The Structure of Bicycle Revolutions

          New cycling stuff rocks. I’m always stoked to buy something new for my bike. Often it means that I can explore somewhere I wouldn’t have been able to before. The right tires, bars, saddle and bags for the conditions make it easier to explore terrain that would otherwise be
inaccessible. A lot of times, this takes the form of a specific trip or ride that takes on a meaning of its own. Preparing for the Oregon Outback last spring, every new piece of gear was one puzzle piece of the whole trip fitting into place. A physical token of miles to be ridden, hills to be climbed, mechanical challenges to be fixed and nights to be spent under the stars.

           A new bike is the ultimate embodiment of this sense of possibility. An admission that there is something unexplored, something inaccessible that goes beyond a new set of tires, or wheels, or whatever. In many ways a new bike is a new paradigm; a completely new way of looking at your
environment. Exploration and inspiration become available that were previously unimaginable.

          My paradigm is about to change. A couple weeks ago I put in an order for a Surly Wednesday. The possibilities of a fatbike have been gnawing at me for years. The black space on the map that is sand and snow and “omniterra” as Surly has aptly named all the other challenging terrain that huge tires make accessible has been highlighted by photos and videos of riders sessioning 100’ sand dunes, riding through the Alaskan wilderness, and rolling through snowy landscapes previously reserved for skis and snowshoes.

Fat Forest Fat Biking.

          I have been planning new trips in daydreams from the moment the bike was on its way. Some so unreasonably challenging that they will never see the light of day. Others so mundane that when they inevitably happen when I get on the bike they will pass unnoticed. Both are a product of the type of unreasonable optimism that is not limited by time off, or weather or stretched chains and worn out cassettes. That optimism is the reason I will never leave a bike unchanged, and the reason that I continue to pedal over familiar roads and new landscapes.

The Author enjoying his newly obtained steely steed of satisfaction. Note: The Author realizes his fork is on backwards. He is trying something out.

Continue the stoke through this next video...

The Oregon Outback - 2015

The Oregon Outback - not quite a bikepack trip, more than a gravel ride, and as much an Instagram meet as an "organized" ride. The route is 360+ miles of beautiful and often punishing riding from Klamath Falls to The Columbia River though the semi-wilds of East-central Oregon. It's a hard ride; though, and put me through the wringer last year. I had to abandon after 300 miles when my ankle, hands and ass told me I was done.

This year I set out with Danny and a couple other stalwart companions for a spirited take on a 3-day ride. It would require stamina, teamwork and fortitude. I possess none of these qualities; but was hoping the strength of the group would bestow them upon me. I've ridden with Howard, Danny and Brendan before but never as a group.

After a long afternoon's drive to Klamath Falls, and sorting out our whiskey situation, we dined at The Creamery brewpub, located next to the Maverick motel , our digs for the night. Friday dawned cool and drizzly, and we set off.

Danny and Brendan lead out on the OC&E trail through scenic K Falls.

Ruckus test team rider Johnny and his amigo ride though an old railroad cut during a break in the rain.

Riders below on the OE&E double switchback between K Falls and Sprague River. A minute after this photo was taken the approaching curtain of rain enveloped us for the next hour or so.

The OC&E rail trail has a great roadbed, so it never gets too soggy. However much of the route is now cow pasture, so the top layer of mud is rich in "organic material."

Brendan and Danny felt like taking it a bit easy about 70 miles in, so I hustled to meet up with Howard who was ahead somewhere. We met and rode to the Cowboy Dinner Tree, where we dined heartily with Scott from Seattle. After dinner we rolled another 25 miles or so in the dark until we were exhausted. We ducked under a barbed wire fence at the top of the hill between Fort Rock and Silver Lake and made camp. It rained steadily though the night and we broke camp under cold drizzle.

It was cold, we were trying to catch up to Jason and crew who were rumored to have camped in Fort Rock the prior night, and Howard's gesture encapsulates our pre-coffee feelings about the morning.

We made it to Fort Rock, where water was to be had. Coffee and breakfast were made while sheltering fromt the wind, and we began the day anew. The goal was 120-130 miles to Prineville and beyond.

After rolling up the mellow hill from Fort Rock we entered the Deschutes forest. The infamous "Red Sauce" cinder pit awaited us- or so we thought.

After descending Trout Creek and carefully negotiating the creek crossings, this crew caught up. Jason from Limberlost, Jason from Swift Industries, John and Alex from Seattle and a Matt, a random Aussie crusher in the states for a little vacation. Jason demonstrates the techy line around one of many mud bogs on this section of road.

This crazy dude rode from The Columbia River to Klamath Falls and then back again over the course of 7 days. Custom ti singlespeed, chillin' at 10mph but not stopping. The turtle always wins- he finished before I did even though I'd passed him on a dozen occasions over the course of Saturday and Sunday.

Dawn the next morning saw us break camp with 6 more miles to climb to the summit of the Ochocos. Temps were in the high 30's and my knees let me know it. The morning light in the mountains was enough to take my mind off the pain, and the McKay creek road climb is fairly gentle.

Around 45 miles into the forest, Howard's knee told him there was no way he was going to ride 120 miles that day. We parted ways and I soldiered on to Sand Spring, where I planned a lunch break. The Eugene crew from Rolf wheels and Co-Motion bicycles had the same idea. Also lots of handlebar rolls. I caught their train out of the forest and rode with them for the next day and a half. Good folks, good pace.

Pastoral scenes abounded on the whole route.

Brian- full of smiles and a solid rider. Cruising the first big descent of the day.

After a great ride along the Crooked River we rolled into Prineville. My original plan had been to grab a burger and beer at the brewpub and then roll slowly up into the Ochocos. Team Eugene had other plans, and we had a quick and "Tastee" dinner at this old-school diner in Prineville. We hit the grocery store for supplies and then beat the sunset up McKay Creek road into the mountains.

One of the banner descents on the Outback, and a strong rider to master it. Ethan Stehely(sp?) was the engine that pulled our train of riders most of the time.

After a brutal climb up to Divide Road, we were rewarded with great views as we rolled up and down the top of the ridge before descending to Antelope.

Ethan- the motor.

The (in)famous Shaniko Switchbacks await riders on their way to the ice cream store in Shaniko.

No place to go but forward, Hwy 97 between Grass Valley and Shaniko.

The hills of Wasco county are never not beset by headwinds. I recommend riding with a strong group. If you don't have a group, curl up in a ball and die.

The tears of riders who have gone before may have evaporated, but their track remain.

Riders on the Outback (and the Stampede too) receive the blessing of a 1-mile paved descent near Moro Oregon before heading back into the wind (and uphill).

Heather demonstrates the paradox of the Gordon Ridge climb. Beautiful scenery abounds, but between the headwinds and grade you're too cooked to notice.

Mt. Adams and that magic hour light descending from Gordon Ridge. Not pictured: nuclear gusting headwinds.

So to recap-

Day 1: Rain, Drizzle and a sprinkling. Rode with Danny and Brendan for 60 miles, then jumped up to catch Howard and Scott from Seattle. Made it 115 miles to the Dinner Tree by 6:20 and ate heartily, then warmed up by the fire. It was cold and drizzling again as we left. We rolled to the store in Silverlake and passed up the offer of a dry place to sleep in a barn in favor of another push in the dark to Fort Rock.

Day 2: Didn't make it to Fort Rock the night before, bush camped by some junipers on a sandy hilltop. Rolled to Ft. Rock state park and had breakfast with Howard and Scott. Headed out into the Deschutes forest for 20 miles of surprisingly fast red cinders. Howard dropped behind with knee problems but i caught up with the Eugene bunch from Rolf Prima and Co-Motion. Pacelines abounded in the afternoon and into Prineville and a tasty burger + Coke for dinner. After refueling we rode about 12 miles up into the Ochocos to camp. Had a little fire and drank some whiskey to chase the ibuprofen.

Day 3: Woke up at 5:15 to make a 6am rollout. The goal was to beat the headwinds of Wasco county, but I got a slow start as the cold temps didn't agree with my aching knees. The descent to Trout Creek was cold as well, and I didn't really warm up 'till around 10. Then it got hot as we hit the significant climb to Divide Road / Divide Ridge. Awesome views up there as the ridge rolls along then descends to Antelope, where I refilled a bottle in the park and headed out on the pavement for the looping climb to Shaniko. In Shaniko I ate a double-dip ice cream cone and then rolled out on a paved descent toward Grass Valley on Hwy 97. One bumpkin mooned me from his f350 - super deluxe crew cab diesel as he rolled by but not a minute later an old cowboy in his truck tipped his hat to me as we passed. The Eugene crew caught up and we tackled the remaining 40 or so miles together, which was good as it was nearing 4:30 and the headwinds were picking up. It was tough going, and we were all pretty spent by the time we summited Gordon Ridge. I blasted a descending roller a bit too fast and caught a flat on my tubeless tire (first of the trip) 10 miles from the end of the ride. Everyone was kind enough to wait, and we rode into the Deschutes River State Park around 8:20 pm after three 120 miles / 14 hour days in a row. Now that I know I can do the whole thing in 3 days, I think if (when) I next attempt it I'll roll with more stuff and take more time. There's a lot of beautiful country out there and it is a bit of a shame not to drink it all in slowly.

How Fat is Fat?

Hoo Boy. Custom bikes are rad and all but sometimes things are pretty dialed out of the gate. Take this Salsa Blackborrow 1 we got in for a customer a couple weeks back. 5" tires pack in a good deal more flotation than the comparatively anemic 4" tires on the Surly Pugsley and Salsa Mukluk. Salsa killed it on the parts as well, and the bike offers you options to run it as a singlespeed or internally geared rig, and the fork allows you to swap in a suspension fork without changing the geometry. Dune slaying? Snow Surfing? Riding over the gnarliest of beach cobbles and estuarine mud? This is your rig. We're probably not going to stock this one unless demand overwhelms us but it's pretty darn cool all the same.