I know what some of you are thinking. You’re thinking, why didn’t they finish the route all the way to Astoria to the Pacific Ocean for god sakes!? The answer may disappoint some of you. The truth is, we don’t care about completing every last mile nearly as much as we care about spending time with our friends in Eugene. For us, it’s never been about completing miles, or doing the entire route. Plus, we will be riding down the Pacific Coast soon enough. Riding the TransAm has been simultaneously fun, crazy, terrible, terrifying, awesome, thrilling, hilarious... and hell, let’s just say we’ve certainly had our moments, all of which have been life enriching in their own way. In many ways, the ride hasn’t even sunk in, and i’m sure (keeping finger’s crossed) after I have some time off, I will have more to say on the matter. But it’s time for a rest, and it’s definitely time for the sanity and comfort of waking up in a snug and warm bed in the welcoming home of my friends!
But, back to McKenzie Pass. We started off good and early this morning, because last night while partaking in a few local brews at the bar, we were constantly warned of bad weather heading our way. We had a long ride and we needed to get a jump on it, so we took off early. The pastor at the Episcopal church was nice enough (read: concerned for our safety) to print off a weather report and leave it for us in the morning. So, at least we knew beforehand what we were getting ourselves into. The weather report was rather gloomy, and might as well have read: stay the hell at home unless you are batshit crazy. Nevertheless, Brooke and I batshit crazy as ever, pedaled out of Sisters, Oregon feeling great. There was a slight drizzle, but the lovely scent of rain and cedars hung in the foggy air making me feel thankful for the chance to ride through this stretch of forest, no matter what the weather forecast predicted.
It was chilly and wet, but beautiful right from the start. Being sandwiched between towering cedars, and lush ferns and feeling the mist on your face is totally worth the slight discomfort of being damp. As I was saying, I was feeling grateful for all kinds of things when I woke up this morning, and the most obvious being that we were scheduled to arrive at our friends’ place in Eugene late that afternoon. We had about 90 miles to go in what promised to be cold and wet riding conditions, and I couldn’t have cared less knowing that at the end of the day good friends, good beer, and one very smiley 4 month old baby boy awaited me.
We were about 8 miles into our ride when the road started creeping gradually upward. It was nice to ease into it, taking some time to focus on getting a rhythm. It was raining, and as we climbed it rained more. As no surprise, it also got much colder the further we went up. We were working hard though, which kept us toasty except for our hands and feet. The climb is full of switchbacks, so you really can’t see far enough ahead to know what steep pitch is right around the corner. But, wow, it’s such a amazing scenery, and when you are crawling along at 4 MPH, you really get a good look at things. We climbed for about an hour, curving with the road through the gigantic cedars and hugging the shoulder of the narrow road, which sometimes was cut so close to the rock that my shoulders or panniers would bounce off it. When we reached the top of the pass, it was raining hard, and there was nothing to be seen except age old hard black lava rocks in every direction. The combination of the rain, the black jagged rocks, and the grey lifeless sky may have been too much to take, but thankfully the seniors livened it up a bit for us!
On the way down, we immediately started winding through roads cut through the spiky and ragged lava rock. I’ve never seen anything like it, and it was pretty cool. It wasn’t long until the hill really got going and the grade steepened rather quickly. As you probably know if you’ve been following along, Brooke hates steep descents. Her fear was amplified by ten thousand today when she faced not only a steep decent, but a steep decent full of sharp switchbacks in the driving rain and visibility blocking fog. In short, this was Brooke’s worst nightmare. Meanwhile, it’s kind of the stuff I live for. We’re different in this respect! Brooke and I headed down, slowly, sometimes even stopping to walk. I would get ahead, then stop and wait for Brooke to catch up. Rain was pooling on the tops of my panniers, and dripping from my helmet. The forest was still as beautiful as always, and the trees were covered in a beautiful yellowy moss that glowed in the fog. It took us as long to get down the other side of the pass, as it did to go up it. When we got down, our hands and feet were numb and drenched, but our pricey rain gear worked tremendously, keeping our bodies dry and warm. We pulled into a coffee shop, and I noticed a bus stop on the edge of the parking lot. I didn’t think twice about checking to see if it headed to Eugene. It did, and there was not a moment of hesitation when we each forked over $1.50 to ride the bus in. Getting to my friends’ house and meeting their tiny adorable little baby 3 hours sooner than I would have had I rode in, was worth the insignificant pang of guilt or regret of skipping out on miles!
Melissa
Welp, we’re not in Glacier National Park. And we sure as heck are not biking into Canada right now. Nope, we’re going on to the coast. Why? Because it’s cold. Because, there is another problem with my sleeping bag (surprise, surprise)-- it’s only rated for 30 degrees. And a lot of times at night, it dips down into the 30’s. And then I freeze. So it’s on to the coast . . . and hopefully warmer temperatures.
On one of our last days in Idaho we met Archie at a mom-and-pop diner. Although he’s retired, and actually graduated high school in 1939 (you do the math), he’s the bus boy, because he’s “got nothing else to do.” Back in the day, Archie was sued for 15 million dollars. At the time, he was living in Seattle, working in advertising. The suit came from one single line of copy he wrote -- “Idaho potatoes taste better when grown in Washington.” Now he writes poetry, and today he wrote a bike trip motto for Melissa and me . . . “One part stupidity, one part intelligence and one part determination.” I think it sums it up nicely. 
