113.57 miles (Total: 4141.69) Avg Speed: 12.6mph Max Speed: 37.5mph
I went out into an empty downtown Redmond alone this morning in search of breakfast. I managed to find one place that opened at 7am for a breakfast burrito, they had some Led Zeppelin playing too, cashback!
Redmond, OR
It was described as Flag City USA, every street was lined with flags. Ridiculous.
Once on the road we headed to the town of Sisters where Siemen had went to last night, there are actually three sisters in Sisters named after the 3 mountain peaks viewable from town. They grew taller with each pedal and were pretty stunning coupled with distant views of mount Washington on the other side of the road.
After passing through Sisters we began to climb Mackenzie Pass, the final major pass of the TransAm. Just at the bottom we caught up with Siemen who was stopped talking to a homeless guy called Paul. He told us some stories about being held at gunpoint and his dog who road with him in the back. When we continued I found the gradual climb a piece of cake, the trees soon turned to old lava flows formed thousands of years ago.
Paul’s ride and his dog.
Drafting some free miles at the back.
Volcanic rocks.
Top of the final pass.
Terry & Jessica coming up the climb.
The descent which followed was the biggest of the trip, around 5,000 feet over 30 miles. Me and Wim flew on ahead and I nearly caused us both to crash with a stupid overtake. Not a single car passed us the whole way down, infact with all the switchbacks I’m certain a well manoeuvred bike would beat a car everytime down the mountain. We stopped for lunch at McKenzie Bridge and added up the remaining miles if we were to get to Eugene tonight, it was around 50 having already done 65. We knew we would have to work as a team with a headwind against us so we formed a draft which allowed us to fly through the miles.
I thought about how quickly you could do this route with a bunch of people working all the time like this, some people do it. Many because of time constraints but others because they see the ride as a test of performance. Its not the way I see it, I feel like I have paced myself perfectly seeing and enjoying everything I wanted.
The Eugene Draft - could have gone across country in about 3 weeks with this.
Mr Jansma enjoying a carton.
We make Eugene a little before sunset proud of a good days work, my body barely even felt it. I’m in the best (probably the only) shape of my life. After pizza next door to the motel room, which we had split 5-ways, the gang returned to rest up. Tomorrow its the coast, living on an island like Britain its been mentally challenging to be landlocked for over 2 months, seeing the Pacific is going to be great.
I walked out into an empty downtown Redmond alone that morning, hunting for something resembling breakfast. Found exactly one place open at seven, ordered a breakfast burrito, and got Led Zeppelin on the stereo as a bonus — cashback, as far as I was concerned.
Redmond, OR
It was described as Flag City USA, every street was lined with flags. Ridiculous.
Back on the road we rode toward Sisters, where Siemen had ended up the night before — a town named, appropriately, for the three mountain peaks visible from its streets. They grew taller with every mile, Mount Washington rising in the distance on the far side of the road just to round things out.
Past Sisters we started up McKenzie Pass, the final major climb of the entire TransAm — a fact that sat with me differently than any of the previous ones had. At the bottom we found Siemen already stopped, deep in conversation with a homeless man named Paul, who told us about being held at gunpoint once and about the dog that rode with him wherever he went. The climb itself turned out to be easy, gradual enough that I barely noticed it, the forest slowly giving way to old lava flows laid down thousands of years before any of us were dreamed of.
Paul’s ride and his dog.
Drafting some free miles at the back.
Volcanic rocks.
Top of the final pass.
Terry & Jessica coming up the climb.
What came down the other side was the biggest descent of the whole trip — something like five thousand feet over thirty miles. Wim and I flew ahead of the others, and I nearly wrecked us both with one genuinely stupid overtake along the way. Not a single car passed us the entire way down; with all those switchbacks stacked one after another, I’m convinced a bike ridden well would beat a car down that mountain every single time. We stopped for lunch in McKenzie Bridge and did the math on Eugene — about fifty miles left, having already covered sixty-five, and a headwind waiting to argue with us the rest of the way. So we formed up into a proper draft line and let the miles disappear.
I found myself thinking, somewhere in there, about how quickly this whole route could be ridden by a group determined to work together like that the entire way across — plenty of people do exactly that, some because they’re racing the clock, others because they see the whole crossing as a test to be won. That was never how I saw it. I’d paced myself exactly the way I wanted, to see and feel everything along the way, and a hundred and thirteen miles of drafting into Eugene wasn’t going to change my mind about that now.
The Eugene Draft - could have gone across country in about 3 weeks with this.
Mr Jansma enjoying a carton.
We rolled into Eugene a little before sunset, proud of the day’s work and — remarkably — barely feeling it in the legs. I was in the best shape of my life by then, quite possibly the only real shape I’d ever been in. Pizza next door to the motel, split five ways, and the whole gang turned in early. Tomorrow was the coast at last. Coming from an island myself, being landlocked for over two months had worn on me in ways I hadn’t quite expected, and the thought of finally laying eyes on the Pacific after all these weeks of riding felt like something worth losing a little sleep over.