Where do I live? I live in paradise. It seems like around every bend is another beautiful mountain, river, trail, or valley. I truly am a lucky man. My luck also has something to do with working for myself. Which means that when I received the call from R Kelley about a four day mountain bike adventure in Southern Oregon, I didn’t have to ask the boss for the time off. Well actually I had to ask the wife, she’s really the boss.
And so Friday morning we loaded up the bus, and ventured south on I5. Somewhere around Sutherlin we exited and worked our way up the mountains. The campsite we found wasn’t very private, but there was a small loop to ride around and the hot springs were just a short hike away. After four hours in the bus, and what seemed like two in the market stocking up, sitting in the sulfur water was amazing.
Bright and early the next morning, before the hippies descended and before we hit the trails we spent a little more time in the tubs. If I could soak before every ride, I think I would. But we didn’t drive all this way to sit in hot tubs all day. We came to ride.
We were camped at the bottom of the “Dread and Terror” section, so we took the gravel road to the top. Thirteen miles of loose gravel in the hot sun.
When we finally hit the turn off, Mason and I were greeted by a mint Westfalia that looked much like Marv, but in much better condition. It was indeed a sign of good things to come.
Down the road a bit, before the trail started we crossed Lemolo Lake and got a great view of Mt. Thielson. Another half mile down the road we found the trail.
About a mile and half after dropping in we paused to check out Lemolo Falls. A 102 foot tall waterfall that we sat on top of. I climbed down to the edge to find an beautiful site. I have never seen colors so vivid before. We put our feet in the water, ate some food, and stared at the waterfall for quite some time.
Having ridden only a mile of singletrack all day, it was finally time to start moving. While I never felt dread or terror, this thirteen mile section of trail was a doosie. Technical rock sections, multiple streams running down the trail, constant ups and downs, and steep drop offs into the river far below made this a long day in the saddle.
Close to the bottom, on the brink of running out of drinking water, we came across a pool of turquoise water. I must have stared at this pool for a good ten minutes. I’m thirty years old and I’ve never seen colors like this. It might have been the dehydration, the beer, or the grass, but everything in Oregon looks good.
The next morning we broke camp and headed towards Oakridge. Highway 138 comes ten miles from Crater Lake, and being the tourists that we are, we tacked the extra miles on to get a couple pictures.
We finally made it to the bottom of the Alpine trail, set up camp and shuttled to the top. I know what you’re saying, and I would have gladly ridden to the top, but this is a democracy we live in. I gave in and was happy sit on my ass the whole way up the mountain.
It’s been a couple years since I last rode this trail and wasn’t quite sure where the drop in was, so when I finally found it I celebrated with a “frosty” beverage while I waited for the others to arrive. From there on out it was nothing but yeehaws! and woo hoos! all the way to the bottom.
I offered this trail in contrast to the Umpqua section we rode the day earlier and it was met with much fanfare.
Back at camp we broke into the Four Loko. By Ryan’s suggestion we bought four of these horrible cans. Fruit punch and blue raspberry. I pretty much blacked out after I took this photo. I also poured some on the shrimp we were cooking. This is a great way to make sure you feel like shit the next day.
In the morning, with the sweet taste of hangover a couple of us rode up the mountain to take one more swing at the trail. Two hours of climbing in the sun was rewarded with an hour of shaded descent. At the bottom, Mason was ready to roll, I was exhausted, and the reality of it being Monday started sinking in. We had to go home. When you work for yourself, you can’t blame the lack of production on anyone else.
God damn I love Oregon.