It sounded like it would be so much fun! Who wouldn't want to ride their bike 400 miles around Oregon for a week? I did realize that it would be camping every night, but was assured by my partner in crime Theresa that camping was a piece of cake, and besides, not like this was real camping! We were signing up for the "Tent and Porter" service so that somebody else set up and took down our tent each day! And moved our bags. And cooked our meals. And there was yoga, massages, live music, bike mechanics, etc. In fact, before departing Boulder, my friend Janeen dubbed this "glamour camping" or "glamping" for short. So after purchasing a queen size air mattress for our tent, I was feeling optimistic that I could handle this camping thing.
Ha ha ha ha ha.
This was hell. For some reason when I signed up, I didn't quite process exactly what riding and camping with 2,000 other people would entail. "Tent City" quickly became referred to as the "Tent Slums." The tents were literally 2 inches apart from one another (see picture). You could hear people snoring, puking, farting, talking, etc. Got to love the neighbors who felt compelled to get up before 5am each and every morning and hold conversation at full volume, often about their recent visit to the porta potty. It was nothing but porta potties for a week. A week!!!!! Ugh. I can't believe that didn't dawn on me before day 1. Every where we went, we stood in line. For porta potties (see picture), for food (see picture) for bike mechanics, etc.
The biking was ok. Despite some chafing issues on day 1-2, I managed to survive the rest of the week. The scenery was beautiful at times, punctuated by multi-mile stretches on the shoulder of the interstate getting passed by semi-trucks going over 70 mph and stretches of unpaved road.
On day 1, I really was trying to figure out how to get a taxi 68 miles back from Yreka, CA to the start in Medford. I figured I could get the rental car and come pick my bike and bag up, and maybe even figure out how to get home in time to race at Savageman the following weekend. But no, I thought, maybe day 2 will be better. Mentally, I bottomed out day 2-3. I suppose after that I had resigned myself to it, and started to feel like I was making progress toward the end of the ride.
By day 5, we finally arrived in the town of Grants Pass. The first town with restaurants. Woo hoo! The stomach flu had broken out in camp by then so Theresa and I decided to eat every meal from then on in restaurants. And also so that we could use the bathrooms. I've never been so happy for restaurant bathrooms in my life!
Day 6 was an optional riding day (no thank you!) and Theresa and opted for rafting on the Rogue River instead. Definitely the better choice!
There were some highlights throughout the week, good scenery and exceptionally nice local people and volunteers in each town. The purpose of the ride is to raise money for community development projects in rural towns in OR (and on this trip in CA) and it was nice to feel part of a positive mission.
The week finally ended, and we were never so happy to first - hit a hotel, with real beds and real bathrooms, and next to make it home. I have never been so glad for a trip to be over in my entire life.
1 comment:
You described my image of some level of Dante’s Hell. I am sending your write up to all of my friends that keep trying to talk me into camping. Its fun they say. They need to see that tent ghetto and the halftime line at the Portas.
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