June 16, 2019
Day Seven: Fields Station, Oregon to Burns, Oregon
I didn't see anyone at Fields Station when I left this morning around 6:30. It was Sunday, and the store wasn't going to open until 9:00 today
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It was warm already at this early hour. The first mile or two was flat. I saw two jackrabbits, with their long ears, the first I'd seen since Joy and I rode through the desert in New Mexico in 2016. Here's the one thing I know about jackrabbits: Their long ears help them dissipate heat in the hot, dry conditions where they live.
I soon started the first climb of the day. I took it easy, as has been my habit so far on this tour. I suppose I'm old now, and have to make sure I don't "over do it." Sad!
As soon as I got a few hundred feet higher, it cooled down. There was a minor headwind now, which intermittently slowed me down all day long.
A bright yellow cattle guard appeared at the top of the day's first climb. I'd be in "open range" on and off for many miles today.
I began a long, long empty section. There was almost no traffic; I think I counted six cars in the first 40 miles of today's ride. Many of those miles were fenced, with occasional "Roaring Springs Ranch" signs. This ranch must be huge.
At mile 30-something, a truck slowed down and pulled up beside me. It was the Fields Station owners. The woman said "I brought you this", and handed me some of the "Nuun" electrolyte powder she'd told me about yesterday. That was nice of her - I thanked her, and then she and her husband drove off, presumably to Burns, the only town within at least 100 miles big enough to have a supermarket where they could stock up for their little store.
I entered a section with quite a few cattle wandering around on the road. I slowed down and rode past them gingerly. A few had horns.
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It was a short, steep descent to Frenchglen, population 12. There's an historic, tree-shaded hotel with a restaurant, and an old country store there.
It was a really, really appealing place. I walked into the dining room and was greeted by a middle-aged waitress and told to sit anywhere. There were a handful of long communal tables and benches to sit on. I was the only one in the place. Soon, though, a young cowboy walked in. He was short, dark complected, and a little chubby. He seemed a little antsy. He nodded at me, then paced around for half a minute, then removed his hat. The waitress came in and said "Well, you're back. It's been a few weeks." Should I tell her you're here, then? The cowboy nodded, and the waitress called back to the kitchen "There's someone here to see you!"
In a reversal of the usual arrangement, the cook was much younger than the waitress - a blond girl probably in her early twenties, a couple of inches taller than the cowboy. When she came into the dining room, she squealed "You're baaaaack!" I observed the young lovers' reunion with one eye while I pretended to study my menu. (I'd already decided on the grilled cheese sandwich a few minutes before.)
The cook went back to the kitchen and the young cowboy, now seemingly much more at ease, sat down across from me, and began a conversation. He'd been working at another ranch in a different part of the state for three weeks, but had now returned to the gigantic Roaring Springs Ranch, which he informed me was 1.3 million acres. I had some questions for him - such as: Were the open range cattle on the roads ever dangerous? Answer: Occasionally. He had several questions about what I was doing, and appeared to find some aspects of it hard to believe - such as: The feasibility of riding a bicycle 100 miles in a day.
More people came in and ordered food, and some of them wanted to know what I was doing. An older lady had traveled to Lexington, Kentucky (about an hour where I'm from), and had a surprisingly detailed knowledge of the various horse farms there.
The young cook came out again, and asked the cowboy if he was "coming over tonight." "What should I make you?" The cowboy's response of "Oh, whatever" did not please the cook, who told him "You're not helping me!"
I prolonged my visit by ordering cake and ice cream. The hotel had rooms available, and I was sorely tempted to stay the night there. But it was very early in the afternoon, and I'd only ridden 50-something miles. I just couldn't justify it, so I got up to leave (after the cowboy and I exchanged mutual wishes of "Good Luck!"), got back on the bike, and started the 60-mile ride to Burns.
It was a long, hot slog. After about 35 miles, I stopped at The Narrows, a combination cafe/store/RV Park, went in, and drank several glasses of ice water before ordering a banana milkshake. I was the only one in the place, and the two waitresses were chatty and cheerful, probably because their workday was winding down. I briefly considered camping at the RV Park when the pinched-face woman who owned the place came in, made some wildly offensive comments, which I don't feel like writing about here (yet, anyway), and caused me to leave without spending any more of my money there.
The waitresses had warned me about one more hill I had to climb before I got to Burns, and I could see it from at least a few miles away. It was short, steep climb to the top of a butte.
The rest of the ride to Burns was flat. It was approaching early dusk now, and the bugs came and coated my arms and legs. Ugh.
Burns was a disappointment - rundown and unkempt, unlike the similarly sized, but much nicer Lakeview of a few days ago. I got a room at "America's Best Value Inn", which was certainly not America's best value inn, not by a long shot, then walked around to find that once again, all the restaurants were closing at 8:00. So dinner was a bag of guacamole-flavored chips from a supermarket, which I trusted would be sufficient to power me through yet another day of riding in Oregon tomorrow.
Today's ride: 114 miles (183 km)
Total: 600 miles (966 km)
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