49.25 miles, 3660 feet, average 13.3 mph, maximum 43 mph
38° on the thermometer at the campsite this morning. All I’m missing is my long-fingered gloves, and they’ve gotten buried somewhere. Never mind, I’ll survive numb fingers.
Loren’s cough was worse. He’s actually sick, not just down with a cold. Not good news. We drove to Westwood for breakfast. If we can’t go through Lassen, our alternatives are the central valley (fat chance!) and Susanville (map). It would have been nice to ride the Bizz Johnson trail, but once again, the opportunity didn’t really present itself. Recognized all the murals in Susanville, including the one that was in progress when we were here before, now completed of course.
We stopped at AAA for maps and an updated tour guide. Tim is a member. Then went north on 139 to Adin. High desert country, bare earth visible around each discrete plant. Pretty boring after a while.
Adin is a no-op town. We went on through Canby; unfortunately the Canby Hotel has not yet been demolished. Stopped at the ranger station in Alturas (map). They said 299 is open and gave us a guide to the local businesses.
Several of the motels advertised kitchenettes. Since I’m paying most of the bills, I get to define the rules. I said I’d pay for camping and restaurant meals, or motel/cabin accommodations if we do our own cooking. We’ll eat better if we cook for ourselves anyway, so this is my preference, especially if Loren is going to be sick.
Stopped at a motel at the edge of town. I said we had four people, needed three beds, two rooms, one kitchen (I got pretty good at that phrase after a few days!). Done.
The flyer mentioned a Thai restaurant in town (they called it California cuisine), so I was a little sorry I’d insisted we do our own cooking. When we went out walking later, I saw the place, in a former drive-in, and decided we might not have missed out on much.
I was going stir-crazy after sitting in the car all morning. Not even hungry – I just wanted a ride. Tim was with me. Loren went straight to bed; we left Shannon to sort out food for tonight.
I had read good things about Surprise Valley and the Warner Range, and today was the opportunity to check them out. We rode to Cedarville, over 6305' Cedar Pass. This is an extremely well-graded road. You’d pick a gear and stay in it for long stretches before needing to pick another gear. Well done. Beautiful mountain forests, open meadows with streams running through them, lumpy black volcanic rock overhead.
Tailwind on the uphill, warm in the sun – we may have hypothermia on the way down. I brought a jacket, but Tim didn’t. We’ll try to get back before the day starts to really cool off. At the pass, which marks the boundary of the Great Basin, the volcanic rock is right here close at hand.
A good grade on the downhill, too. I got down on the aero bars. The computer read 40 mph ±3. Didn’t need the brakes, and no cars came along to pass. Who could ask for anything more? Beautiful mountains overhead, really grotesque lava formations alongside, and a large alkali flat in the valley ahead.
Cedarville is a pleasant little town, on a shelf well above the alkali flat. We checked out the old trading post, admired the lilacs and tulips. The season is late enough here that a lot of the trees are just starting to leaf out. Rode north as far as the airport, but it looked like more of the same, so we turned back. Found a bakery where a really nice young woman sold us the strangest cinnamon rolls I’ve ever eaten – made with white sugar. But we sat on the wooden steps out front, enjoyed the sun and the day and a friendly old woman who stopped to chat, and didn’t complain.
More work going back: a steeper uphill grade, a headwind, and a gentler downhill. No matter – it was as close to a perfect day and a perfect place as one could ever hope for.
Just outside Alturas a couple of dogs dropped in behind us, not barking, not aggressive, just out for a run. They followed us at 17 mph for a mile or more. Pretty healthy dogs they have around here!
The agricultural inspection station waved us through the RV lane. I guess a bicycle qualifies as an RV. And Loren and Shannon drove by on their way back to Alturas from a short visit to Goose Lake.
Loren was feeling a little better, but definitely not good. He has a fever. As well as concern for Loren, I’m worried that the rest of us may get this bug, too.
By the time Tim and I had showered and changed, Shannon had brewed up spaghetti with sauce full of veggies. Better than restaurant food by a long shot. Maybe we’ll try to do this all the time.
We went wandering through the town in the twilight. Not much to see here. Tim recalled the place better than I, from driving through in 1993 on our way to the Canadian Rockies.
Back to the motel, where we did our best to demolish half a gallon of ice cream. And our best is pretty good.
The plan for tomorrow is that Tim and I will try to start early and ride to Tulelake, about a hundred miles. Loren says he’ll take another day off the bike. He and Shannon will do laundry (a big Thank You!) and catch us, whereupon we will likely drive on to Klamath Falls, where Shannon wants to go see a waterfall (she didn’t see any in the Feather River canyon?). Sounds good.
79.70 miles, 2220 feet, average 15.3 mph.
Another cold clear morning. Breakfast at 7 – to the dismay of Loren and Shannon, who would have liked to sleep later. Loren is still sick, still has a fever. They will try to find a doctor this morning.
Tim and I set off on our bikes. Stopped for sticky buns and coffee at Canby, then turned northwest. Beautiful high sparse forest, miles of good road just below 5000', views of Shasta’s totally white cone from time to time. After our experience with Lassen, it’s clear that we won’t be able to do anything on or near Shasta, so we’ll skip it for this trip. We made exceptionally good time to the Lava Beds National Monument turn-off at 51 miles: 16.2 mph average. A perfect day, a perfect place for riding.
The road to the Lava Beds slowed us down: it’s much rougher and full of short, choppy hills. We stopped at the visitor center, refilled the water bottles, visited Mushpot Cave.
Just as we came up from the cave, Loren and Shannon pulled into the parking lot.
Tim and I rode on while Loren and Shannon checked out the cave and visitor center. Just as I had remembered it, the lava beds themselves are fields of unimaginable desolation, useless probably forever, even for desert vegetation.
Loren and Shannon caught us up in the car; we agreed to meet at Captain Jack’s Stronghold. What a great picnic they laid on for us! Never since the invention of the bicycle have cyclists been so spoiled.
Loren is up and down, feels fine one moment and ready to die the next. Now Shannon seems to be coming down with the bug – bad news. The medics at Alturas weren’t very helpful, downright rude when they found Loren and Shannon weren’t on a big health maintenance plan. The Kids were pretty unhappy, and no wonder.
We loaded the bikes onto the car and drove to Klamath Falls. A hot afternoon and we were all tired and grumpy. Klamath Falls didn’t impress: suburban sprawl. The TI signs weren’t well located. We didn’t really look at the downtown as we drove through, just sought out the C of C, then hunted for a motel with a kitchen. The woman at the C of C said there was, once upon a time, a waterfall, but not since the power company had rebuilt the river. Shannon was very apologetic about dragging us up here to no purpose. I suggested we go to Crater Lake tomorrow as a consolation prize. That cheered people up a little.
Found a motel, two rooms, one kitchen. Tim and I volunteered to do the cooking tonight. Albertson’s grocery store a block away: got whole-grain rice and a red bell pepper and some sugar peas. Brewed it all up with spaghetti sauce, an onion, a pile of black pepper and some oregano. No one complained.
Back to Albertson’s for some vitamin C tablets. Maybe there’s a way to avoid catching this. The pharmacist recommended 500 mg three times a day. I shared the tablets with the rest of the gang – it can’t hurt and I sure hope it helps. From watching Loren, this looks like a really unpleasant bug to catch.
I still feel fine this morning. Shannon is speaking in a whisper. Tim is coughing; Loren is perhaps a little better.
I scrambled up a dozen eggs with a red bell pepper and a purple onion. Looked a little strange, but again, no one complained. (They know they’d have to do better if they objected to my cooking.) We loaded up the car and drove to Crater Lake.
Open, flat meadows with deciduous trees, surrounded by evergreen-clad hills. Snow-topped peaks visible in one direction or another. Still reminds me of Colorado.
I had the idea I might ride around the lake, a 33-mile ring road. Long before we reached the lake, that idea was gone. We started seeing snow below 5000'. The road ran into beautiful evergreen forest as it climbed the mountain. The snow became ubiquitous, then deep, until we were driving through a channel of snow two or three times as high as the car. Clear, beautiful day, nice road, and nothing to see anywhere but walls of snow.
The visitor center was snowed in, its only access a tunnel through a side entrance. The ring road normally opens in July. But we could go to Rim Village, 7100', where there were views of the lake. Very nice!
As well as the lake itself, there’s a chalet. Obviously not Swiss or German, because it has no window boxes for geraniums. Not all that early in the season: it opens in another week. Today it was full of craftsmen of various kinds getting it ready to open.
Well worth seeing, even if it does condemn us to another day in the car. I considered riding down, but I’m a little concerned about possible icy patches in the shade, and I don’t want to hold up the others.
We stopped for a picnic at Stewart State Park on the Lost Creek Reservoir. Very pretty place. By now, Tim was thoroughly miserable. Loren still up and down, probably slowly improving, but certainly not healthy. I hope he’ll be ready for Sunday’s ride: it doesn’t look as if Tim will be. Shannon thinks she’s ok. As for me, I have my fingers crossed. And my toes. And my eyes and my ears… And I eat my vitamin C pill religiously.
Stopped at a rest stop back in California for tourist info and a break from the car. Then finished the last ten miles into Yreka, where I rented a quite expensive – but very nice – suite at the Best Western. Two bedrooms, good kitchen, even a swimming pool.
Groceries: I’m the chef, and I nominate stir-fry Szechuan veggies for tonight, along with more of this whole-grain rice, and a few additional veggies such as onion, thrown in, just to make it good. Got a carton of grapefruit juice, a half-flat of strawberries, and a couple of Rogue River Stouts to share with the beer drinkers. Pretty decadent.
Shannon hadn’t brought a swim suit, but wanted to swim. So we went out to explore the town and find a Goodwill store. While Shannon was hunting out cheap swimsuits, I stopped in at a bike shop, asked about riding down the Klamath valley.
Guy said Somes Bar is 85 miles, highway 96 is pretty but narrow with lots of traffic, logging trucks, etc. I passed that through my filter and concluded that it should be an okay ride. Mañana!
The beer was good, the stir-fry was good. This grocery-store cuisine is absolutely the right way to eat on the road. We couldn’t possibly have eaten this well in restaurants, nor as inexpensively.
By the end of the day, Loren was feeling much better. He even donned a pair of cut-offs and went swimming with Shannon. Tim, on the other hand, was much worse. Shannon seems to be ok. Tim crashed; Loren and Shannon and I went out for a twilight walk. Pleasant little town – actually bigger than I would have thought. The main street is Broadway, which isn’t. The broad way is actually Main street, which is business 101. Is that clear?
Phoned Jacky, just checking in.
121.86 miles, 3280 feet, average 15.1 mph.
I was awake around 6; tried to sleep until 6:30, didn’t quite succeed. Got up, moved all my stuff to the living room so I wouldn’t disturb Tim, made myself breakfast. No sign of life from the others.
Went and paid the bill. By the time I got back, Loren and Shannon were awake. Told them I was going to ride out. Shannon was visibly very disappointed. She had hoped to do some riding herself today. My conscience bothered me all day. I had to admit I’m just an impatient jerk.
But it was a nice day for a ride. Rode north from Yreka to highway 96, then down the Klamath valley. It was a wide, shallow valley, open and hot in the sun even when I started at 7:40. Unfortunately, it didn’t really ever turn into a narrow, steep, rocky, picturesque, cool, shady river canyon. The river falls so gradually that one frequently sees no white water at all. As valleys go, it’s ok (damning with faint praise). A road to ride once, but not twice. And only once did I see mountains on the horizon capped with snow. Nowhere near the Trinity Alps I was hoping to see on this trip. Next time…
Made good time: averaged 16 mph for the first 80 miles. The average grade is something like 0.2% downhill, too small to see, but enough to make the riding easier and faster. Really not very much traffic at all, and a fine road surface. I think the guy in the bike shop was just trying to make sure I wouldn’t sue him in case I came out here and got killed.
I had hoped that Loren and Shannon and Tim would catch me at Happy Camp where a sign advertised Pizza!, but they didn’t. Not much further along, they caught me, and I suggested they drive ahead and find a picnic spot. They chose a turnout just above the river. Strawberries and sandwiches: outstanding! What a great crew! Made my peace with Shannon, who had gone riding around Yreka with Loren, discovered that she’s a little sick herself. Tim is surviving. Loren is better, but still coughing.
Today’s objective was Somes Bar. The guy in the bike shop said 85 miles. The road signs added to numbers between 110 and 116 miles, depending on which ones you believed. The numbers on the map added to 112. As for me, I don’t believe anything.
When I eventually got there, the computer said 113. Nothing there but a store and a gas station, and my crew, waiting patiently in the shade. No public drinking water, and the locals were distinctly unfriendly. The day had turned hot and we were all tired and uncomfortable. After a long day in the saddle I was pretty sore.
While waiting for me to ride to Somes Bar, the Crew had gone on to Orleans, said there were a couple of places there. Shannon said she’d ride with me to Orleans. Oh, argh! my poor sore butt! But it was only seven miles… ok.
She set out at a pace I wasn’t willing to match, but on the first uphill discovered she was sicker than she thought. I rode on ahead, sent Loren and Tim back with the car to rescue her. By the time they returned with Shannon, I was in Orleans.
One of the motels looked closed; the other was a collection of cottages a quarter mile down the river. So I rode while the Kids drove. This was one of these country quarter-miles… a mile later we came upon the place. It would have been perfectly fine except that it was full. Groan!
No more riding for me, not today. The guy at the cottages recommended a place four miles down the road, which also had No Vacancy. Weitchpec turned out to be just a store, not even a town.
Hoopa isn’t much of a town, but it had a Best Western. Turns out its raison d’être is an Indian casino center. We didn’t haggle, just took two rooms. No kitchens and there are no restaurants in town. So we unloaded the car, went to the grocery store looking for things we could eat as-is. Did pretty well: fruit yogurt, sandwiches, cheese, peanut butter; and Shannon made soup in the coffee pot. Only the avocado was a failure, so green it was inedible.
And thus we survived another one. More or less. Recovered our cheerfulness when we found the French windows from our rooms gave onto a lawn overlooking the river. Too bad there were speedboats roaring up and down, practicing for the races this weekend.
Up at 7 for breakfast in our room, supplemented by the motel’s continental breakfast. Friendly, talkative woman at the counter.
Then we drove toward the coast. This western stretch of 299 would be a day’s work in itself: two 2000' climbs, one after the other.
At the coast, we found cool fog, a welcome change after yesterday’s heat. We turned north, thinking there might be some whales to watch at Patrick’s Point. I expected that we’d have to camp tonight because of the cycling crowd, but we tried for lodging at Trinidad and got a cabin in the midst of a redwood grove. We’re far enough away from the center of things that it’s not a problem, although we’ll have to get up early tomorrow to go to Ferndale for the ride. If any of us is in shape to ride tomorrow. Tim clearly won’t be; Loren… maybe.
We spent several hours at the state park. In the sea, sea lions. In the air and on the water: cormorants, ducks, even a lone elegant pelicant. On shore: a black snake, many banana slugs. In the tidepools: anemones, a starfish, lots of crabs, hermit and otherwise. But no whales. They probably heard I was coming.
 |
 |
 |
Starving, we found a café in Trinidad that had good vegetarian choices. Then we drove on to Eureka for a slow stroll around the old town. What a depressed and depressing place! Even in the midst of the mall were empty storefronts. The best things about the town were the two used-book stores.
This fellow rode a preview of the Tour yesterday. He’s 25 years old.
Stopped for groceries on the way back, then packed it in for the night. I brewed up a mix of rice, tomatoes, and beans. Covered the whole thing with some stir-fried oriental veggies and another red bell pepper. The 8-ball stout from the Lost Coast brewery was great!
Then Loren and Shannon and I went down to the beach for a great view of a dim pink sunset behind the rocks. I left them behind, wandered back to the motel. They assure me I’m not in the way, but if they’re telling the truth, they’re missing an opportunity.
Dave Hood home
Email: 