North Umpqua Trail Epic

For many moons I'd been hearing little tidbits here and there about the North Umpqua Trail, a rather long trail that winded along a river in South Western Oregon. Something like the Mackenzie River Trail, but supposedly bigger and better. Lots of tough sections, and great scenery, etc. Ok I guess it should be investigated. After last weekend's successful uber-long ride, I reckoned that the 80 mile Umpqua trail would go down well for a 2 day weekend ride. I bought a map, did a little research, and it seemed like a good idea to camp around the middle of the trail, then the first day do an out-and-back in the uphill direction (around 35 miles 1-way, but maybe turn around after 25 miles or so), then the second day do a 45-mile shuttle ride in the downhill direction. I proposed this to the Sorenson Gang, and they readily accepted.



Friday night we met up at Toketee Lake campground, which at first seemed like a nice spot : campsites about half-full, lots of families and miscellaneous travellers, and only $7 a night. Well that first night sucked, as there was 1 group of campers who kept us up all night. Everything seemed fine at 11 pm when we hit the sack, but I was awaked shortly before 1 am by the sound of loud trucks unloading crap, the chopping of wood, and loud talking. Ok, some late arrivals, no big deal, and an hour later the truck departed and it was relatively quiet. But then an hour later, back it comes, more wood unloading and chopping and noises, and this went on all fucking night. Now, it wasn't the loud music, screaming yahoos type of noise that would make you yell "Shut the fuck up !", it was just a continuous stream of minor noises that prevented restful sleep.



The next morning, Chris surmised that it must be meth-heads who couldn't sleep, and just kept their fire methodically burning all night while what little brains they had were bouncing around inside their heads unable to sleep. But later we noticed that it was just a conglomeration of fishermen, kids, etc. Whatever. But obviously ignorant oblivious people who had no clue how their actions were affecting others. We also concluded that saying anything to them would be useless, as the type of person who would commit such unneighbourly transgressions would be incapable or unwilling to admit it or ammend their actions.



But hey 1 night of no sleep is never a problem, and off we went at 9am on the day's adventure. We found the trailhead across the bridge at one end of the campsite, and in no time were swooping up and down a buff trail along the river, with massive old growth. It was a non-stop rollercoaster, with short steep climbs, and awesome high-speed descents. Many pictures were taken of giant trees, until I guess we finally got used to them. However one 7-foot diameter specimen stopped us in our tracks for more tree-hugging pix. We were on the Hot Springs segment of the trail, which ended at a campsite with another trail that I guess led to some hot springs - go figure. And then we commenced the Dread And Terror section, so named by early explorers who found the river and its steep thickly forested banks so impenetrable, they were like terrified and dreaded it. This was a long 13-mile section, that traversed high up the bank of the river, and passed through many different vegetation zones. There were also a bunch of wet sections here, due to streams emptying down the slope to the river. Some of the climbs were long and steep, but with rewarding downhills.




Finally arrived at Lemolo Lake, which was a good turning around point. We circumnavigated the lake, and had lunch at a camping area which bordered a foul algae-infused section of the lake, with signs proclaiming the water as 'unsafe'. Hmm, not what you'd expect at a high-altitude lake in the middle of nowhere. But these algae blooms are not uncommon in some of the shallower lakes, and appear to be naturally caused. We had almost run out of water at this point, but waited until we saw a clean stream emptying into the lake before we refilled.





At this point, we could have returned the way we came, but the map showed what looked like a cool trail that followed the ridge way above the Southern edge of the river, so we opted for that. Found the faint trailhead out of the corner of my eye after several wrong turns, and it looked like it hadn't seen any use for years. Followed it for a bit, with the aid of some pink ribbons, but eventually it became even fainter, and we abandoned. Now it appeared too long to go back the way we had come via the lake, so we flew down a gravel road for 5 miles or so. Then we checked out the opposite end starting point for the trail we had abandoned, and it was in much better condition on that side, but left it to explore some other day. Dropped back into the Hot Springs section back to the campsite, and finished the day with another great rollercoaster ride.



Day 1 total : 8.25 hours, 4380 vert ft, 41.8 miles. What a blast ! Now for some beer and grub, but first...



Well we had decided before we got back to the campsite, that rather than risk another sleepless night, we would change sites, or maybe even abandon the campground, and find some other place to camp away from the ignorant obnoxious masses. And as if to affirm our decision, our arrival back at the campground was punctuated with the sound of loud music and screams, emanating from several different locations. Trucks full of rednecks drinking beer patrolled the campground, many of them already shitfaced at this point - it seemed like it would be a freaking warzone here tonight, and we immediately decided plan B - get the hell out of Dodge - was the only option. We'd passed one area on our ride back - Thorn Prairie - which while sounding uncomfortable, had seemed like a great out of the way place to camp. Looking around at the numerous vacant sites, it appeared many others had come to a similar conclusion. Did I mention there was also a faint electronic hum that pervaded the entire camping area ? Emanating from some nearby power station no doubt. On out trek up the riverbank we had heard it at an amplified level in some spots.



Within an hour we had packed up and made our exit, and drove up FS 3401. I noticed a sign to Oakridge along the way - possible shortcut ? And then we passed the source of the electronic hum, coming from some maintenance building - and right beside it, several houses - hmm I wouldn't want to see what mutated specimens lived there :) Just a few miles into our escape journey, we crossed a bridge, and I observed what seemed to be like a perfect campsite along the river. We checked it out, and it seemed like Nirvana : nice rushing river sound, huge open space to pitch tents, and firepit with grill. The only drawback was it was a bit close to the road, but not exactly a high traffic area I would think, so we parked it and setup. Finally got to the beer and chow, and it went down very nicely in the new surroundings. There was a bit more traffic than expected on the road, and one redneck-mobile with screaming yahoos, but other than that quiet after 10 pm, and we all had a good night's sleep.




Day 2 was to be the easier day : a predominately downhill 45 mile ride along the river westward. We dumped a car down at the bottom at Swiftwater Park. The 1-way drive time was 45 minutes, and as we drove back to the start point, the enormity of the journey we were soon to embark on hit us with full force. The river was in an immense canyon most of the way, and often you could see the trail undulating along the edge of the steep bank - sometimes down by the water level, other times hundreds of feet up the wall. Then it would disappear as the wall became too sheer, taking some other route through the surrounding mountains before reappearing again. When I first pictured the Umpqua Trail, I had imagined a meandering little river with a trail running alongside it - sure it would go up and down a bit, but never more than 50-100 feet from the river. But the reality is that this trail is Seriously Big. It's like seeing the Rockies for the first time, when all you've previously known are low rolling hills.

With all the shuttling, and packing up camp, we only get started shortly after 11 am. We are figuring on an 8-hour ride, which should leave us about an hour of daylight. I pack a headlamp just in case.

The first section we tackle right out of the campground is Deer Leap, which starts with a long steep climb, just the thing to wake you up and realize that there might actually be some work involved in this 'downhill' ride. After much grunting up and down, high above the river and around deep ravine stream crossings, we arrive at what appears to be the top of the climb for now, and are greeted with an amazing view of the river canyon and surrounding mountains. The terrain here is very dry and desert-like with the Southern exposure. We start the descent, and soon encounter a common denizen of hot dryish climes : a rattlesnake ! I must have disturbed it as I went by, and hear a commotion behind, with the words "Snake!" being clearly discernable. Supposedly the rattler took a strike at Walt as he went by, and Chris, following close behind, ran over the snake. We get off our bikes and head back up the trail to find the reptile - not hard to do, since the rattle could be heard for quite a distance. He was coiled up a few feet off the trail, ready to strike again. He seemed OK, and we took a few pix and were off.

What followed was probably one of my top 5 downhills of all time - as someone else put it "zippy, woo-hoo kind of stuff". I could add a bunch of adjectives, but you probably get the point. After a while, hit a road, and a closed sign on the continuation of the trail on the other side. I'd heard about this closure, some kind of dam work, so down to the highway for 5 miles of blacktop - at least it was mostly downhill.


Then over a bridge to the South side of the river. At this point we still had 5 sections and 34 miles to go. The next few segments sported a variety of terrain and scenery. Flat smooth rollercoaster sections, technical rock gardens, steep exposed areas, lush green stuff, and everywhere Big Trees. I've never seen so much old growth on a trail in my life. Oh, and also I should mention - no people ! If you crave solitude, this is your place. And if you're hoping to bum a tube off another biker - forget it - we saw 3 other bikers in 2 days, and one of them wasn't even on the trail.


We got to enjoy the Calf Segment, reopened this year after 3 years off the map due to fire damage - lots of brand new bridges, and great charred landscape vistas.


The afternoon wore on, and still we were far from our destination. The endless climbs of small and large proportions were starting to take their toll, and I admitted to being a bit tired. Still enjoying the awesome trail, but eager to be done as well. With 20 miles to go, we had our first 'mechanical', with Spence flatting out - he was running Stans tubeless, with a flyweight tire that was barely able to plug up after a protracted period of Stans'ing (rotating the tire around so the goop plugs the hole, pumping up again, etc.). Finally got going again, and made it through the second to last section, a fairly flat one that skirted the river edge. One especially notable bit was a hand-built rock crib section that flared the trail out over the river.


And now we arrived at the start of the Tioga section, the final link in the chain, but described as the most physically demanding section : 16 miles long, with 2 major climbs. We got freaked out looking at the numbers on the trail map : supposedly 3500 vf of climbing in this section. Had to be a misprint, right ? But looking at what we'd already been through, it seemed possible. I made a note of our elevation gain so far - 2940 vf - to see if this crazy number was right. Right at the start, Spence flatted again, and after farting around for 15 minutes trying to plug it without success, we decided to slap a tube in there. Guess what, 4 bikers, 8 tires, and only 1 spare tube ! I handed over my tube, with the caveat that I wanted it back if I needed it. But as soon as I saw it get all slimed with Stans, I knew if we punctured that baby, none of my quick patches would ever stay on.


On the road again, and it was starting to get a bit dark in the deeply forested parts. Finally after 8 miles in, we hit the famous Bob's switchbacks - our last big climb, and then downhill after that to the end. If we were going to get some vert, it would be here. I started first up the winding trail. The switchbacks were well engineered and I was cleaning them. Some of the bits in between were ridiculously steep, but I was determined not to get off the bike. It was amazing, that after 2 long days on the bike, I still felt incredible power, and was making it up stuff that would have given me a hard time after a few days rest. Got to a steepish rocky traverse, and lost it when a boulder appeared in the middle of the trail. Walked for a bit, then back on, and made it up the last few switchies to the top. Behind me I heard a shout from Spence, but didn't want to disturb my rythm and look back. Well, I think I blew my wad on that last climb, and was starting to feel woozy. So chow down on yet more sticky power blocks and gels, and guzzle more stream water that hopefully wouldn't leave me sick in bed for a week. Spence shows up and I see that the sole of his shoe is clipped into his pedal, but the rest of it is no longer attached - complete separation - not a bad time for this to happen I guess, with 5 miles to go and mostly downhill.




The rest of the crew arrives at the top, and it's clear sailing through the rest of the trail. It gets wider and wider as we get closer to the end, finally it's gravelled, then paved, and we're done. Cross the bridge and back to the car, where near-beers are guzzled and 'we did it' pix are taken.


The totals for day #2 : 8.5 hours, 43.5 miles, 4839 vf.

Is that enough riding for a while ? Well, the conensus was that now we should try to do the whole trail in 1 day : 80 miles, ~9000 vf, probably 14 hours of riding... yeah that's doable.

Mosquito Power at Waldo Lake

The day started with no power, as my car refused to start - the battery decided to die that day it would seem. At 7:30 a.m on a Saturday it was hard to find anybody around in the neighborhood to give me a jump start. So I pushed the car over to the corner intersection, hoping to do one of them starts where you coast down a hill and then jam it into gear and kick the engine to life, but that utterly failed. However this landed me directly in front of my neighbour Pat, who had his garage door open and was puttering around inside. He came over with a remote battery starter and got me going. Then drove way faster than usual, hoping to still make the 9 a.m. meeting time at Willamette Pass with the Sorenson clan. And I actually got there with 5 min to spare. There was some downhill race going on the next day, and a few racers of that ilk were messing around with their massive heavy bikes, clad in heavy armor, ready to do some practice runs. In the mean time, I pulled on my bright yellow team spandex attire, and tried to look tough.



The Sorenson's showed up, and presently we set forth on our expedition - a long ride that Walt had devised, which had us climbing up to the back of the ski mountain, descending via Maiden Peak, then climbing up the Gold Bridge trail to Waldo Lake. Then circumnavigating the lake, whereupon we would climb up the Fuji Mountain Trail, and then enjoy an awesome mega-vert descent.



We had lunch at Waldo Lake, and the mosquitoes were relatively tame. There are many legends of brave souls driven from the Lake by hungry hordes of the bloodsuckers, but it appeared that time had passed for this year. We continued around the Lake and at the opposite end decided to try a shortcut that would shave an hour or so off our journey - this seemed prudent, seeing as how we were at the 5 hour point or so. The trail was 'No Bikes' (hiking only), so we 'carried' or 'walked' our bikes, ever watchful for concealed Park Rangers who might jump out from the trees and write us $200 tickets for violating the rules. The mosquitoe count multiplied rapidly the further we got from the lake, and much swearing and swatting ensued. Soon the steep terrain forced us to actually really walk our bikes, and we were descended on by more and more of the blood-sucking pests. Rational thinking was impossible, and angry swatting the order of the day. After much anguish we arrived at the intersection of the bike trail we were hoping to intercept, but it appeared that the map failed us, and we became hopelessly confused, especially after the next couple of intersections which did not appear as they were on the map. Of course it could be that the goddam bugs prevented our brains from accurately analyzing the data at hand.



At last we seemed to have found our way up to the Mt Fuji Trail, and thereafter were greeted with steep climbs of immense proportions. Finally at the top, we now concluded we had gone the wrong way, and had to backtrack down all that hard-fought but useless elevation. Got on a high speed fun descent that we were 90% sure was right, and finally made it back out to familiar territory. The mosquito bites were ubiquitous and itchy, and several close-up photos were taken.

So what is 'mosquito power' ? Well it's the discovery of untapped reserves of power, when you're grinding up a steep hill in your granny gear, and you're totally spent and want to get off and push, but the knowledge that once you're walking your speed will be decreased such that the hordes of mosquitoes will start devouring you carnivorously at a much higher rate than they already are, so somehow you just stay on the bike and make the climb.

Back at our starting point, a small city has erupted, as masses of downhill racers have accumulated in the parking lot, and pitched their tents in the adjoining wooded areas. Heavy metal music can be heard eminating from several sources, and alcoholic beverages are being hoisted with abandon. Wow what a different world.

What a day - 7.5 hours, 50 miles, 5600 vf of climbing, and 20000 bites.

King of the Mountain

My 9th race in 10 weeks, with this one (Return on the Jedi) being probably my favorite : point-to-point, tons of climbing (4600 vf last year), steep tricky technical descents, and plenty of smooth high-speed single-track railing downhill through old growth.

It's a 4-hour drive towards the coast, but with a great campsite at the race start area, 13 miles up a remote single-lane paved winding road, it's a good candidate for a weekend road trip. Convinced the family to come along, with my 6-year old daughter keen to enjoy her first 'kid's race' - usually a very easy 5 to 10 minute stroll around flat dirt roads, but being only a couple months out of training wheels, could be tough for her.

Arrived there early afternoon Saturday, with plenty of great campspots to choose from. And the camping is free this year - no campsite host, very few services - all part of the downsizing/decomissioning of Forest services all over Oregon (man, they need a new government soon...).

Preride the last section of the course with ChrisS and his sons - the final 1300 ft climb up from the lowest point, and then the high speed Jedi section - seems easy when you're fresh, but that climb pretty much finishes everybody off at the end of the race. I then went back to campsite fun with the family / beer-drinking, while Chris and a few other people rode the prologue loop. Heard some story about a 50-foot stream crossing through 1-2 feet of water - hmm probably an exaggeration. Seemed like they were planning on making the course easier this year anyways (which I wasn't too happy with), as the website said they took out the long hot climb in the sun and replaced it with a shorter one in the shade.

But at the start line at 9am the next day, we got the drill about several big stream crossings - all I got was "Stay to the left!", or else you might find yourself floundering in a few feet of water. Another disappointing turnout, with less than 20 pros and experts. Didn't see anybody from the 'Group of 6' from last week that finished in front of me. But within a few minutes after starting, about 10 of the group had opened a huge gap on me and were out of sight. Caught and passed 1 after 10 minutes or so, but then was alone in the initial loop, with no chasers. Came up on the first big stream crossing, and man they weren't kidding - 50 feet of fast moving water to cross, and it looked deep. Of course this was where the photographer was positioned, hoping for good aqua-carnage. I quickly decided ramming speed was the best option - as opposed to low-gear slow speed line picking - and jammed it right down the middle (staying left didn't look so good), and I made it across unscathed. A few more tamer crossings, and after half an hour was back at the start area, where the climbing fun would begin. Had caught up to SpencerS, and we took turns leading up the climb, which was along an old double-track with a great canopy above it. Excellent temps here in the shade - I noted 58F at one point, much better than the 105F climbing we had in the sun last year (though this year wasn't nearly as hot).

Finally at the top after 1.5 hours, and still no one in sight ahead. Found it hard to believe that the other experts were that much faster (found out later it was mostly Pros in that group). Down some dirt roads, and then the last loose single track climb to the real top of the mountain, whereupon the 2600 vf descent awaits. It starts off with steep rocky ledges, where your seat is rammed into your chest for a long while. Finally passed someone here who was walking his bike down (heard later he injured himself and DNF'd). Then more fun in the trees, out onto the hillside for more rocky switchbacks, then insanely fast single-tracking all the way down to the low-point. Hadn't seen SpencerS since the top, but he caught up to me at the bottom, and we again led up the climb together. Over 2 hours into the race, and now facing the last big daunting climb. Last year was pushing my bike on the steepest spots, walking through poison oak and not giving a shit, feeling like crap. But today feel good and clean the entire climb. Spence has disappeared from sight, and I push hard, knowing there's a good chance he'll catch up. But cross the finish line at 3:13, and no one else shows up for a while. I win my category for the 2nd year in a row - though only 3 were in it. Still, get 2nd Expert overall.

The overall conclusion among the racers is that this is a real mountain biking course - with the most technical terrain and the most climbing. With over 5200 vf and 30+ miles, yep it's probably the toughest. Hmm, I'll have to show them what it's like in B.C. :)