Oregon’s Big Country 2022: Part 3 - Irena’s Adventure
Written by Irena
I continued on the route towards Trout Creek Mountain Peak at over 8000 ft. I was determined not to be cold tonight and therefore not to camp high. Just 10 miles past Willow Creek, at 6500 ft, I decided on a camping spot next to a dead tree. If I can’t have a picnic table, a tree is a wonderful prop to lean my bike. It makes unpacking and packing the bike much easier.
Raindrops threatened me a few times. The tent fluttered in the wind. I hovered over the stove, stirring my instant rice dish with package chicken. I ate it in my tent. It was peaceful and quiet when the wind died down. I listened to the birds singing and enjoyed beautiful views under the changing evening light. It felt so remote and alone yet safe and calm. It didn’t get dark until close to 9 pm which is a lot of daylight considering I stopped biking at around 5:30 pm.
Last night’s wind demanded earplugs which I put in sometime around midnight but the morning was still. I had a quiet and calm tent take-down and bike pack up. It’s all second nature to me and every piece of equipment goes exactly in the same place on the bike or in the tent overnight.
The road that I was on does not get used much but it was a rideable road except for the steep push-a-bike section. It was a slow 10 miles to get to the top of Troy Creek Mountain peak and then undulating terrain with two more smaller climbs. The mountains around had flat tops with neat rock features. I got excited when I saw a beautiful herd of horses, thinking that they may be wild but when I got closer, I could see that they were clearly not. Patches of snow were scattered on the hills but only one short one for me to walk through. I made my way through cattle gates and took pictures of the weather station. The winding road down was steep and followed the creek until the crossing provided an ice bath for my bare feet. I stopped to filter water and top off all my bottles.
The ground squirrels or maybe badgers dug up good sized holes in the road and I had to be careful on my descent. I could see up ahead, the long straight road, for miles and miles. I love this kind of a non-technical descent when I can enjoy the scenery as opposed to keeping my eyes on avoiding the loose rocks and other obstacles. Pronghorns ran across my path to rejoin their herd of 20… I counted.
Once I bottomed out on the road and made the turn towards Denio, on a nice wide gravel road, I was met with a brutal headwind in 90 degree heat. The next 18 miles towards Denio were slow. A late 3 pm lunch of burger and fries, coke and Gatorade and three cheese sticks tasted amazing! I got some snacks and a tube of Pringles for the road, connected to their WIFI, which was only the second time that I had any kind of a cell service on this trip, and topped off water.
With the tube of Pringles strapped to the top of my seat bag, I didn’t have far to go. 9 miles of pavement with a nasty headwind towards Bog Hot Springs. A few miles on a wide dirt road and the two camper trailers gave the hot spring location away. A nice older couple gave me all the details about the best places to soak. As I chatted with them, I carefully assessed whether they could be trusted or would they fall more in the category of serial killers. They were lovely and even brought over some water later in the evening. Definitely not serial killers.
A hot stream with hot pools made for a delightful soak. This was my favorite hot spring yet!
Wind was still blowing which made for a careful campsite selection amongst the sagebrush. This trip seems to be all about riding and camping among the sagebrush. The wind howled and I knew that I would need earplugs tonight.
At some point, the night became very still. Towards the morning, the raindrops hitting my fly woke me. I was not eager to get up knowing that I would need to pack up quickly in the rain. Last night, while unpacking, I almost left my rain jacket in my saddle bag but then thought how dumb it would be if it rained overnight. So it did. I was careful with the sticky mud among the sagebrush as I packed up and made for a careful escape to the road. I lifted my back wheel and rolled the bike on my front wheel to avoid the mud from getting into my chain. The front wheel and my shoes were coated in mud and required scraping.
I kept my rain pants and rain jacket on for a while but at some point my sweat just soaked me from the inside. I was relieved that the road was all rideable or pushable. There was a strong smell of sagebrush after the recent rain.
26 miles to Virgin Hot Springs and I found humans again. In between my stops, I won’t see a car or a human for 24 hours. But about 15 campers some with tents other with their fifth wheelers and generators going were lurking around. It was warm by this point and windy. I took over a picnic table and pulled out my tent, clothes, and sleeping pad to dry. A few rocks held the tent fly as it fluttered in the wind. I ate lunch and relaxed. An hour and a half later, I was on my way with a dry kit and water bottles full.
It was a maddening 10 miles of paved road without a shoulder, a crazy headwind, and a few campers and trucks not giving me any space as they passed. Cattle trailers pushed a gust of wind and smell to back it up. Never have I been happier to turn onto a gravel road. For a brief reprieve from the wind, I hid behind the Sheldon Wildlife Refuge sign and stared at the map while shoving food into my mouth.
I could see miles and miles of road climbing up and up over the hills in front of me. No humans and no critters, just birds singing. The “Sagebrush Road” sign made me giggle. There is so much sagebrush and endless dirt roads. Every road could be named that.
Catnip Reservoir campground was my destination for the night. The howling wind continued all day long and was exhausting. I saw the reservoir from a distance as I approached and could see there would be no hiding from the wind. No trees, just more sagebrush. I scoped out the shore trying to figure out where to pitch my tent at least somewhat out of the wind. Into the sagebrush I went but not much luck hiding from the wind.
The birds took over the pit toilet and dive bombed me when I got near. They sure didn’t like having me around. I used the tent as a windbreak when I cooked my dinner of precooked rice mix and packaged chicken. Water filtering was slow as my filter had to work extra hard to get the murky water drinkable. I ate dinner in the tent trying to get away from the wind again. So much wind today. I fell asleep listening to the ducks yacking.
The wind dried out the tent from the midnight shower and I was not eager to get going as the wind was howling again. Then I heard the raindrops and I immediately started moving quickly to prevent the tent from getting wet again. Again, I started my day’s ride nice and early wearing my rain pants and rain jacket. I took short detours to check out the abandoned historic ranches. 20 miles of nice hard packed gravel made for pleasant travel. I listened to my audiobook for a change. There were long straight sections between 5000 and 6000 feet of elevation for miles. Two pronghorns appeared to follow me. They would stop every once in a while, and stare at me and then get going again in their fast-moving trot. They made me laugh.
Then shortly after I made one of the few turns, I made eye contact with a horse. Given the length of his mane and tail, I was sure he was wild. He didn’t run off but rather took a dump on a pile of shit that was already there, and then turned around and smelled it for a while before galloping off.
It clearly rained here too because I encountered many marshy sections and deep and wide puddles that required careful crossing. I stopped for lunch hoping to find a spot out of the wind which was constant and exhausting but instead I just hovered close to the ground.
I have spent these last few days in sage land country and I was very excited when I saw some tall evergreen trees in the distance. It was a welcomed change from the sagebrush. Hart Mountain pass was mostly rideable with many muddy sections to hike around. The downhill was glorious and took me quickly into the far end of the Hart Mountain campground. These were developed camping spots, numbered, with fire pits and one camping spot with a picnic table so I nabbed it. There were no other campers there when I first arrived but several showed up by the evening. And then later in the evening, the campground filled up and there appeared to be a mad rush for all the 20 drive up camping spots.
Arriving at the campground around 3 pm felt early and I had only 55 miles remaining to get back to my car. I debated whether to keep going or stay the night. There was no great camping ahead, just pitching a tent among the sagebrush so I stayed. I kept myself occupied soaking in the various hot pools and filtering water. Filtering water is time consuming and I find it an annoying but necessary activity. However, I have really enjoyed the daily hot springs routine on this trip.
I sat at the picnic table and ate my dinner while watching ground squirrels stop in attention and look around. I listened to the creek. When the mosquitoes showed up, I cleaned up my dishes quickly and into the tent I scurried. I inventoried my food, realizing that I have lots of food left over which gives me a nice buffer in case something goes wrong.
The next morning, dew made everything damp. For once, there was no wind, it was a calm morning. Sun rays were shining on my camp site through the trees. I was surprised that there were several other early risers walking their dogs. I was savoring the last morning.
The final leg of this trip was an easy ride on a wide road with lovely gravel through the antelope refuge. There was just one antelope tracking me and staring at me. The road was mostly downhill with only a couple tiny climbs and a fun steep paved last couple miles back into Frenchglen. I waved to the Frenchglen hotel owner, packed up, debriefed with the clerk in the Mercantile store, bought enough caffeine and snacks to keep me awake on the eight-hour drive home.
This route was much more remote than I anticipated and weather (rain, snow, mud, more mud and wind so much wind) played a key role. I only encountered people at the hot springs and in Denio. Otherwise, I was completely alone. When Pat and I compared notes, we realized our trips couldn’t have been more different. The route was completely dry for him, Verizon coverage all the way, barely any wind and no rain. I was lucky not to have too many mosquitoes though and they were bad for him.
The route details on bikepacking.com are very accurate and the water sources were exactly as described and flowing. It’s a beautiful loop with mountains, desert, sage country, hot springs. But come prepared with food, fuel and ready to be self-sufficient. There are limited services and very few people that you’ll encounter. It was an awesome adventure!
Day 1, May 30, 2022: Frenchglen to somewhere on the way to Paddle Meadows Pass, 49 miles
Day 2, June 1, 2022: Paddle Meadows Pass to Alvord Hot Springs, 35.5 miles
Day 3, June 2, 2022: Alvord Hot Springs to on the way to Troy Creek Mountain, 45.3 miles
Day 4, June 3, 2022: Troy Creek Mountain to Bog Hot Springs, 62.4 miles
Day 5, June 4, 2022: Bog Hot Springs to Catnip Reservoir, 54 miles
Day 6, June 5, 2022: Catnip Reservoir to Hart Mountain Hot Springs, 55.7 miles
Day 7, June 6, 2022: Hart Mountain Hot Springs to Frenchglen, 52.3 miles
Thanks to Ride Roslyn for taking care of my bike before and after this trip. I have put my Salsa Fargo through rain, snow, mud, sand, dirt and more mud and not a single mechanical issue!