A Wet Weekend of Bikepacking: Oregon Microadventures

“This is what it means to be an adventurer in our day: to give up creature comforts of the mind, to realize possibilities of imagination. Because everything around us says no you cannot do this, you cannot live without that, nothing is useful unless it’s in service to money, to gain, to stability. The adventurer gives in to tides of chaos, trusts the world to support her – and in doing so turns her back on the fear and obedience she has been taught. She rejects the indoctrination of impossibility. My adventure is a struggle for freedom.”

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Last weekend Kevin and I set out on an impromptu “bikepacking” trip, which in short is cycle touring on unridable paths which involve a lot of pushing or carrying. In this case, after a beautifully sunny day riding on the beach and the highway, we camped at the top of a large hill (Tillamock Head for those of you in the region) overlooking the ocean (and the jumping wales down below) before pushing and carrying our bikes up and down an extremely muddy 7km path.

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Bringing Cycle Tourists Home

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We finally got to host our first cycle tourists this weekend! On Sunday around six pm I looked out my window and saw two fully loaded cycle tourists down a few blocks just off the main road. Though I felt like a bit of a creep, I kept checking back every few minutes to see if they were still there and after my tenth or so time sneaking a look I decided to grab my shoes and go meet them. After sprinting down a small path through someone’s backyard I ran across the street before calmly walking over to them with ever intention of politely introducing myself. Instead, all in one fast sentence, I said “hello I cycle tour too, do you need a meal and a place to stay cause I just cooked a lot of food and you should really come stay with me I live right up there I could see you from my window and you are our first cycle tourists to come over and we really want you to stay the night.” It turned out that they were indeed looking for a place to stay so we all started to make our way back to our house, as I was practically bouncing up and down with excitement that finally, after so many years of being invited into other people’s homes, we were the ones taking strangers home to ours.

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Transitioning Back: Checking in From Astoria Oregon

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”

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A huge part of leaving on an extended trip is coming back, but coming back to where you grew up – as the quote above points out – is in no way the same as never leaving. Though we are now back in Oregon, and have moved back to the small town Kevin grew up in, we both see our beautiful state with new eyes and a fresh enthusiasm for living here. One of the biggest reasons we moved back here was to be closer to family, and hanging out with our awesome nieces, having big multigenerational family dinners, and going on weekly camping trips has made the move worth it.

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Dirt Roads and Rushing Rivers: Oregon Microadventures

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Last weekend Kevin and I drove out to north eastern Oregon (to the mouth of the Deschutes then down to Maupin) for an absolutely wonderful 240km loop which gave us back our sense of freedom and simplicity. The second we hopped back onto our loaded bikes everything except the empty country roads ahead seemed to drift away, and we were truly able to feel that blissful sense of exploration and wanderlust once again. Our last few weeks adjusting to life in Oregon have been busy (more about how that’s been in a few days), and Kevin I really needed this small escape back back to a life of eat, pedal, sleep; a life without appointments to keep, people to meet, or apartments to find. We had so missed our bikes and the lifestyle that comes along with them, and this weekend trip did wonders to recharge our happiness batteries.

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