On the way to Oakridge, we ended up having to get new tires in La Pine, Oregon. (Doesn't that name have hometown of a serial killer written all over it?) The rear started losing it's tread on the freeway, and on a Subaru, all tires must be replaced at once. Luck being on our side, they were able to have some trucked down from Bend, OR right away, and the whole process only took about an hour and a half. We found a place to go bowling, and admire numerous deer/buffalo/bison/etc. heads of various sizes on the walls. (So maybe just a massive mammal serial killer lives here? Anyways.) This place was so classy, you had to hand-tally your bowling score, which was really a math lesson in itself. (I won).
Tires in place, we made it out of La Pine intact and to Oakridge in about an hour. This place is gorgeous. Trees as far as the eyes can see. A river, various lakes. We actually had to cross a large red covered bridge to get to our camp site.
Anyhow, the hubs wanted to check out the race course, and I offered to drive shuttle. But our friend, lets call him Crusty, really wanted to go fishing and kept suggesting I ride. After some losing arguments made by myself about how I am TOO SLOW to ride when its almost DARK, Crusty drove Scott and I up the hill to ride. We compromised and decided to only ride the second half, as to get home before dark.
Shortly after being dropped off, we found the trail was steeper than expected, and in the UP direction. Which means yours truly was riding about as fast as a squirrel swims.
We continued through gorgeous, but dense forest, and on a skinny single track trail. As the sun went down, so did visibility, and the next thing you know, your bike is hurdling off drops like cliffs with you as a mere passenger screaming and praying to whatever being created this earth, and begging, I dont want to die today!!!!!!!
Ok, not really. A few bumps were unexpected, but we found a fire road just about the time twilight settled in. We figured a fire road would be a faster and safer route at dusk. Still, it was me, Scott, and our bikes. No phones, no lights, no food, and no jackets. If I hadn't started getting nervous, I may have considered murdering my husband. If he hadn't encouraged me to be a better bike rider, if he hadnt believed in me, I might not be mountain lion food tonight. However, being that he was mountain lion food as well, and my chances of survival were 50% better with him leading the way to possible safety/distracting said large hungry cat, I did not murder him. I did wimper a bit though, as we rode about 5 miles through the dark, with moonlight (and paralyzing fear) as our guide. Eventually we got to the bottom of the mountain, found the train tracks, and used them as our guide back to camp. We rolled up to our campsite at 9:30. In actuality I wasnt that scared, but that will teach those boys to have faith in my bike skills.
The kicker? Crusty couldn't even catch us a friggin fish to fry.
As it turns out, Alpine trail (the race course) was breathtakingly beautiful in the day light, and proved to be a fantastic ride for me the next day. Total time of leisurely completion: 3 hours. Anywho, a couple of off-the-net pictures of this race (our pictures were destroyed, more on that later)....
(update: got some pics of Crusty's camera... here's my fav in the flowers)
After we wrapped up in Oakridge (Scott got 12th in his race out of 100+, which I believe is a sore subject with him), we headed up to Corvallis. A lot of people have told me that Corvallis is so much like our own hometown, that I would love it, that we should add that to our prospective when-we-move-to-Oregon list. I liked it. I got drunk there. But I didn't see a lot of reason to live there. It's inland. It's flat. It's downtown is cool, but not amazing. But, I'm probably missing something. We only spent about 16 hours there, and at least 8 of them I was drunk.
I think this is a good place to conclude part one, so I will leave you with a picture of some impressive leg muscles.
OMG, DYING LAUGHING!!!!
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