August 13, 2015
Day 43: Prineville to Mitchell; Water is Precious
(The elevation profile found at the beginning of each day's story is a good resource to help you understand my day.)
Notes:
1.) You can leave a message for me by clicking on the comment icon towards the bottom of the page (you must be registered with the site, but it's quick and easy to do so). I enjoy getting messages from readers.
2.) Climbing Today: 2,523 ft -- Total So Far; 101,715 ft
3.) If you haven’t done so already, you should read the section in the Intermission titled “Second Half, Here I Come!: Considerations, Challenges, and Concerns,” so as to understand the challenges I may face. Some of these, like the smoke from forest fires, are already proving to be problematic.
4.) Average Speed While Biking Today: 11.0 mph
5.) Mechanical Issues Today: 1 flat tire!
6.) Miles Traveled To Date On This Half of the Journey: 354
7.) Miles Remaining to Canon City: about 1646
8.) Found Money Today: $.03
There's a bike hostel in Mitchell, and I had called last night to inquire about availability. It's a 3-bunk-bed arrangement, so it sleeps 6, and 3 cyclists had already made reservations for today. Frankly, the gal who answered the phone really didn't seem too keen on the hostel, saying something like "it was always the least desirable option." The hostel is ran by the Oregon Hotel folks, so I inquired about a room, and there was one I could get with a shared bath arrangement. However, they don't allow bikes in the hotel, and she offered no safe way to store my bike, so I ended up booking a room at the only other option in town, the Skyhook Motel.
I didn't sleep well last night after yesterday's Gonzo ride. What's a Gonzo ride? Well, it's any ride that's crazy stupid, like yesterday's 91 mile day in 93 degree heat after climbing 4100 feet up McKenzie Pass on a 100 pound touring bike. I'm getting too old to attempt such things, but most of today's youngsters won't, so somebody has to do it! While I always seem to get away with it, I don't get away scot-free, and there's a price to be paid for such heroics. I consumed well in excess of 200 ounces of clear water yesterday, and I think my electrolytes were out of balance; that loss of balance manifested itself when I got up during the night for a bathroom trip and stumbled into the wall bumping my head. Perhaps it was an electrolyte imbalance, perhaps it was fatigued muscles, or likely it was a combination of both. Whatever the cause, it startled me into reality (funny what a knock on the head will do for you), and I determined to eat some salty foods and/or consume Gatorade during my rides in this dry heat.
I purposely slept late this morn (6:00 am) so I could take advantage of the Econolodge's continental breakfast, and I had 2 toasted bagels with creamed cheese and jelly to start my day off. That plus 3 glasses of orange juice (for the potassium) got me rolling, although I wasn't quite feeling 100% yet. The early morning sun revealed the haze that was the result of the smoke cloud overtaking me last night.
Although I didn't know it at the time, the smoke was going to be with me for some time to come. What is it with Oregonians and these happy faces? This is the third one I have seen so far.
Ochoco Lake was peaceful as I cycled past, with just one fishing boat I could spot towards the far shore.
I needed to be on a conference call, so I found a shady spot beside the road and sat down for a break. I couldn't find a way to mute the silly business Blackberry, and someone on the call had to tell me how to do it. Sigh - technology seems to pick on us old folks more so than the youngsters for some reason. Finishing the call I cycled off, but didn't get far until I noticed the front wheel pulling to the left, signaling a flat tire! Yikes, I was hoping to avoid this.
A flat tire meant I had to take off the panniers and the handlebar bag and the seat toolkit bag and the bike computer and the main tanks and the auxiliary tank and turn the bike upside down and remove the wheel and remove the inner tube and locate the leak in the inner tube and locate the corresponding point in the tire and try to find whatever it was that penetrated the tire and remove it and then put the tire back on and put on a new inner tube and re-inflate the tire and then put the wheel back on the bike and then; put everything back on that I took off before. It takes a long time to do it all and be careful to make sure you find the offending object in the tire. I found a small thorn that had caused the puncture; I believe these things are called "goat-heads" and they are tiny but hard little shards of wood. I started to put the tire back on the wheel and then thought, "What if there are more I didn't locate?" Sure enough, a careful inspection led to me finding one more; good thing I hadn't just put the tire back on, I would have had another flat shortly after! These thorns are so small I can't see them, I have to feel with my bare hands along the inner surface of the tire to find them. Fortunately I had a shady spot to change the flat. Moving on, I encountered three very pleasant British fellows who were within a few days of completing their transcontinental journey. We had a nice chat and I didn't think to get a picture until they were riding off.
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These three make six British cyclists I have encountered on this journey; three on the first half and now three on the second half. The British appreciate cycle touring. My route today went through the Ochoco National forest.
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And it goes up, and I had to earn the summit.
Before I hit the summit, I stopped at a rest stop area for an off-the-bike break. I was hot and sat down on a stump in the shade. The intense sun was forcing me to hit the juice pretty hard, and the effort required to fix the flat was a significant drain also, so I was a bit concerned about having enough water to make it to Mitchell. There was no water at the rest stop, just latrines. My water had been warmed up to beyond 90 degrees Fahrenheit; one is glad to have water, but drinking hot water is not pleasant. A guy in an RV saw me sitting in the shade and asked if I would like a cold water; "Yes Sir I Would!" I enthusiastically replied. He gave me one of those 16 ounce flimsy plastic bottles you buy, and we chatted a bit and he drove off. I drank half the water and offloaded the rest into the main tanks and was about to head off when another RV pulled up and that driver asked me if I wanted water! He gave me the exact same type and size of water, and I offloaded it into the main tanks and pushed on. I had enough water now; all I had to do was reach the summit and I was going to have a long downhill most of the way into Mitchell. I poke fun at Phat Pholks driving RVs; these guys weren't phat at all, they were just nice folks. One of them was very interested in my adventure and even offered me a sandwich; I didn't want to take his food even though I was hungry, but the kind offer was appreciated. So all right then; Phat Pholks driving RVs can be good people too. I'm adequately humbled, you readers don't have to beat me over the head with my own humility; but you can if you want, because I deserve it.
Pushing on I reached the summit sooner than I had expected.
The road down had trees charred from the last major fire that occurred in 2013 I think.
And here are a couple of views of the road down. It was quite an enjoyable ride.
Zooming down at about 35 mph, I was glad for Harvey's hydraulic disc brakes when I decided to haul it down quickly and chat with two tourists who were laboring uphill
Charlie and Noah left New York City and worked their way west and eventually joined onto the Transamerica Trail. When they finish they were going to head south to San Francisco. What an adventure! I believe they are doing a blog titled something like "Westward Wheels." I met them at a point where they were 4.5 miles from the summit, so they had a lot of work to do to get up the hill. Once on top, they still had something like 30 miles to go to reach Prineville, and there would be no water until then. They were a bit low on water. I had about 40% in the main tanks (the main tanks hold 72 ounces, so I had about 29 ounces), and a full auxiliary (28.5 ounce Gatorade bottle), so I convinced them to take all of the auxiliary tank. I'm sure they were grateful; they have young muscles and will make it, but this heat is ruthless and doesn't care how young or old you are. So I was glad to be able to pass on the kindness of the two RV drivers that had given me water. The remainder of my travel to Mitchell wasn't all downhill and I was going to need the water I had left to get there, but I would make it. And I knew that Charlie and Noah would make it now as well. But I can't say the same for this old fellow.
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I met this gentleman about 3 miles farther down the hill - it's a long downhill run! He and his dog are biking for animal awareness, whatever that means. I have been aware of animals ever since I was a toddler, so I really don't know what "animal awareness" means. I asked him if he had plenty of water and he said he did but I was concerned. I saw a couple of large bottles, but he has considerable effort ahead to get up the hill AND then bike 30 miles to Prineville. I warned him as best as I could, and I suggested he may want to go back down the hill to Mitchell tonight and start really early in the morning, and then we departed. I don't know what became of him, but I'm pretty certain he didn't bike up the hill in the heat and make it to Prineville on his water supplies; and since we're practicing animal awareness, that little dog also has to drink.
Pushing on, the road flattened out and then I had a few short steep uphills. I drank my last swallow of hot water as I rolled into Mitchell and located the Sky Hook Motel.
Water is precious out here in this dry climate. Water is the gift of life itself, and is the first of my three survival needs in this order; water, food, and shelter. May you always have water, and may you appreciate the fact that you do. I do...
Today's ride: 49 miles (79 km)
Total: 2,651 miles (4,266 km)
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