Matthew Jarvis's first bicycle touring adventure from Eugene, Oregon to Alsea Falls, Oregon, USA

Matthew Jarvis recently submitted this story to Bicycle Touring 101 about his first bicycle touring adventure.

Matthew during his first bicycle tour.
Click to enlarge.

Having trashed my legs in a climbing accident 5 years ago, cycling has been my salvation and long distance touring is where I want to be. A woman is doing a tour that is coming thru Eugene on her way south and I hope to ride a few days with her, so wanted to get some practical experience before committing to the open road.

In order to test out my self, my bike and my gear, I wanted to do my first overnight tour relatively close to home, somewhere along the lines of 35-50 miles. Of all the choices I had, I decided to take a stab at the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) campground called Alsea Falls, Oregon.

I've been there before, several years ago, and I had talked a buddy who was with me that time to meet me there while I rode out on my bike. He would bring all of the heavy stuff like ice and beer along with his load of conveniences just to make the weekend nicer. I brought all the gear that I would "need" to have if I were on my own, I just wanted to use his bigger stuff since there were two of us.

Originally planned as just a Saturday overnighter, I figured that leaving Friday would give us a good chance at a campsite, and it was raining that day so I was hoping that people would be staying home. As I stood next to my bike, dressed for the ride, bike fully loaded and prepped, I called my buddy and said we're going.

When I left town around 2:45 Friday it was raining rather hard and some wind gusts. I tried to convince myself that it was a good omen, so off I went.

My route took me north through Junction City, then bypassing Hwy 99 as much as possible until just south of Monroe. Very nice leaving out River Road, north thru Junction City on Oakela, west out Cox Butte Road to Washburn, north to Hulbert Lake Road, to Hwy 99 about 2 miles south of Monroe. Up to this point (except the part of River Road in Eugene) it was incredible, the rain had mostly subsided though I had some really strong headwinds.

The stretch along 99 to Monroe was really scary. No shoulder. Although light traffic it was just an ugly place to be. Our old climbing mantra was 'there is safety in speed', so I tried to just press through this ugliness as quick as possible. Not fun.

About a quarter mile north of Monroe I took Alpine Cutoff Road out to Alpine Road proper and proceed the 5 or so miles to the thriving metropolis of Alpine, population about 50. The bar was open but the store was closed - bummer. I had wanted to restock my water bottles and grab some Gatorade, but didn't feel like trying to do so at the local tavern. I took a 10 minute break with some trail mix and water, then off I went - the sign said 9 miles to the campground.

At this point, I should mention that my friend and I have been having an on going discussion about whether or not there was a big hill between Alpine and the campground. My mapping software said there was, but neither of us had any recollection at all of there being any large hills out there. I thought I had made an errant squiggly line or something and the software was just plain wrong.

Mental note: trust the mapping software !!

There is a hill there. Oh-my-god-there-is-a-hill-there!

A mile or two out of Alpine the road starts to climb up into the coast range - according to the now-trusted software it's approx 1100' in about 2.5 miles - or close to 10.5% grade. As I saw it coming I said to myself 'uh-oh - here we go' and managed a few hundred yards, then decided to just bail and walk the bike up. I neglected to activate the altimeter on my watch - an oversight I would regret later.

So I started pushing my bike up the hill.. and pushed.. and pushed. a panel van drives by, I wave, no response. I push and push... then about 20 minutes later the van starts coming back down the hill and going slow as though he's not sure of his brakes or something, but it turns out he wants to chat. As I stood there, dressed in cycling shorts and my bright yellow Burley jacket, holding onto a touring bike with a Bob trailer, not a house in since-forever, sweat pouring off my body as I tortured myself going up that hill - this Einstein asks me "Hey - are you from around here? Where is Foster Road" Instead of telling him to go to hell or saying "I'll show you - it's up the hill - can I load up my bike????" I told him I thought it was back towards Alpine a few miles, and off he went..

Something I'd never done a lot of before was walk around in my clipless shoes (Nike ACG) - great shoes on a bike, lousy shoes walking uphill.. My heels started to blister up and just got worse and worse with each step I took.

I huffed and puffed my way up to the top, found a spot to have a heart attack and die, and rested for a few minutes. I was now down to about half a bottle of water so the place better be close.

I zipped up my jacket and started down the other side of this thing - according to the software I was going to drop close to 600' before the campground. It's a beautiful road, tree lined, winding, my problem was when I took a break I was too tired to realize that due to clouds, trees etc it was pretty darned dark on the road now, plus it was wet, covered in pine needles in places (usually the corners), and I am at the limits of my physical endurance. I had neglected to swap out my dark lenses for the clear ones, and that was one adrenaline filled ride down. I kept my speed below 22 or so since this was the first time going down anything big or fast with the trailer, and I couldn't see squat in front of me. Common sense would have been to put on the right eyewear, but I was too far gone at that point.

Mental note: when feeling rushed and tired, that's a perfect time for a payday candy bar and a break. I should have known better.

I careened down the other side, passing a small camping symbol tacked to a tree. I kept going and going, a white knuckled descent that I could barely see.. I killed a chipmunk (sorry about that little fella) and then realized that I didn't remember much of any descent or distance to speak of on the mapping software before coming to the campground. Oh. my.. God - I MISSED IT!

I thought, I'd have to schlep my sorry butt back up the hill almost as far as before!!!. Although traffic was extremely sparse, I figured I'd keep going down until it leveled out and try and get a ride back up if need be.. Sure enough, another mile or so and I saw a sign - Alsea Falls - 2 miles.. Thank You God!

What a wonderful stretch of road as you approach the campground. I arrived at the campground around 6:30pm (it had taken me an hour to get up that hill) and looked for my friend who should be there setting up camp. He's nowhere to be found and all the campsites are full.. Uh-oh. Sure I had the gear to set up camp if need be, but that doesn't mean I want to spend the waning hours of daylight doing so.

I spied a young couple with a couple mtn bikes on the roof of their car and asked if I could hang out with them until my friend showed up. I explained the situation and the young woman mentioned that the folks in the next site over were in a group camp, there weren't that many people in the group, and there was all sorts of room over there. She went over and talked to the woman in charge, next thing I know I'm being invited into their camp. (As I found out thru the weekend, about 1/3 of the people there had seen me pushing my bike up the hill as they passed me on the way to the campground)..

My buddy finally arrives, we set up a mini camp and enjoy some sandwiches as it got dark. Then we joined our hosts at the campfire and listened to the two teenage boys be teenage boys for the evening. were we all that obnoxious at that age?

The next morning it turned out that a site had opened up and we jumped on it. We thanked our hosts for their generosity and moved our camp over to the new digs. Saturday consisted of food, the campfire and beer - for about 14 hours..

If I hadn't had such nasty blisters on my feet I would have bitten the bullet and walked back up and over the hill - after all, it was only 600' this time instead of 1100'. But in addition to that issue I was nervous about returning along my original route and going back down that short portion of Hwy 99 - it really twigged me out so I really wanted to avoid it if possible. Luckily my buddy was kind enough to give me and my gear a ride back down to where Hulbert Lake Rd meets Hwy 99, and so I had a rather short (20 mile) but pleasant ride back to Eugene in about 90 degree temps. The entire trip was 59.5 miles..

Lessons learned:

Re-think how I pack the Bob Dry Sack. Yes it's really huge, but the only way to seal it is fold the top two flaps over and buckle them down. Turns out this eats up a lot of space you think you may have with that huge bag. As an ex-climber, my gear doesn't get much smaller or lighter, so something's gotta go or figure out how much to lash onto the outside. it'll take a while to ponder this one.

Next time I have to climb a really big hill, take the time to swap shoes for the Tevas and be sure to keep them handy in case I need to do so.

I knew having too much weight in the handle bar bag caused problems, but that 1 liter platypus I stuck in there before the ride was a real PITA. When I drained it into the first water bottle I polished off things improved dramatically. Next time, just carry the thing lashed to the trailer or in the rack trunk - keep that handlebar bag as light as possible.

Submitted by Matthew Jarvis

I really enjoyed reading Matthew's touring adventure. Sure, he had some interesting times climbing hills and learning what works for him but at the end I think it's clear that this was very much a fun adventure for him.

If you would like to share the story of your first bicycle touring adventure please drop me an email using the Contact Us link at the top and bottom of most pages.

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