The following morning we finally managed to find our way out of the forest, but not before two more unsuccessful attempts on unmaintained roads, blocked by snow. By the time we found a road out past Timothy Lake, our priorities were changing. The imposing view of Mt Hood was overshadowed by the rumbling in our stomachs while riding in frigid temperatures. The desire for warmth and breakfast was realized in a settlement oddly named Government Camp, situated at the base of the mountain. We also took the opportunity to ride up to the historic mid-mountain Timberline Lodge and briefly considered whether we should join the skiers there on the slopes.
It was cold enough that we had to pull out our heated gear and admit that aside from the main plowed road, the forest roads were all snowed in. We headed up to the Washington border and along the scenic Columbia River canyon to Mosko Moto’s Bates mototel. We hoped to meet other travelers, but alas, it was not to be. There was a tea party in the communal tent, with a guest list of two, which was enough.
The next morning Pete from Mosko dropped by to say hi, and we headed to town to check out their showroom. There we chatted with Jason and got a few tips about where to ride in eastern Oregon. It sounded like a fun detour, which we put on the back burner while we made our way to Portland to refresh, and get some basics taken care of, like laundry, fresh tires and replacement bolts. We also decided that we should get the suspensions on our bikes serviced. Both forks and shock were leaking a little bit, the rubber bump stop was noticeably damaged and it has been a few years since we last serviced it. Among several possibilities, we chose to order the service kits from Go Race, who originally set up our suspensions, and have them shipped to a shop near Portland. While the parts were on the way, the plan was to check out the high desert of eastern Oregon, and whatever else we’d have time for. In the hectic planning of this maneuver we did not think of ensuring the parts got sent using priority shipping, so we likely had about a week to circle around.
One of our nights in Portland was spent camping in the backyard of another rider, Josh, who had a small house in one of the pretty residential neighborhoods of the city. Full of flowers and parks, the area was beautiful. We thoroughly enjoyed going for an evening ride with Josh to the surrounding hills offering amazing vantage points to take in city views.
We went to sleep to the sounds of shouting on the street, screeching tires of drivers racing down otherwise empty streets and woke up to the noisy garbage collector passing by. The exposure to the urban hustle and bustle felt so distinct from the usual serene camping experience. There are so many homeless people in this city, not specifically in this manicured neighborhood, but in parts that likely feel even more exposed and vulnerable. The big difference is that for us, it is not a choice made out of the same kind of desperation. The main reason I stay with fellow riders who offer me their space is not the cost savings, but the chance to connect with people who may be able to understand my wanderlust in ways that most people would not. Most people think what I’m doing is very weird, even if a little fun. It is so refreshing to spend time with others who get it, and who also don’t happen to be my partner. We get to get out of our little bubble, but in a way that’s pretty much guaranteed to be welcoming and positive.
This is also the point where I might start thinking about philosophical things like what makes a person participate in a society, and to what extent. Do they “owe” it to anyone, if even to themselves? How do you deal with the fact that some people can do so much more than others? And even those who can’t give as much, whether temporarily or permanently, they still deserve to be recognized as human, but what exactly does that entail? And those who can give more, do they have a moral obligation to go beyond whatever is necessary to receive enough in return to survive on? I share these thoughts with Alex while we walk around Portland, on the way to a hipster tea house, which, by the way, was a total disappointment. The irony of me riding my high horse, in my boots that have an extra inch added to make dealing with the high horse easier, it’s not lost on me.
