Our day began and ended with social encounters, chatting with fellow guests in the hotel lobby. This morning it was Jennifer, a woman here from Portland with her husband - they’ve stopped off here on their way to a family gathering in Joseph. She’s gotten wind that we are cyclists, which interests her because her son is also a cyclist and has an interest in touring. He not long ago had a short tour in northern Thailand cut short by an unfortunate crash that landed him in hospital there with a serious concussion (fortunately he was wearing his helmet). He wants to go back to Southeast Asia, so I passed on links to CycleBlaze and Bruce and Andrea’s journals for his consideration.
This evening it was a curious British couple, here in the Pacific Northwest on a short vacation. They’ve never been to this part of the country and don’t really know that much about it (they confuse Tacoma and Tucson, for example); so spending a night in all but unknown Dufur is an odd vacation choice. We of course are curious, and ask what brought them here. They’re here because they want to see Friend, a virtual ghost town about fifteen miles from here that we biked past earlier today. That’s even more curious - Friend really is virtually unknown, so why there? Because the woman's last name is Friend, of course, and she just wants to see the town bearing the same name as hers.
It’s an interesting travel theme. I’ll have to stare at the map to see if I can come up with a good route that links the towns of Anderson in South Carolina, California, Wisconsin, Texas and Indiana. I’m sure Rocky would be enthusiastic.
So, our British fellow guests have an interesting approach to travel, which isn’t surprising because they also have interesting lives - the gent in particular. He has a unique profession in my experience: he’s a chimney sweep and poet. He instantly gets out his phone to show us photos of himself in his sweep garb, and then starts reciting some of the favorite poems he has composed - including his brand new poem inspired by the Field schoolhouse that they (and we, coincidentally) visited earlier today. And, for all of that he’s just a bit of a bore. After about fifteen minutes of looking for a break in his nonstop patter, we finally managed to extricate ourselves and escape to our room.
So that accounts for the extremes of the day. What about the heart of it? How was the ride, I’m sure you’re wondering by now (speaking of bores who can’t stop talking)?
The ride was awesome, again. Mild, very windy, and gorgeous. I won’t say another word about it. Here are some pictures though so you can see for yourself.
Looking east up Dufur valley as we leave town, we can see that a beautiful day lies ahead of us.
Not much of a photo of this coyote, but it was the best I could do. He was hard to track and focus on as he raced uphill after three deer prancing ahead of him through the wheat field. I couldn’t get a decent shot of them either, but they were great to watch.
Climbing through stands of oak on Dufur Gap Road. This is an odd spot - to the right (west), the oaks continue; but just a hundred yards to the east treeless wheat fields roll on for as far as you can see.
Friend School, established in 1909, is one of a number of one room schoolhouses in the region. I craned my neck without success to peek inside, but the windows are too high up. At the hotel tonight, one of the other guests suggested trying the direct approach, as they had today - just open the unlocked front door and step inside. So obvious!
Our flirtation with Friend Road ends after about six miles here, at a cattle guard and the end of the pavement. The road continues on for miles, climbing into the woods and becoming part of a network of NFS roads. We could keep going of course, but neither of us can come up with a good reason to so we just turn back the way we came.
On Dufur Gap Road again, we come to the high point of the day. Ha, ha, Rachael, I got to pose before a higher summit sign yesterday than you are doing. I’m King of the Mountains!
To the north, we can see far off Mount Adams through the wispy cloud cover. This isn’t surprising - on a clear day you can see Adams from many places on the Oregon side of the Columbia.
This though is really a surprise - a knockout view of the northeast face of Mount Jefferson. I don’t recall getting such such a broad view of Jefferson from this angle before.
Now this was really fabulous - this cornflower row extends unbroken for about a quarter mile along Hix Road, aiming straight at a mountain that fills the sky. We must have stopped here for a full ten minutes taking it all in.
And five of those minutes were spent here, trying to get an in-focus, centered photo of the cornflowers. They were whipping around violently in the wind, and I just had to be patient and prepared for a brief lull.
