motels. I’ve stayed at many of these motels over then years on my bike tours. I could count on them being a reasonably priced, consistently well run motel. Not anymore. The Super 8 in Florence CO was overpriced and offered coffee and granola bars for “continental breakfast”. The Super 8 in Corvallis had an empty pool for starters. Our room is missing a light bulb from a ceiling fixture and has a dysfunctional bathroom faucet. On top of that our room had not been properly cleaned. All for the low, low price of $280 per night.

Tomorrow we plan on an easy, short ride to Independence.

Miles today: 95.5 Tour miles: 3,145

Bike Tour 2022 – Redmond to McKenzie Bridge via McKenzie Pass (July 14)

Last night in the hotel Corey noticed that the middle of the tread on my rear tire was worn out. We all knew that this would compromise its protection against flats. Little did we know….

We headed out for our big day, our last mountain pass. We rode Hwy 126 west toward Sisters. About three miles into our journey I ran over a remnant from a retread truck tire, something we’d seen scores of times on our trip. Weeks ago I happened to notice a tiny wire from a retread sticking out of the middle of the tread on my front tire. I pulled the wire out. The thick tread had done its job and prevented a puncture. This time, with the worn tread on my rear tire, I wasn’t so lucky. I hit the remnant hard, it got hung up in my rear fender, and the rest was misery.

It was my first flat on the road in over 12,000 miles of touring. (Not counting the one at the start of my trip was caused by an old patch that failed.) The tires I use are Schwalbe Marathon Plus tires. You have to try mighty hard to get a flat with these tires and, alas, I succeeded.

In the process of changing the tire I managed to put a knot in my chain. Mark used a tool to break the chain and we set both the tire and the chain right.

How many 60-something bike tourists does it take to change a flat tire.

We rode to Sisters. I stopped at a bike shop where I bought a a new tire and tube. This tire was a Schwalbe Marathon which is not as bullet proof as the Plus version but it has lower rolling resistance.

On the road to Sisters, the famous Three Sisters mountain peaks provide a stunning scene

With tire replaced, we set off on our big climb to McKenzie Pass. The road was restricted to vehicles no longer than 35 feet. This meant all the commercial traffic was routed to nearby Santiam Pass. The road to McKenzie was smooth and nearly car-free.

The road started relatively flat through a ponderosa pine forest. Many of the trunks bore signs of burns.

It was nearly a bike path through a tunnel of pine trees

The forest transitioned to a burn zone as we started the climb in earnest. The higher we went the more the scant undergrowth was replaced by black volcanic rock. Soon the rocks dominated the landscape with a burned out tree trunk now and then. The last volcanic activity occurred over 7,000 years ago. The burnt trees have the illusion that lava flowed here in recent years.

Up we climbed, a never ending crawl. We didn’t care. This was the last one. We didn’t mind that the top was at 5,325 feet. By this point we didn’t notice the thinning air. We are gods of hemoglobin.

We came to a turn out called Windy Point. We looked out over a moonscape with snow covered peaks, including Mounts Washington, Jefferson and Hood in the distance. What a creepy site. The black boulders were once lava. Hmm… This place could blow at any minute!!!!!!

The next mile or so was level to gently rising. We could feel the cool breeze that foretold of the approaching summit. I stopped when the summit observation tower, built using these same volcanic boulders, was in view.

After playing at the summit for nearly an hour we began our descent. Or so we thought. After a brief downslope the road went up again. Whaaa? Another downslope was followed by another short climb. The mountain was taunting us. The next downslope was the real thing. Over 20 miles of twisty descending. Switchbacks and other curves with advised speed between 15 and 35 mph. Man, was I glad I replaced that tire.

The road was quite narrow near the summit, perhaps only a lane and a half wide. As I came around one curve at speed I was surprised by a rock plow, a truck with a snow plow blade moving errant rocks off the roadway.

Signs announced every 1,000 feet of vertical progress. 5,000 feet. Yahooo! 4,000 feet. Wheee! 3,000 feet. Zoom!

As we descended the landscape changed from lava field to burn zone to dense coniferous forest. On this side of the mountain, fir trees dominated with thick undergrowth. You could smell the green. The air felt thick.

After 2,000 feet we rejoined the Santiam Pass traffic. Logging trucks and double bottom dump trucks (a dump truck pulling a second engineless dump truck) zoomed by.

We stopped in the town of McKenzie Bridge for lunch. After eating we asked about renting a cabin next door. The owner said she was booked and that we’d have trouble finding any lodging because the World Track and Field Championships were being held in Eugene, 50 miles down the road.

We ended up in a US Forest Service campground. Our site was about 100 feet from the McKenzie River.

We bathed in the river and rinsed out our biking clothes. After walking back to town for dinner we hit the hay in our tents, lulled to sleep by the rushing water of the river.

Miles today: 66 Tour Miles: 3,049.5

	Brittany on Bike Tour 2023 – Day 8:…
	Brittany on Bike Tour 2023 – Day 7:…
	Brittany on Bike Tour 2023 – Day 6:…
	twotiredtales on Bike Tour 2023 – Day 8:…
	Joan on Bike Tour 2023 – Day 7:…