Vanlife - Part one of the Oregon Odyssey

Words: Robert Conroy     Photos: Simon McLaine and Robert Conroy

‘Was that?’ I said as I turned to my travel companion Simon. ‘yeah’ he said, his face expressing a measure of equal amounts fear and excitement. ‘Shit!’ 

I had been awake for something close to 30 hours and only moments ago, a great big hairy mass with pale feet, better known as a bear, had bounded past the far fringe of our headlights. With that I knew I had arrived in the United States of America.

When it comes to mountain biking, Oregon is a state I’ve heard a lot about and seen a lot of. Whether it be via Damian Breach’s images of the Junior downhill team in Bend some years ago, the Editor bugging me with tales of the epic Eugene ‘Rainbow Trail’ or stories of the Ashland Super D from Josh Carlson. Even if at the time I was so young that I had no true idea of where any of these were on a map – the stories stayed with me and I knew it was a mountain bike destination I had to one day get to. With a friend’s upcoming nuptuals, surprisingly in Ashland, the opportunity was ripe to head state side and see what the Pacific Northwest has to offer.

My travel companion came by chance. With flights booked, I was searching for some sort of van for my small cross country adventure, when an image of fellow photographer Simon McLaines’ ‘Van in Progress’ passed through my Instagram feed. He was in the midst of stripping out a Ford Transit, along with putting in a bed, fridge, cooktop and all the essentials for life on the road. A few phone calls for planning, a slight rush to get the van completed and a straight shot drive from Williams Lake, Canada and we were ready to begin our adventure.

EVERYTHING’S BIGGER IN AMERCIA

Leaving the dated acid green carpet of the airport behind, it was out into America and straight into the proclaimed hipster capital of the world, Portland. We headed across town to our first stop off with Yakima to put the finishing touches on the van, it was sensory overload. The age-old phrase, ‘everything is bigger in the USA’ hitting home. The highways lifted off the ground, the multiple large-scale bridges crossing the Willamette River, the monster cars and the scale of the city itself. It was almost too much to take in, post long haul flight.

We arrived at Yakima, a big long white building and former library, stashed full of the latest rack innovations. Yakima were kind enough to help us out with a new rack system and two Front Loaders for our trip south, so bikes could stay on top while we stayed inside.

It was the Friday before the July 4th holiday and everyone was in wind-down mode, they instantly made us feel at home. We had a tour of the prototyping facilities (all of which is in house), we mounted up our racks and observed a little afternoon staff RC car racing before heading on. 

Our time in Portland was limited to the day, so to cap off our time we headed to Alberta St for some food. It’s a long laid back street just out of town featuring various eateries, food carts and shops with a very Surry Hills vibe. Salt and Straw is a must see for their odd blend of flavours, we’re talking ‘Bone marrow and smoked cherries’. 

LET THE ADVENTURE BEGIN

Leaving Portland behind, barely explored, we drove inland along the banks of the Columbia river and onward toward Hood River, our first taste of riding in the USA.  As we head along the highway the river draws nearer on our left and tall almost cliff like hills rise to greet us on our right. We stop off at the famous Multnomah Falls, a state icon and at almost two hundred metres tall a behemoth of falling water. There are people everywhere, I’ve never seen so many people turn out in a National Park in Australia. We leave and trace back a traffic jam almost five kilometres for less than a hundred parking spaces. 

The surrounds change little as we hit the limits of Hood River. Wasting no more time we head straight for the Post Canyon trails in Wygant State Park, it’s a Saturday and the small dusty Hood River trail hub is packed. Using an App called Trailforks, we locate some intermediate trails but mainly aim for the highest point for the longest descent.

The park is designed around two ridgelines and a gully that lies in-between. The climbing is abrupt and steep as we head up an easy trail, I’m left gasping for breath as Simon races ahead. With no guide, we glance over Trailforks every chance we get, taking a gamble on cool names and a direction pushing us ever higher. 

Old pine forest surrounds us, the trails are dry and grow more and more technical as we descend. With the dusty surface, I’m glad to have powerful brakes, nearly coming a cropper a few times on the unfamiliar terrain. Out into the open we spring onto an intermediate flow line, table top jumps are taken at speed to descend along the ridgeline back to the van. After a quick drink, we cut some laps of the trail adjacent to the road. We chase cars and dodge hidden rocks before calling it a day.

The sun sets late in this part of the hemisphere and we head down into Hood River and then towards the river. The water is freezing but it’s our best shot at a shower as we get ready for another night on the run. Here we got our first taste of Walmart, a kind of Big W/Target cross Coles/Woolies supermarket. It has everything from fresh fruit, meat and cereal to inflatable beds, makeup and of course shotguns. Loaded up with food, not ammo, we searched for another fire road evening hideaway.

WHOOPDEE DOO

It was mid morning, jetlag had finally caught up with me, we were still in Hood River with at least another hour and a half to even get to the ring road around to the planned days riding at Skibowl MTB park. Rather than waste money on less than half a day of shuttles, we decided to play it by ear. 

The road out of Hood River bypasses Mt Hood. Mt Hood being a beast of a mountain we took it head on and mile by mile is grows ever more spectacular. This wasn’t our first encounter, we had seen it in Portland and it had lingered in our windscreens and mirrors on our way to Hood River, so it was good to be getting closer.

Using Trailforks, we hunted down a local loop and hit potluck, the Whoopdee trail. I don’t think I’ve ever made a better decision although it didn’t seem so at first. Diving off the highway with the van, the road quickly turned to dirt and after about 15 minutes, it showed no signs of letting up. Although it was not long after we came across a small dusty car park with a rickety wooden sign but with another car parked up with stickers clearly bike related. We knew we were in the right spot. Relief. 

The Whoopdee trail is a logging company owned and maintained trail. The local club help to support and direct its flow and course. Kitted up, we headed for the trailhead and dropped in. The basic layout of the trail meant we stayed high on the ridge for the first half before diving into the valley, cruising its floor and climbing back to the carpark.

The trail opened with flowing turns, rolling jumps and hard packed trail, weaving and carving through young growth pine forest. The trail rolled out ahead of us, ebbing back and forth until it comes out onto the open ridgeline. Behind us, Mt Adams (we think) in Washington State emerged on the horizon and we descended down the face of the ridge, surfing, carving through berms.

After a brief section in loamy pine forest, the trail cuts off and we are redirected past the current logging site. In truth we made a wrong turn and ended up with a bit of bush bashing, away from some very fresh tracks. Trailforks was a lifesaver, helping us redirect to the trailhead.

Undulating, the trail flowed across the pine forest floor, spitting us into a hairpin at the cul de sac of the two ridgelines. Directing us on a path half way down the hill, it galloped toward the valley floor. Left, right, over stumps and into chutes it spat us forward. Rained out ruts gave us plenty to think about with line choice and it was one of the best loop trails I’ve ever ridden. At the bottom of the valley we stopped and rested for the climb we knew was to come. Thankfully the climb was well paced and gave plenty of time to look out at the spectacular view. Finishing up at the carpark, we were glad to finally ride a trail with an ambitious name that more than lived up to the hype. 

Hopping back on the road we set off again, going headlong toward Mount Hood. Skirting the edge, until it could grow no larger in our windows, before heading south east towards Bend. The terrain changed fast, with the pine forests ending in farmland, before changing once again to an arid alpine vista. The towns we passed were beautifully highlighted by the setting sun, with magic golden rays falling into canyons and over rocky outcrops. As darkness descended we made camp in the small town of Madras, before the final trek to Bend the next day.

Part two of Vanlife will be in Issue #159, February 2017