June 12, 2019
Day Three: "Umpqua's Last Resort" RV Park to Fort Klamath, Oregon
Yesterday my plans were foiled by excessive heat. Today it was excessive snow.
I'd gone to bed yesterday at 7:30 and slept soundly, and was up at 3:30 this morning, riding out at 4:00. I was determined to beat the record-breaking heat today.
My headlight and bright blinking red taillight worked well, and there was virtually no traffic on the road up the mountain to worry about anyway. I was starting at an elevation of 1,500 feet, and knew I had to climb to at least 5,000 feet to reach the turn off at Diamond Lake, about 32 miles up the mountain. So, it was going to be a steady climb for the next four or five hours.
The first hour of riding was in complete darkness except for my lights - there were no houses or commercial developments of any kind on the road. Around 5:00 there was a little predawn light, but because I was in a narrow canyon, it was quite a while after that before I could turn off my headlight, even after sunrise officially began.
The scenery was nice but very samey: Trees and river. I quickly realized that if I stopped for even a few seconds, mosquitoes would swarm me. So that added to my motivation to just keep on climbing at 7 miles per hour. Every so often there was a sign listing the elevation - 2,000 feet, then 2,500, then 3,000... Along with the mosquitoes, this motivated to keep moving. Still, it was a pleasant, traffic-free ride.
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At around 4,500 feet I finally saw a pit toilet near the road, so I pulled off to use it. I had to kill several mosquitoes that followed me in there. The permanent eradication of mosquitoes through genetic engineering or some other technology cannot come soon enough for me.
I finally entered Diamond Lake Resort after 4.5 hours of riding. At not even 9:00, it felt like I'd already ridden a full day, which was ironic given what happened later.
The lodge and restaurant were not busy at all, which surprised me. I had a leisurely breakfast of a cheese omelet, hash browns, and toast, then walked to the lodge's information desk to confirm my route to Crater Lake. The lady there told me that the north entrance to Crater Lake was still closed, and was in fact impassable, with several feet of snow covering the road in some locations. I could not believe this could be true at such a late date, and with the record-breaking high temperatures, so I had her call the National Park people to confirm. The news was not good.
The lady and I looked at a wall map, and with a sinking feeling, I realized the implications of the road closure. I would have to make a massive detour around Crater Lake National Park to get back on my route. The detour would eventually get me to the south entrance of the park, adding at least 30 miles, and, I suspected, a lot of extra climbing.
Outside, I spotted a park employee. She was one of the "outdoors" employees, and had the look of someone who knew what was really going on there. I asked her about the road, and she confirmed that there was a lot of snow covering a substantial portion of the road, and that it would almost certainly not be opened until late in the month.
With that, I headed out, and in a few miles got on my detour. I started on OR-230, a state highway with a broad shoulder. Not only was I going the wrong direction - West - but I eventually started a long, steep descent. I gritted my teeth as I realized that I was giving back the elevation that had taken me all morning to gain.
Eventually OR-230 turned south. At least I wasn't giving back any more of the west-to-east miles I'd accomplished the last few days. The shoulder disappeared and the surface became rougher. There was occasional truck traffic, but I was able to deal with it. Once I pulled into a turn-off and talked to a laconic old man standing in front of his RV. When I mentioned that it looked like I was going to miss seeing the world-renowned Crater Lake, he told me that "It's just a hole of water anyway." I'm pretty jaded, but not that jaded.
More trees. I was still in the National Forest, and there were no houses or businesses. My water situation was alright, but I would have liked to have gotten more. I made the turn onto OR-62, where a signed informed me that it was 22 miles to Crater Lake. I could tell from the heat that the elevation was much lower now, which meant that the next 20+ miles would be a non-stop climb.
It was.
The next hours were hot and difficult. It was harder than this morning because it was hotter, and there were almost no flat areas (and definitely no short descents). It felt straight up. There was lots of tourist traffic, but it was mostly cars, and the drivers were mostly polite. It helped that no trucks were allowed on the road into the park.
At one point, hot and low on water, I pulled into a "Sno-Park."I was hoping there would be water there, but there wasn't. I investigated the unlocked structure, which was obviously a place where the snowmobile people hang out during the snow season. There wasn't any water in there - just a very large number of beer bottle caps.
Eventually I started seeing old, dirty snow on the ground next to the road. It was cooler at this higher elevation, but I was down to a half bottle of water. So I was extremely relieved when I reached the park's south entrance sooner than I expected. I guess the 22 miles was all the way to the lake itself. For once, my misunderstanding about distance worked in my favor!
There was a park restaurant at the south entrance, and I sat in there for an hour, eating expensive macaroni and cheese and drinking Sprite and water. I was ready to stop for the day, but the campground behind the restaurant would not be open for two more days, and rooms at the historic lodge, if there were even any available, started at $300 a night! So, I got on the bike for a fast descent fourteen miles to the tiny community of Fort Klamath.
There I had a first-ever experience on a bike tour. I stopped at "Jo's Motel", an old-fashioned mom-and-pop place, where the owner looked me over and, despite the "Vacancy" sign, refused to sell me a room. "Are you riding a bike? Then you can't stay here", she said. I told her I'd lock the bike outside and not bring it into the room, but that wasn't good enough. She pointed at the handlebar bag under my arm, and told me that she didn't want that in the room either! She went on to say that in fact, she did not allow any "outdoorsy" people in her motel. Presumably because we are dirty. Despite my sometimes-deserved reputation as a quick-to-anger hothead, I was more astonished than anything. I laughed in her face, and said, "Well, this is a first!", and walked out. As I left, her husband joined her in the lobby, and they both muttered some unintelligible things at me as I left.
Down the road, I obtained a room at a much nicer mom-and-pop place, the Aspen Inn, where the pleasant woman there confirmed, while using more diplomatic language, that the old couple at "Jo's Motel" were basically nuts. Later, curious, I googled "Jo's Motel". Some of the negative reviews are amusing and/or shocking. In addition to their prejudices against cyclists and hikers, they seem to dislike certain ethnic groups. Also, they are apparently hated by locals in their community because they complained about a display of American flags, and caused it to be removed. It's hard to imagine how they are still in business.
The worst part of this: They own the only grocery store in town, and I certainly wasn't going to give them any of my money. So dinner was a few snacks from my handlebar bag.
Today's ride: 94 miles (151 km)
Total: 231 miles (372 km)
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Good so far though - no flat tires!
4 years ago