Another couple weeks down and around 455 miles rolled (in total) and still in Oregon! I want to remind folks that Oregon is our country’s 10th largest state and we are heavy and slow – we literally have one whole front pannier bag devoted to condiments, just condiments, my friends. The kids are faring better than I am at this point – Augustine has been crushing the miles and the mountains with smiles (with only minor deviations). Ophelia is drawn by carriage in the heat, and aside from 4 year old trips and bruises and the 30 odd bug bites that occasionally drive her off an emotional cliff, she is also a super human. Ance, the Amazonian, continues to outperform the lot of us in brains, energy, stamina, and throw some other awesome things in there. I, on the other hand, well, I am looking for shade, a beer, and some quiet hours to read in peace. Despite my laziness and negative-nancy episodes, the family still says they love me, so we get along.
Shortly after Corvallis, we ranged into uncharted territory for Ance and I – into and over some of the cascades into Eastern Oregon. I feel sunburnt down to my bones at this point. The landscape is a drastic sort of epic – mountain buttes with their tips struck off, near barren hills and mountain sides, junipers clinging onto the hot dirt, and ponderosas standing patient in the heat. The people we’ve met and the places we’ve stayed, an oasis. Often you will be told through the news, television or radio, of stories that draw a picture of a violent and totally messed up hopeless world. The other bit that is missing are people that open their communities and hearts to you on a regular basis. So, I will say it, Oregon, and likely the planet, is full of really awesome and good people.
There, I said it. Happy travels.
— LatvianAlaskan Family
July 29th – Corvallis to Harrisburg, Oregon
27 mile day. Augustine did spectacular. Had a little bon voyage ceremony and picture taking with Clive. I’d seen another side of him the last two days – not only the crotchety British professor but also a warm old man welcoming us to his home.
98 degree day once she really got going. We stopped at Prioria park/boat launch for a few hours in the afternoon, grilled cheese with pepperoni for lunch baby. A group of 4 or so cyclists pulled in at the same time. They were actually just finishing up their trip, having come from the east coast. They will complete their trip in just 3 months, which means they were traveling 60 to 70 miles a day, my butt hurts just thinking about it.
We had a little mishap with water. Stopped in at Country Bakery, where a stern motherly mennonite stood on her deck like stone. Perfectly fitted with a flower bonnet and full length cotton patterned dress. When asked if we could fill our waters and buy some cold drinks on display, she responded “there is a place over there, but I don’t want you to get it all muddy. So, you better just give them [our water bottles] to me.”
Despite the chilly reception, she obliged by filling our water bottles and providing a bin of ice. A life saver. We continued on and rolled into Harrisburg greeted by a Christian radio discount store where Ance got thoroughly excited by the deals. No campsites allowing tents in the vicinity and while scoping out for a place to “disperse” camp we met Mary outside her yellow home, given way to the passing of time like a lichen rock undisturbed for a few generations.
Mary was full of God says and Amens. She brought us into her backyard and had dinner with us with our camp kitchen. Mary worked in retail, and cared for her father in his end. One of the sweetest women we’ve ever met.
July 30th – Harrisburg to Eugene Kamping World, Oregon
Short day after the heat blaster slog yesterday to discount grocery. Mary got all choked up while we were leaving, gave us a copy of the Copper Scroll with praise from none other than Rush Limbaugh. Humidity up a bit today, so even with an easy flat route, sweat pours down my brow like a warm salty creek. We had intended to say in Armitage park, but with 4 hiker/bikers spots, a couple of hundred empty picnic tables, and it being saturday – there was no room for us.
So we lounged on the river beach all day and retreated to Eugene Kamping world nearby. Ended up being a wild kid party owing to Kat and her wonderful children camping just next door. Ophelia made a fast friend in 6 year old Zayva. Peas in a pod and likely criminals in the end.
July 31st – Kamping World to Deerhorn County Park
26 mile day. We’ve officially escaped all our old stomping grounds from the last cycling trip. Having exited the Willamette valley, we are greeted by the heavy cool shadows of hills and green trees. The hills and scenery is a nice change from the farming flats – often baking your brains out by noon. We spent the day out of the most intense heat hiding out at Hendricks County park, just west of Walterville. Finished up the day with a 7 mile cake cycle into Deerhorn County park. Not technically legal, so we rolled the bikes back on a little path and tucked ourselves in a little green nook along the Mckenzie River. Unlike the mild and calm Willamette river, this time of year, Mckenzie slaps you around a bit with fast water and brain freezes.
August 1st – Deerhorn to Finn Rock Landing
20 mile day. We entered into what feels like devastation today. Entire mountain sides, and homes along with them, scorched and burnt from the 2020 Holiday Farm fire. The whole ride felt like riding through a wasteland cut through by the clear blue knife of the Mckenzie. Still, life seems to bustle on despite it all. RVs, trucks, and cars zooming east to west. White picket real estate signs are plunged into the ashen earth, selling homes that were. No trespassing signs posted every 30 feet or so, affixed to and quartering off plots of charcoal. It all seems so surreal and final. We found a little piece in the mist of all this to pull off out of the sun and decided to camp right on the beach of the McKenzie. We fried the last bit of our crumbling corn tortillas to make chips in the night under the burning stars.
August 2nd – Finn Rock Landing to Limberlost Campground
18 mile day. Made it out of the fire zone at Rainbow, Oregon. Fitting name. Stopped at the grocery store there and had our first restaurant meal in just over a week. Hamburger and fries for Ophelia and BLT and fries for Augustine, Ance and I split some burger with fresh jalapenos on it. It’s amazing how satisfying this kind of terrible food is. We rolly polly’ed our way after lunch into Paradise campground where we took our last dip into the frigid currents of the McKenzie river. Spent the rest of the afternoon playing games and reading books to weather out the heat until 6PM. We’ve now hit the legitimate uphills to start ascending Mackenzie pass and ultimately the Cascades. It is slow going, but now that we’ve turned off onto the Mckinzie scenic route, it is much quieter and nestled in the shade of trees.
August 3rd – Limberlost campground to Alder Springs Campground
About 10 miles uphill. Continued the Mckenzie pass ascent we started yesterday. At a 3 to 4 MPH breakneck speed, we set our mileage count expectation low for the day. Probably gained some 1700 ft of elevation, blazing past 2k and 3k during the afternoon. Each mile marker felt like winning an emmy. Rolled into Alder springs a bit beat. However, we needed some water, so we decided in a little hike to nearby Linton lake. As it happened, this decision on my part, would turn out to be a Kvasnikoff family team building exercise.
The 1.9 miles to the lake, while not extremely difficult, took some time, and getting down to the actual lake was a bit tricky. Where we did get access to the lake was essentially a bog where we got swarmed by hundreds of white sock mosquitos. We scrambled into emergency mode, which at this junction was – get into the water, immediately. While the girls treaded water in the moat of despair to keep from being bitten, I filtered 4 liters of water from the hell hole. Each pump a new bite. Water filtered, I packed up all the girls’ clothes and things into a backpack, and they proceeded, all of them either completely or mostly naked, to exit the bog and run for their lives to the cover of the evergreen trees up the hill. All told, the 4 mile hike resulted in a hundred or so bites between us, 4 liters of filtered bog water, and PTSD.
August 4th / 5th – Alder Springs Campground to Sisters, Oregon
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All throughout the day, we were being passed by cyclists wearing the same bright green cycling jerseys. We were greeted by this crew at the top of the pass. They are the Bay to Brooklyn crew of active and retired firefighters and military veterans doing the 20th commemorative ride from the bay area to Brooklyn in memory of 9/11. We got to take a picture with them and the girls got commemorative coins.
After the moderately brutal 11 miles to the summit pass, we sailed downhill for 16 miles into Sisters, Oregon. A little town that has a western style facade that reminds me a little of Skagway, Alaska. It seems to be a bit more of a set for tourists to mill through than an actual place people really live. Nevertheless, a pretty little town. We are planning on staying an extra day for rest and Ance’s birthday.
August 6th – Sisters to Smith Rock, Oregon
29 miles. Easy first 15 miles. Rolled into Terrabonne for afternoon siesta, Its essentially a pullover top for climbers heading to Smith Rock – so it’s expensive and there really isn’t anything here. After napping and eating, took the last 3.3 miles to Smith Rock. What to say? Epic rock formations and faces. Climbers throughout the canyon climbing what, to me, look like insane pitches. Two climbers walking a wire between two jutty pieces of rock. Our girls met some instant friends from Portland – they really don’t want to leave tomorrow. Evening came with the skyline cut jaggedly with rock. Cool breeze the whole night through.
August 7th – Smith Rock to Ochoco Lake Park
26 miles. Easy breezy beautiful 19 miles into Prineville with only slight ups and downs all the way. Pulled into the local 7/11 – kids are wild about it. $1 dollar dogs and peach and pineapple slushies – oh, to be American. Spent the afternoon in city park with a kids’ water fountain area. Ophelia ran herself ragged until 5:30 PM. Ance and I read and lounged, and worked in some time to shoot around town for supplies – since this will be the last of larger towns for a couple of day stretch.
Took up the evening with a 7 mile stint out to Ochoco Lake park. Even though I’ve never been here, the low water of the lake seems startling – a dirty glass tipped on it side, a shallow halfpipe of water dithering on the lip. We ate road nachos and played dice until the mikey way ran like a river in the sky. I slept with my eyes shut so hard, I squeezed boogers out of my brain.
August 8th – Ochoco Lake Park to Ochoco Divide Campground, Oregon
24 miles. Steady assent up to Ochoco pass at 4,722 feet. Unlike the Mckenzie crossing, the uphill seemed much more gradual and less intense. That being said, Ance had the trailer for the whole incline, so what do I know. Ance says everything is easy. Stopped in at a campground on Federal land just off the road (little hay creek) at around 16 mils in. We made leaf and flower boats, chased around tadpoles, and Ance caught a crayfish with a camping cup.
At a certain point during the afternoon, something that’s been building for awhile, the girls were bickering with each other and being generally and particularly nasty to each other. They were put in timeout on opposite sides of the large shaded area we were inhabiting under the panerosas – with no toys or books (Ophelia later added, no water either). Before departing for the last 7 miles of the day, the Kvasnikoffs all made a commitment to be nicer to each other. Ance powered us up to the Ochoco pass campground. The night was cold, we actually put on pants and puffy jackets – first time wearing pants in three weeks. We made fancy raman and popcorn and played a card game called “pigasus”, which I thoroughly lost. Fell asleep with cold faces and warm feet.
August 9th / 10th – Ochoco Divide to Mitchell and Painted Hills
Short 16 miles. 12 miles downhill, 3 or 4 miles of incline just before town. Unlike the Sisters of the world, who build up freshly paint facades of a country western town – the main drag peppered with patrician shops stuffed with expensive trinkets – Mitchell is the real deal desert outpost. The wheeler County Trading Co., is stuffed with pantry goods, beer, painting supplies, toiletries, camping gear, hardware, guns and ammo, animal feed, lumber, and slushies. Barcode scanners are too pretentious. Reminds me of home. We’ve decided to take a rest / easy day and head off route a bit to the painted hills.
From Mitchell to the painted hills it’s about 9 miles, all downhill. I am guessing it is about a 1000 ft drop. Google maps indicates its mostly flat in both directions, I can assure you, it is not. How to describe the painted hills? The striations of tan, red, and black indeed look painted. Unlike art in your home or a murals on buildings, the scale of the painted hills humbles you. The passing of time over an epoc, the rise and fall of lakes and jungles and high desert forts all amount to dry wispy colored clay hills. Millions of years of life and death and water long gone, told in layers of quiet hills of pigment. Augustine said it made her sad. When asked by her mother why, she commented on the forests and the water what used to be here. Ance, being forever bright and perceptive, responded something to the effect that all things change and what is before us now is also beautiful.
She is right of course, but like my daughter, I am no Ed Abby. I cannot spot or feel the joy of life in a landscape devoid of trees and bushes or shrubs and water I can’t marvel at the life that does cling onto the margins of existence. The painted hills are a nature wonder of epic proportions, but for me, a memorial or tombstone for life that was – like remembering your ancestors life only through rusty, broken and unusable tools. It is sad in a way, and I don’t know how to make the glass half full.
August 11th – Mitchell to USFS 12
13 miles. 7 miles of brutal uphill on a heat advisory day. We were also carrying an extra two gallons of water, so there was that. I set out with unrealistic expectations to make it to Dayville, some 39 miles away, so I became unreasonable and irritable when it became clear we were on the verge of pulling out at around 13 miles. Little gem for the fathers and husbands out there – getting all bent out of shape and pissed off doesn’t make you popular with your wife or kids, especially on 100 degree days, best to take a deep breath and make some lemonade.
We pulled off onto USFS 12 road and made for the peace of the trees in the distance. Spent all day following the shade and reading. Went to bed early to wake early to beat the heat.
August 12th & 13th – USFS 12 to Dayville and Blue Basin
26 miles. 20 miles of mostly downhill. Once you get off the table mountain area, the road and views are spectacular, particularly through picture gorge. Rolled into Dayville midday, stopped at the store for something cold and then pulled into the Dayville bike hostel at the local community church. Apparently, the Dayville community church has been hosting cyclists since the 1970s and we met some of the very best people on earth. Rose showed us around and provided a little history of their little cyclist church hostel. Shortly afterward, Skip and Cindy stopped by to greet us. They’ve lived in the area for about 40 years and Skip is the local pastor.
In short order, Skip asked us if we wanted to go swimming. On 100+ degree days this is an offer you cannot refuse. We piled into Skip’s truck, with Cindy and their dog Lexie, and drove 6 miles out the South Fork road to a swimming spot called the Ash Hole. It was wonderful.
We opted to stay for an extra day, drop the bags and go for a ride to the Blue Basin and stop in at one of the John Day Fossil bed information centers. The whole area is a marvel of rock and clay. Blue basin feels like an unearthly place cast in turquoise. After our day trip, Skip and Cindy offered up their truck for us to use to head off to the swimming hole again. After cooling off we went for a treat at the local Dayville Cafe. Kids meal for 6 bucks and it comes with ice cream? Sold.
