Oregon Outback - Day 7

Previously: Oregon Outback - Day 6

Greg had reserved a rental truck in The Dalles for his group's return; Monty, Andreas and himself, with Adam getting a ride with them to Bend, while I intended to take two buses from The Dalles to Portland, where I would rent a tiny house via Airbnb and spend time with my kids, before returning home the Monday after via Amtrak. To make the most time we again woke at 6:30 a.m., packed up for the last time, on the seventh day, and began riding the rest of the Deschutes River Trail out toward its intersection with the Columbia River Gorge. 

It's pretty country, riding along on this old rail bed opposite the remaining, existing railroad, with its active trains, above the beautiful river, watching guide boats and camps. We passed hooptie bikes on the side of the trail that were used by fishermen to get to their fishing spots. In several places the trail departed from its alignment due to a missing, long-gone trestle, and in one of these descents there was a small creek crossing. I was following Adam and Greg, both on mountain bikes, and when I got to the creek, too close behind Greg, my front tire hit a rock and I had to put my foot down. 

Unfortunately, Monty was right behind me and he also stalled, attempting to put his foot down but ending up rolling onto his back in the creek. He was soaked! I felt terrible. We got up to the other side of the declivity, while Monty began stripping down his wet clothes to change. I discovered I had one bar of cellular coverage and began texting with my wife, who had been trying to set up an Airbnb rental for me. Greg tried calling the truck rental place, but the cell signal was too weak. Monty finished changing and we rode out to the Deschutes River State Recreation Area, and the confluence of the Deschutes and Columbia rivers. 

Photo by Adam Shapiro

Here was the Columbia River Highway, another busy highway that we didn't want to spend time on, so we quickly got on to Old Moody road, the bikepacking route to The Dalles, which is a dirt road up on the southern side of the River gorge, high up above the highway. The beginning of this climb is brutally steep, and after two nights of insomnia I was really hurting. We slowly climbed up to the high point. I can honestly say this was the hardest climb of the week. 

I shall now be known as Old Moody.

Once up on top we rolled along through agricultural lands, looking down on the magnificent Columbia River to our right, before reaching the end of Old Moody Road, where we began a generally downhill ride on Fifteenmile Road, finally passing through orchards to the city of The Dalles. 

Suddenly we were in metropolitan Oregon, with cars and trucks and businesses. It was a bit disorienting. As we rolled along the southern side of the highway system, parallel to it, heading west I put earbuds in so I could get directions from Google to my bus stop, as I was not going to the same truck rental place as the rest. I got to a spot where I would have to turn right, and they would continue straight, and I called out that I had to say goodbye. 

There on the side of a busy road, I got my friends to pose for a picture, gave them each a hug, said my goodbyes with the proviso that maybe we'd see each other before we all left town, then followed the directions in my ears north across the highway to a bike path, then west through industrial and strip mall zones, construction sites and past homeless people to the west end of town where the transit center is, and there I talked to some nice ladies at the bus station, who gave me the cost and timing for the next bus. They were curious about my trip so I told them some stories about my journeys, feeling like a stranger in a strange land. I looked across the road to see El Pueblito, a little Mexican food stand. There I had a delicious lunch of Mexican Coke, jamaica agua fresca and a super burrito with al pastor meat. 

I got on their Wi-Fi and uploaded pictures, basically killing time until the bus came. It was sunny and warm, and I had that unreal, dream-like experience of knowing I'd just finished a big bike ride, a big challenge with friends, and that I'd be returning to real life eventually, but first I'd have a few more days in Portland with my children. 

I got the 36 bus, costing $1 at 1:55 p.m., loaded my bike on the front rack after taking off the front and rear packs. I tried, but failed to secure the hook on the front wheel all the way to the fork crown due to the Manything cage on the fork leg, but used an extra strap to secure the rear wheel while the old bus driver watched me with what seemed like impatience. I hustled onto the bus, gave him a glass and he took off at a speed that made me worry about that bike! I nervously watched the bike as he sped toward Hood River, but the bike seemed secure. After a few stops, we reached Hood River. There I got on a bigger bus, repeated the operation of loading my bike on the front, gave the driver $10 and an hour later, around 3:40 p.m. I arrived in Portland at the Gateway Transit Center where I reloaded the bags, and under a hotter sun, input the address of my tiny house in Google maps, and with earbuds in my ears and very tired legs, slowly crossed town, finding my tiny house, stowing my bike in the back deck, immediately throwing everything I had in the washing machine and getting in the shower. 

It's now two days later, and I'm writing this story out on my phone. I'm going to go for a ride here in town before visiting with my kids again tonight. I hope you enjoyed this, if you have not done this ride and you like bikepacking, it's a good one to consider, I would do it again.

The bike and gear worked great. I would bring a 15° bag instead, leave the swim/hike shorts at home, bring the Leatherman/knife, and maybe carry a bit less food. You can do this on a gravel bike or a mountain bike. I didn't feel I needed suspension, and could have done it on narrower, 45mm tires.