Day 3: Sisters to McKenzie River Wild Camp

July 14, 2017

Beautiful Riding and Sketchy Advice

We got up at some ungodly hour and packed our stuff for the 6:30 departure. We were really happy that our new friends asked us to join them so we made sure that we were up and ready to leave when they were. While we ate our gruel and drank coffee a guy from another campsite came over and started rambling about the 3 homeless guys who were sleeping at the edge of the park; "They can afford beer but not a house", and then he fired off questions in rapid succession without waiting for responses: "Hey why are so many cyclists fat?", and "Shouldn't you guys have bigger calves?" and other similar ramblings. He got bored pretty fast and went back to his campsite. I'm sure everyone there missed him a lot.

We mounted up and headed out through downtown Sisters before most people were out on the road. A half-mile or so out of town we got onto 242, a/k/a McKenzie Highway and began the climb. It was a cool, sunny perfect morning.

6:00 am- Jim looks at the route on his fancy GPS

We stopped to peel off layers as highway 242 began climbing

It was a beautiful morning to ride. The scenery in central Oregon never disappoints us.

Holly from Yorkshire, England looking at Mt. Washington across the lava flows at Windy Point.

Keith, some RV tourists and Jen at Windy Point

The Grumbys at McKenzie Pass. The Climb from Sisters was about 2100 feet in 15 miles.

The gang at Dee Wright Observatory. It looks like the moon.

Jim led the way down the west side. It was a fast, stunningly beautiful ride.

We stopped at Alder Springs campground to get water, but it is a dry campground. While considering whether to go to Linton Lake for water (a mile and a half or so),we ran into a couple of hikers on the Linton Lake trail across the street who saw us and our fully loaded touring bikes, panniers and all. And they told us definitively that we could ride to the lake on the trail. So we did. For about 12 feet. Then we discovered that perhaps those two hikers were either insane, clueless or just wanted to screw with a couple of bikers like us. Because the trail was not appropriate for bikes. So we locked them to a tree and hiked to the lake. There it was, 80 steep feet below us. So I scrambled down, filled the dromedary up and climbed back up. Ridiculous! The lake was beautiful and I could see Linton Falls in the distance, but the water was murky and full of chunks.

On the way back to the road, pushing our fully loaded touring bikes along the rocky, narrow trail, we encountered a nice couple who told us with great enthusiasm that we should ride on the McKenzie River trail which was just a few miles west. So we decided that's what we would do.

We hiked in a mile or so with our bikes (bad advice), then left them behind to search for water

Linton Lake is beautiful, but access was tough and the water was extra crunchy.

After the Linton Lake Death March we got back on the road towards McKenzie Bridge, but, at the recommendation of the couple I mentioned above, followed the signs and got on the McKenzie River trail. The first few hundred yards were great, but then we ran into a loooong switchback leading down to a bridge over Lost Creek. So we walked the bikes down that, muttering to ourselves. Well, Mrs. G was probably muttering. I was expressing myself in a profane manner.

We crossed the bridge and decided to camp right there, whether it was ok or not. We had ridden only 40 miles, mostly downhill, but hiked about 4 miles pushed heavy bikes through the woods for another mile or two. We were tired.

We set up our tent, ate our delicious lentils, rice and sausage, and got ready to turn in. It was ____ pm and we were tired. A hiker came along, didn't say much, and proceeded to set up camp at an ACTUAL CAMPSITE ABOUT 30 YARDS ABOVE US. Yes, he found a real site with a table that we could have had if i had just walked up the trail a little bit. It would have been much better than our spot right off of the trail.

He then proceeded to sit on his table and gaze down in our direction. For a long time. Then he got up and walkwd down to the bridge and began reading his book while positioned slightly above and about 15 feet from our tent. It was slightly creepy (very creepy for Jen). We kept thinking he would get the hint and go to his site, and even when it got dark, he was still trying to read. Finally he went to his site and turned in. Jen was very nervous about it, even though she was with me, a veteran of countless outdoor manly adventures. Go figure.

Today's ride: 40 miles (64 km)
Total: 92 miles (148 km)

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