Day 7: Alvord Hot Springs to Frenchglen

Mileage for the day: 72 miles
Total mileage for the trip: 521 miles

I woke up in the morning not knowing if I was seeing the sun or the moon glowing through the tent. Like I said, the full moon was extremely bright, and I was awakened a couple of times in the night by it. I slowly got my things together and made breakfast, partly because of hanging out late the night before, and partly because I absolutely dreaded The Road (and the ten or so miles I had left to travel before it became pavement again.

As I was putting away my tent, I saw the funniest thing: a scraper coming down the road, grading it! I laughed and fumed at the same time. Oh, if only it had come through a day earlier! It turned out that the grading didn't make matters any better for a cyclist on The Road, though... in fact it made them worse. Gone were the small patches of firmly packed soil that I could hop between yesterday. Now, all of the surface had been turned over, leaving a fine silty top, interspersed with large pieces of gravel and rocks. Ugh, if only you had seen me trying to navigate it. It was something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemies.

Finally, I saw the sign that designated the start of the pavement up ahead. With only a few hundred yards ahead I hear a pop and a bunch of scraping from the back of the bike. I soon found that I had broken off an eyelet that held my rear rack on. I tried to contain my irritation while I assessed my situation: Miles from nowhere, out of range of communication with anyone, and a crucial piece of equipment broken by The Road. After a bit of rummaging in my toolbag, I pieced together a quick kludge of zipties and hose clamp to get me out of there.

The first order of business was to go to the Fields Station, a tiny diner and supply store that is famous for its milkshakes. Honestly, it should be famous for how freakin' far out in the middle of nowhere it is, because Good Lord it's way out there.

I got a shake and some lunch while chatting with the ladies behind the counter. They were all very personable and talkative, curious about my trip and joking around with the customers. As I was leaving the middle-aged couple who passed me in the van the day before came in, and we talked for some time about the trip and their vacation. As I was leaving, I asked the ladies about the roads on the way back to Burns, and they said that the ride out of Fields was a bit of a pain. Boy, were they right about that. Right out of Fields, on the backside of Steens Mountain heading north, a massive climb began. A grueling 8 miles later, I was at the top and my shake and lunch were long gone.

The rest of the day I spent on long stretches on the back of the mountain. None of the riding was too laborious, but I was really fatigued by two days of The Road, and of course the huge climbs that I had been doing a lot of lately.

A few miles out from Frenchglen I started to climb again, a pretty frustrating feeling when you are looking forward to being done for the day. This went on for a mile or too and then, out of nowhere, the road pitched down- as if over a huge cliff- with the valley below laid out wide open. I saw a sign that said "14% Grade - Next 3 Miles", and I smiled.

I went to the Frenchglen Hotel, a famous old inn (and the only one in these parts), and when I walked in, everyone was sitting down to dinner, drinking wine and everything. I felt like I just crashed the party, all smelly and dirty, sunburned as could be with wild hair from being mashed in my helmet all day. The manager was nice enough to fix me a plate after the "main" dinner that I ate while we chatted. I showered and passed out almost immediately. That night, I slept so hard I actually remembered my dream (an uncommon occurrence) and didn't wake once before morning.