Day Three - Silver Creek to Salt Marsh
It rained in the night, presaging what our day was going to be like, and it took us a bit longer to get ready as we had to shake out everything, and separate things to keep our bedding and other dry goods dry.
Our ride today was taking us to the town of Silver Lake, where we planned on stopping at a cafe for breakfast, and then through Fort Rock and on to the Salt Marsh campground.
The first part of the ride was on pavement and after an initial climb out of a valley, we mostly went downhill to Silver Lake. James clocked himself at 40mph, and I blew by him with my big 3-inch Chupacabra tires screaming as the knobbies danced on the pavement. That was such a rush. Clear, clean, dry asphalt after 120 miles of gravel. Downhill, no less.
I normally skip breakfast as I don’t like to ride on a full stomach. I figure that I can burn fat for the first couple of hours until I get really empty, and then I’ll snack for lunch. But not today. I had biscuits and gravy (they were supposed to be amazing and they were quite good) and a piece of cheesecake to go. And I felt like a slug when we took off again.
We took a left at the pioneer cemetery and headed up a gravel road towards Fort Rock.
The sky began blue and fresh and soon turned a bit interesting. I enjoy a big sky and the shapes and movements of the clouds entertained me for a while.
And then it got really dark and stormy as we neared Fort Rock. I was hoping that I’d make it there before a squall came through and soaked us. Then the lightening started. I was pretty exposed, and because I was so damn fat from breakfast, I fell pretty far behind everyone. But like the rest of the ride, if you just keep pedaling, you’ll eventually arrive.
I got to the Fort Rock Saloon as the first raindrops fell on me. So far I was able to go without my rain jacket on. That’s great, because it doesn’t breathe and though it keeps out the rain, you still get wet from prespiration.
I didn’t eat lunch at the Saloon as I was still processing breakfast. I had a cider and water. Lots of water. We rested and chatted and talked about our remaining ride today.
When the weather broke, we took off North on gravel roads through lodgepole pine forests.
After ten or so miles, that soon turned into red volcanic dust. And then it started raining hard. And we discovered what they meant by the red sauce.
This part of the ride was the most difficult. I was able to mostly float over the sauce, but Dave and James sank in and it was hard pedaling for them.
In a rare event, I arrived first at camp. Only there wasn’t a sign. Or a campground. Or any cover or pit toilet or anything other than fire rings. Evidently some rowdy off-roaders tore everything down the previous year. Fortunately an older gent in a Camper assured us that we were in the right spot. He offered us firewood.
I stood around, under pine boughs, trying to get some shelter from the rain, but there was none. And then I got shivery, crampy cold; the kind where your back muscles spasm to keep you upright and vascular. I was also a bit hangry, and so I ate some tuna or a bar or something as we got a fire going to warm up. Finally, the rain stopped and we were able to change into dry clothes.
Being warm was wonderful. Being dry and warm was even better than wonderful. Sleeping that night in a dry, warm bag was probably best of all.
