Bull Run / Sandy River Loop – 63 Miles
Last year the only cycling shoes I had were some road shoes two-Euro-sizes-too-big for me (but I got them for free!). I filled the toes with crumpled up napkins or newspaper, and for short rides it was kind of okay. But for anything over 30 miles my feet would go numb and shortly after that my back would start feeling like it was going to explode. I wore these shoes for at least three months. After that I bought a pair of used shoes from City Bikes for $20. These were just slightly too small. Again, I could deal with it for a short time, but was generally pretty unhappy about it towards the end of a ride.
Because of my inability (refusal) to just buy myself a pair of shoes that fit correctly, I was limited to only doing bike rides that I knew would cause me only minimal physical pain. Meanwhile, every single week one ride was posted to our team’s email list: The Bull Run/Sandy River Loop. I knew this ride was far beyond what my shoes would allow, and that made it all the more enticing. Then miraculously, mid-summer, I stumbled across a great cheap pair of shoes on craigslist and forever changed my cycling life. But by that time it was too late, everyone wanted to ride ‘cross bikes, and no one was doing the ride that had evaded me all winter/spring.
But now it is winter again! That mild time of Portland-winter where you think, “Well, I made it to mid-January…maybe this winter won’t be that bad.” And then March arrives and everything is fucking miserable until May. But now it’s pretty great out, so obviously when my friend Mike’s email about doing the Sandy River Loop showed up in my inbox I immediately RSVP’d the affirmative.
We met up on SE 79th/Stark at 2:30. While Mike was getting some coffee, this 91-year-old man came up to me and complimented my spandex (“Purple’s my favorite color”. It’s pink, but whatever) and told me, “you’re a pretty good kid.” And you know what? He was right. This ride was off to a great start.
We took Halsey all the way to The Sandy River. Riding along that highway by the river the sun broke through the trees to our right, and to our left there were a series of small waterfalls. It was surpisingly warm out and we filled our jersey pockets with excess leg and arm warmers. So far, the ride was exceeding even my high expectations.
Now, because I was just following Mike, I’m not really sure where we were at any given piont. If I drew a map there would be a drawing of Troutdale, a long squiggly line with a bunch of little question marks around it, and then a drawing of Boring. But at some point we rode down a huge hill. The view was of tree tops and misty fog and it was truly surreal. By this point I had mentally declared this to be the Best. Ride. Ever.
Soon after descending, we had a long, steep climb. This was pretty fun because it let you enjoy the view while going at a slower pace. We then rolled along through some farmland and then went down another big hill. This was, of course, soon followed by another climb, then another descent, then another climb. Best Ride Ever was changing to Hardest Ride Ever.
By that point I was tired. Not “falling-apart tired” but “okay-Mike-I’ll-just-meet-you-at-the-top tired.” Just as I was starting to wonder why I’d failed to ask how long this ride really was, we pulled into Boring, OR. It’s funny when a place like Boring makes you say, “finally, we’re back in civilization!”
The sun was setting and it suddenly got a lot colder. We put on our extra clothing and headed towards the Springwater. It was pitch black and foggy when we got on the bikepath. We couldn’t see much and adorable miniature bunnies darted back and forth trying to make us accidentally kill them. At one point we had to take a detour around some path construction. I was doubtful that Mike was leading us in the right direction and if we were ever going to make it home. It got colder and I started thinking about our eminent demise, freezing to death just outside of Gresham. Could I use a tire lever to slice open Mike’s corpse so I could sleep in it? Would he be too muscle-y to be a good meal?
Luckily, before I had time to seriously consider these plans, we stopped at a convenience store. The store had a sign on the door that said, “NO PUBLIC RESTROOMS. YOU ARE ON 136TH AND FOSTER. PLEASE DON’T ASK.” Ask about the bathroom? The location? Both? Either way, I now felt close enough to home to cease panicking. Mike soon emerged with a can of Sparks and a handfull of Mike and Ikes. Once we were supercharged with sugar, caffeine, alcohol, and artificial coloring, we finished the last leg of our epic journey.
Then I went and watched Groundhog Day at the Laurelhurst. It was good.
So here’s what you should know:
-This was the more beautiful ride I have done in Oregon.
-It gets dark early in January
-The right size shoes don’t make riding up big hills that much easier
-There are two road blocks towards the end of the ride that you can just walk your bike over (the road goes through)
-The vending machines at the store on 136th/Foster give you a ton of candy for your 25 cents
-If the Groundhog sees his shadow then there will be 6 more weeks of winter
This is an artists rendering of what Dawn’s ride may have looked like:
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