I like to do rides from my door, if I can. I purchased a one-way ticket from
Amtrak, Emeryville, CA to Klamath Falls, OR, with a checked bike for $20
extra, and the extra fee that would allow me to cancel or reschedule. My
departure date was Thursday evening, 9:30PM, June 18, 2026. My bike as ready
as it could be, with about three or four days worth of food packed, I rolled
down the hill from my house to the train station. I checked in at the counter.
The agent asked me if I knew about the two-inch tire rule and I nodded yes.
Amtrak does not allow tires bigger than two inches. Mine were 2.4", nominally.
The train was late, arriving some time after ten.
This guy, Eric I think, was about to embark on a ride across the
USA on the TransAmerica route
I talked with another touring cyclist. I think his name was Eric. He'd be
riding across the country, from Astoria, Oregon along the
TransAmerica Trail
route, taking three months to arrive in Yorktown, Virginia. So cool! We
briefly compared experiences and ideas as we waited to load our bikes on the
baggage car.
I chose bigger tires than the two-inch tire limit. Truly, I could have put
50mm tires on and been fine on the route I'd planned. I gambled that it
would be OK. One of the two baggage handlers brought it up, but the one in
the car only told me "take off two bags and hand it up to me." So I did.
Phew.
The line to board was long, there was a big collegiate group, maybe forty
kids. The train would be full. I was seated next to a young woman. She was
talkative, but I couldn't quite make out her words, clearly. She had a lot
to say, in a mumbling way.
Sleep
I don't sleep well. It's gotten worse in my 50s. I had ear plugs, a neck
pillow, a cozy hoodie and I'd brought over-the-counter diphenhydramine, AKA Benadryl, along with some CBN / melatonin gummies. I figured I'd
"cheat" with the diphenhydramine. I've tried it before, and to be honest, it
backfires as often as not, leaving me still sleepless, and feeling like a
zombie.
I took two diphenhydramine, and I didn't sleep at all. My seatmate had some
sort of cold, and talked or snored all night. I just don't fit in those
Amtrak seats, I'm too tall to sleep comfortably.
A mennonite man looks out the window of the diner car at dawn
Mount Shasta at dawn
At dawn, I made my way to the diner car to get coffee and something to eat.
I ended up sitting upstairs, in the viewing area of the
Superliner car with a guy named Danny, AKA Danny Boy, AKA Pipes, Pipes because
he likes to sing on the trail. Danny was on his way home from thru-hiking
the Pacific Crest Trail, or PCT. He'd injured his foot, and would be taking
two weeks to heal. We had a good conversation, surreal for me because of the
lack of sleep and dopey feeling from the diphenhydramine.
My bike, at the Klamath Falls, OR Amtrak station
My bike in front of a mural in Klamath Falls celebrating the
arrival of the first train
Breakfast at A Leap of Taste, the same place where we ate and
watered up, before starting the Oregon Outback
The weather was grey and chilly, and the forecast warned that lightning
could ignite fires in the area. After coffee and a breakfast sandwich at the
same spot in town that we started from last time, I got some energy bars, an
avocado and a few other items at the grocery in town, then started pedaling,
this time up Old Fort Road, which climbs from town. There's no shoulder, and I
had the song White Lines, by
Grandmaster Melle Mel going through my head, holding that white line on the
edge of the road.
Old Fort Road turns from asphalt to dirt
A morning view of a beautiful valley on Old Fort Road
A pond at the 2 Lazy K Ranch
Old Fort Road turned to dirt, I stopped getting passed by trucks, and
the scenery got prettier. I approached Hwy 97, and began wondering if I might
see our white Sprinter van go by; my wife was driving from Oakland north
toward Bend the same day.
Starting the climb up National Forest Development Road 9718 from
Hwy 97 and Hagelstein County Park
A panorama above Upper Klamath Lake
I've driven Highway 97 alongside Klamath Lake several times. There's a high
mesa to the east, to your right if you're going north, and on the side of that
mesa are old roads that go diagonally, up the side. I've always wondered about
them. This route does just that; you ride a surface road to Hagelstein County
Park, then jog onto the Highway for a few hundred yards before turning almost
180ยบ and climbing an old, rough, paved road up the side of the mesa. It was
really nice. I saw a Subaru and a moto. I paused at an excellent view spot,
about noon for a little snack and hydration, then continued over the top.
Climbing National Forest Development Road 9718
gummy bears make me feel better
I was surprised to see aspen trees.
Chiloquin Ridge Road / NF-5810 changes from dirt to asphalt
At the Sprague River
I filtered and filled three liters at the Sprague River. In hindsight I should have filtered six liters, and chugged one! It's a long time until the next water opportunity.
Chiloquin Ridge Road & Sprague River Road
little purple flowers carpeted this rarely-traveled section of NF-5811
NF-5811 turns into this pale tan pumice that is hard to ride, or push through. It's soft and powdery, and doesn't hold a firm shape.
These tracks in the soft, powdery road were later to be identified as Grant and Jev's.
A pile of slash on NF-9731, I saw a lot of this on day 1
This confusing spot is actually on the route, stepping across these downed wires, you approach a crossing or the railroad line. This is the right way, the old road off-camera, to the left is not.
This is the correct crossing of the rail line, on the route. You can see where I came from; the pale tan patch upper middle left, across the tracks.
Here we transition from the dusty pumice of NF-9731 to the "red sauce" of
Kirk - Broy Mill Road / NF-4502
My bike on Kirk - Broy Mill Road, AKA NF-4502
The dry bed of the Williamson River, near Hwy 97 - no water to filter here.
At highway 97, about to begin the rerouted section provided by Patrick's
Existential Crisis, I realized I'd been a bit too optimistic about water. The
Williamson River bed was dry, and I still had a long way to go before I'd hit
guaranteed water; the Mazama Campground near the rim. I had maybe 1.5 liters
left. I debated with myself, then I decided to be humble and stand alongside
97, waving an empty nalgene bottle upside down. Some nice gravel riders
stopped. Gave me a couple liters. Phewf! Thank you, Clara and Natalie from
Reno. Carrying 5 liters, I continued into Winema National Forest with
optimism.
Winema National Forest was a welcome change; healthy, unlogged forest
NF-9740
I was planning on 60 miles, but at mile 55, the high point of NF-9740 I
heard "Hey!' from the woods. I saw some cyclists camped, and said
"Hey!" back. I was so tired; no sleep, and riding all day. These young guys,
Jev and Grant from Portland invited me to camp with them. They were out of
water, and seemed to be targeting Lost Creek Campground, which was further
east, and behind us. I offered to share some of my water. I set up, ate some
gummies and went to bed. I slept well.
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