Government Camp to Timberline Lodge, Oregon. Saturday, May 11, 2024
How had I not heard of this? A number of people I talked to on the way up said hey, you’re doing Hood to Coast backwards! Turns out it’s the largest relay race in the world, having been run annually since 1982. This movie looks like it might be worth paying the four bucks to rent. https://youtu.be/1m_1Vm666bc?si=WiBK9yXJNS7kPvL9
Yeah, I did it backwards. Started on the coast and ended at Timberline Lodge. Instead of 36 hours, it took me two weeks. Instead of Seaside, Oregon, I touched the ocean in Bellingham, Washington.
Instead of 200, it was 639 miles. Instead of a rolling party, it was just me. Oh yeah, and it was all uphill. 29,436 vertical feet to be exact, higher than Everest!
And if I’m lucky, I’ll finish on the summit, not just at Timberline Lodge. We’ll see.
Today sounded like I was slumming it, just 14 miles, on a bare bike. 7 miles up, 7 miles back down. But those 7 miles were crazy steep, rising 2000 feet. At points the grade exceeded 9%, and I had to walk. I sure hope I get stronger as this trip progresses.
Here is the money shot, my bike by the entrance of the lodge, with its weird metal tunnel to cut through the snow drifts.
Timberline Lodge was the setting for the Overlook Hotel in Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining. Only the exterior shots were used; the inside, and the road leading up to it, were different. But the hotel is proud of its legacy, here’s the receptionist holding up the infamous “Here’s Johnny” axe.
Timberline Lodge is also the center of a ski resort that has the greatest vertical drop in the country, with slopes both above and below. There was a lot of skiing and snowboarding going on today, even with temperatures in the high 60s. It has a parking lot the size of Connecticut, which looked like a tailgating party; lots of shorts-and-sandals-clad hipsters hanging out in beach chairs, blaring music, and drinking beer. I wandered over to Timberline Mountain Guides, in hopes of meeting my assigned guide Laura, but she was not there that day. I will meet her on Tuesday.
Two hours up, 15 minutes down. Plenty of extra time in the day, and I won’t be needing my bike again until Thursday. Time to address my seat problem definitively.
Jane had sent a big box to Timberline, with snowshoes, my mountaineering gear, and my other broken-in Brooks Saddle. Before I mounted it, I got some pictures of my temporary saddle, and the way it’s attached to the seat post.
The attachment looks elegant, but you can see how it pinches the saddle rails in only two spots, focusing a lot of stress there; I suspect this is why the rails broke on the prior seat.
The replacement seat itself looks comfy, heavily padded, with an anatomical cutout to accommodate your nether regions (as my dad used to call them).
But curiously, I prefer my rock-hard Brooks Saddle, just a single sheet of smoothly polished leather—agonizing for the first thousand miles as it breaks itself in to mold perfectly to those aforementioned regions—but then, heaven. Also, much less friction between shorts and saddle as you’re pedaling.
Anyway, I’m concerned that mounting is going to break the rails of this seat too, so I should replace the seat post. The latest technology is something called a dropper post, where you can flick a lever to raise and lower the seat. Designed initially for competitive mountain bikers, who want to keep the center of gravity low on steep descents, it’s been embraced by the geriatric cycling crowd, who drop the seat when stopped. If you can put your feet flat on the ground it’s easier to start pedaling, then pop it back up to ideal height once you get going. Jane and I tried these when we rented electric mountain bikes in New Zealand, and were impressed.
I drove the bike down to George Wilson, owner of Mt Hood Bicycles, where I had stopped yesterday on the way up. He has ordered the dropper post for me, it should arrive early next week and he should have it installed by the time I come down from Hood on Wednesday. As I said, George is a fellow clinician, I was impressed by his meticulous shop. Look how neatly he has all of his tools mounted on that pegboard.
I feel better having my fancy bike in his shop anyway, rather than visible to all in the back of my car.
Tomorrow will be a low-key day, just driving up to spend the one night I do have at Timberline Lodge, and get ready for the big snowshoe on Monday. I’ll explain about that then.
Distance 14 miles, 639 total. Time 3 hours with stops. Elevation gain 2,000 feet
©️ 2024 Scott Luria
The Ends of the Earth 