Debi does The Dalles and Deschutes

Location: Deschutes River State Park, Oregon

About last night... I was camped out on the top bunk snuggled down in my single sleeping bag and freezing my butt off. It was only because I'm was either stubborn or way too lazy to drag my sorry little ass out of the bag to turn on the furnace, but lesson learned - tonight I'm turning the furnace on BEFORE I climb into the sack. Oh, and honey?...the thing I miss about you most is your body heat. Just saying...
The drive today was gorgeous driving in the high desert following along the Cascades. After about 4 or so hours I pulled into The Dalles and poked around the town for a bit. My uncle made me promise to eat at this restaurant called, Cousins, so being the good little niece I am, I checked it out. I even went so far as to scarf down a BLT (hold the mayo) with an "Arnie" on the side. Those of you who know my mom will appreciate that joke. The only thing I didn't appreciate was that when you open the door to leave, these barnyard animals make all these noises. I mean, the BLT wasn't THAT big!
I then headed to Deschutes State Park where the fun (and oh I use that word loosely) really began. (At this point, pour yourself a glass of wine and sit a spell. This could take awhile). The campground is nestled up against the Deschutes River right where it empties into the Columbia River. Quite scenic! It's more of a grassy knoll along the banks of a river than a wooded campground, but it has the added benefit of being at the trailhead of the Deschutes Rail Trail, which is what I was really after. I was quite pleasantly surprised that I was able to get a campsite right on the river, go figure. Life is good! The entire rail trail is 17 miles one way and my goal was to make it to at least the 12 mile marker, thus a 24 mile bike ride, pretty much my limit. Before I left I dutifully paid my campsite fee and decided that since I was doing this rather long and remote bike ride by myself I would let the campground host know where I was headed - just in case. He told me that there was a really cool abandoned farmhouse at mile 12 on the trail. Perfect! Before I left, my campground neighbor struck up a conversation, saw that I was getting geared up for a bike ride and said that his wife walked part of the trail this morning and saw EIGHT rattlesnakes. So he warned me to be extra careful. I began the bike ride with my camelback pouch, cell phone, camera, kleenex (you never know when you gotta go!), light jacket etc. In other words I felt quite prepared. The first mile is straight uphill which was a bit of a challenge in the glaring sun and heat, but I was patting myself on the back because I rode the whole way and didn't walk it. The trail somewhat flattened out after that and for the next several miles I was rewarded with beautiful views of the river. (Of course I kept thinking about those snakes which kinda took the whole zen thing outta of it. Surely he meant A snake on the trail and not Eight snakes on the trail). It was hot, but fun to ride along the river and see how it changed, sometimes flat and sometimes roaring with white water rapids. I was really working up a sweat and was so glad that I had my 70 oz. camelback with me. I passed some interesting things such as abandoned railway cars. (See the pics below). The wind was starting to pick up, but it was at my back so I didn't really notice that I was getting a bit tired. The path is a converted railtrail and basically a lot of loose gravel and quite washboardy. Not the easies thing to ride. I finally made it to mile marker 12 and there was the abandoned farm house!! At first I was just mesmerized by the beauty of this particular spot, seeing this dilapidated old house nestled near the river with a high grass field blowing in the wind. I got off my bike and began to take some pictures and this is the point where everything pretty much went to hell...
As I'm taking the pictures all of a sudden I hear a really eerie sound, like something or someone calling out. It could have been the wind, a crow, who knows, but suddenly everything felt a little too much Blair Witch Projecty for me, if you catch my drift. It suddenly occurred to me that I was 12 miles down this trail, where I saw absolutely nobody the whole time, and I'm standing next to this abandoned building hearing creepy sounds. I also noticed that things had started to get a bit dark, the weather had changed and the skies looked really foreboding. Wow...how quick that came on! Well let's just say my imagination got the better of me and I decided to jump on my bike and high tail it outta there. I knew I had a challenging 12 mile ride back and now I was headed INTO the wind. Mile 11...lightening. I began to count the seconds between the lightening and thunder telling myself that as long as I stayed ahead of it things would be okay. (The gods laughed). By mile 10 I wondered if I was an idiot to be on my bike - isn't it metal? Aren't I the highest point around? So I tried really hard to push on, but the wind was picking up and I was barely pedaling at 9mph. I passed one of the abandoned railway cars and knew by this time I was at mile 8. I was absolutely exhausted, getting cold, a bit scared and wondered how the hell I was going to be able to finish this ride. At mile 7, the first rain drops began and I was still hopeful that I could beat the rain. (The gods were just toying with me at this point). At mile 6, utterly exhausted and now completely drenched, I saw the other abandoned railway car. For a split second, a fleeting moment, a nano-second - I actually thought about getting out of the thunder, lightning, and torrential rain and waiting it out in the abandoned railway car. But then something primal, deep-down going back to cave man time in my brain, screamed at me...are you friggin' kidding me????? In the rain, clothes stuck to me wet and you want to go into an ABANDONED freight car? Does this not have the makings of every stereotypical horror movie ever made? Needless to say, the adrenalin rush got me to the 5 mile marker. At this point, there it was...the rattlesnake in the road - right in the middle of the bike path. Holy Shit! Just when I thought I didn't have it in me to pedal anymore, another adrenalin rush took over and I closed my eyes and pedaled like hell passed that snake. 4 mile marker and the winds are blowing so hard they actually knock me off the ground. I had taken off my glasses because it was raining so hard and I couldn't see thru the rain pelting on my lenses so of course, the first thing that goes thru my mind is great...can't see, howling wind and I'm on the ground with SNAKES! I do a quick body check, at this point so cold I wouldn't know if anything was broken, jump up and pedal like hell. And then an interesting thing happened. I decided that someone was watching over me. I mean, for several miles just when I was completely exhausted and almost ready to give up, something kept happening (albeit something scary as hell), to push me forward. Kinda cool huh? Well, let's just say that zen moment lasted less than a mile before I realized that I was pedaling with all my might and only doing about 4 mph. I knew the biggest challenge was ahead of me, mile 3. That was going to be straight uphill. I remembered there was a stream I rode thru at the bottom of the hill, oh so daintily lifting up my feet as I went threw it on the way down, because I didn't want to get wet. Do you think that was the point that the gods were laughing uncontrollably and said game on? Let's just say that this time I sloshed thru the stream knowing I couldn't possibly be anymore wetter, muddier and filthy dirty than I was. I hit the big hill and pathetically walked my bike up that hill, several times being blown off my feet. Hard to believe, but the storm was getting worse. At this point I tried to calculate how much longer, in minutes or hours this was going to take. But I was tired, cold, miserable and wish I had paid more attention in 5 grade math glass. If one is walking up a hill at 2mph and the winds are blowing at 30 mph. and this dumbass, pathetic middle aged woman has 3 miles to go how long will it take her till she had a glass of wine...you get my drift. I kept telling myself that if I could just made it to mile 1, I would get a free ride downhill to the campground. I finally, finally make it to the top of the hill and the winds are blowing so hard, that I can only get between 3 and 4 mph downhill...pedaling. OMG what do I see, but the campground! Now, at this point I figure that I'm gonna get some kind of hero's welcome. You know, "wow, you made it mile 24 miles in this weather?" "Dang, you are some kind of wonder woman to do that1" (Yes, I realize I'm sharing much too much of my illusions of grandeur, but by now I'm now delusional what can i say!). I get my wet, drowned self to the van and I'm so tired, cold and shaking I can't even get the damn door open. Then, the park ranger and campground host come on over to me. Ahhh, finally the hero's welcome!! "Uh excuse me, who said you can camp here!" "This spot is reserved...move the van, etc." What?! This was my ace in the hole, these gentlemen were my back-up plan to rescue me from horror movies, blinding rain, and feats extraordinaire???? Sigh...let's just say this VERY tall glass of wine and box of crackers have never ever tasted so good. The campground neighbors said earlier they wanted to come on over and check out the van and share a glass of wine. Screw them, wonder woman is going to bed.