The "Problem" With Wanderlust (aka Mental Health Break 2017)

I was thinking the other day about my childhood and how I got to be where I am today... scheming about applying for a scholarship to bikepack the 1700 mile Baja Divide.

I was mail-ordered by a nice American family from South Korea when I was nearly 2 years old.  I don't actually know how old I am because I wasn't born in a hospital and I'm not entirely sure how I ended up at the orphanage in Seoul.  All I know is that I was born in Pusan.  My family struggled sometimes growing up, but I don't think I even realized that until I was older.  Most of my clothes were thrift store finds and vacations were spent running amuck in my neighborhood rather than traveling afar.  I don't ever remember being hungry, but I do remember learning how my mother would throw together meals from the bits and ends in the fridge to make sure we didn't waste any food.  We snuck snacks into the movie theater so we wouldn't have to pay the exorbitant prices.  Family dinner happened every night and was cooked by my mother.  Arby's would have a 5 for $5 deal on roast beef sandwiches and we would bring them home for our family of five instead of going out to eat.  Kids in my neighborhood went to college nearby, married their high school sweethearts, and moved back close to home to be near their parents.  Welcome to middle class midwest America.  Bill Bryson would have loved to do a portrait of our family.

Ermerghaaaaa! So cute. I still look EXACTLY the same.

Somewhere in all that normalcy, I felt out of place... maybe because I was a Korean adoptee in a white community, or maybe because I could sense there was more to life than what media told us we should care about.  Much of my youth was spent exploring the fringes, reading philosophy, drawing, writing depressing poetry, playing chess in coffee shops, and smoking cigarettes.  My mother taught ESL and was more worldly than most in our small Michigan community.  All I knew was I needed to leave and see the world.  So I studied Spanish in high school, got a degree international affairs in college, somehow found myself in law school, and spent most of my time trying to afford plane tickets to anywhere but here.  

My late-20s were a blur of 80 hour work weeks and desperately trying to balance my stark office life by throwing myself over waterfalls in rafts, jumping out of airplanes, dancing salsa until the wee hours of the morning, biking until my legs gave up, and hiking into the middle of nowhere.  

Fast forward to today.  I'm in my mid-30s living in Bend, Oregon having left behind the corporate life to bike the world and otherwise find my place in the mountains and remote corners of the world.  Interestingly, the simple yet rich life I live is possible on my non-profit salary because of skills I learned in my youth... no food left wasted, foraging local fruit and mushrooms, cooking all my meals from scratch, exploring the mountains in my backyard...  I dance the fine line between satiating my "looks good on paper former lawyer" self, my "holy crap how am I not dead outdoors junkie" self, and my relatively new "fist-shaking social activist domestic violence advocate" self.  I will be the first to admit that I lead a privileged life.  Yes, I made decisions that allowed me to live life on my own terms, but I also was raised by a supportive family that instilled a quiet confidence in me that I could do whatever I set my mind to.  I'm not sure they understand why I do what I do, but they trust that it's making me happy and that's all they care about.

So much better than working on weekends...

It's been about three years since I came back from my bike tour across Mexico.  I've settled into my new life in Bend working at my local domestic violence and sexual assault organization as the bilingual advocate.  I don't talk much about my personal experience being a survivor of domestic violence, but lately, I've been realizing that I don't serve this world much if I stay silent.  As a survivor, the most rewarding part of my work is empowering other survivors.  As a recovering attorney, I relish the proactive self-care policy of my non-profit organization.  I only work 35 hours a week and get more vacation than I know what to do with.  Lately, I have been feeling burned out... not by the survivors I work with, but by the systems I have to fight every day and vicarious trauma is a real thing.  I know that I need to press the reset button and have been struggling to figure out what that is, where to do, and when. 

That's when my roommate and good friend Stuart forwarded me the link to the Baja Divide route.  I had this on my radar because I really like to read about the adventures of Lael Wilcox, one of the badass amazing female cyclists out there.  She is truly an inspiration to explore outside the lines.  I didn't actually go to the website until one evening when I was feeling particularly gloomy about the state of human respect and dignity.  Stuart was on a post-bike tour melancholic low.  And then I saw it.  The scholarship.  A free bike, free gear, and $1000 to fund a woman to ride the Baja Divide.  I ran to my room and pulled out my Baja maps and books and that giddy feeling in the pit of my stomach was born.  "Stu!"  I yelled.  "Stuuuuuu."  I showed him the website for the scholarship.  "Dude," he said, "this is you."  After pouring over the website with a few sips of whiskey, we shook on it.  I would apply and if I got it, Stuart would come with me to bike the Baja Divide.

I left these for Stuart to peruse so he couldn't refuse...

It has been far too long since I was this excited about something.  Maybe I had this to a small degree when I was preparing for the Idaho Hot Springs route.  Who knows.  The stars feel like they are aligning.  My boss, who is a like a den mother to our staff, saw the scholarship and said "of course, this is you."  She also already approved two months off for me to do this... just in case.  That's how much confidence she has.  So here's to making this happen!

Days 3 and 4: Lick Creek Summit To Random Summit On Forest Road 400 To Cascade

I woke up early to birds chirping and bright blue skies after a long drooling sleep.  Some people have a hard time sleeping in a tent on the hard ground.  Me?  Out like a baby.  I was excited to get started and into McCall for some real food, so I made a quick breakfast and off I pedaled to finish up the Lick Creek Summit.  As summits go, it wasn't too bad, and I was rewarded with stunning granite rock formations and views at the top.  I was also rewarded with swarming mosquitos so I didn't linger long.

The long beautiful road towards the summit... so glad I decided to wait for the morning to take in these views.

One last look back at the terrain I left behind.

Summit glamour shots.  Brief.  Darn mosquitos.

I relished a long fast easy descent on the other side.  It was chilly, and I stopped twice to warm up my hands and once to put on an additional layer.  These sunny skies are deceiving!

No matter what you have heard about Idaho, there are a few truths to know.  It is quirky, isolated, and beautiful.  There is a charm in its "rough around the edges" residents, some more urbane than others, some more tolerant than others, and some more kind than others.  But I will say this... this day proved to me that there are truly warm and inviting folks here and that it was this day that I fell a little in love with the backwoods of Idaho.  I think I could live here one day when my corner of Bend feels too big.

Mid-morning discovery.  I decided to accept the invite written on two random lawn chairs in the middle of nowhere. 

Taking in peaceful views of the Tyee creek and its wildlife.  No hurry to get to the relatve metropolis of McCall.

Shortly thereafter, I found myself quickly in McCall, the biggest town on my short route for this trip.  Initially, it seemed quiet and bucolic, only to blossom into the realization that all of Boise comes here for the holiday weekend.  McCall has a quiet charm and just enough tourist dollars to bring the good things in life... a great bike shop, a good brewery, and a pretty darn solid food scene.  Coupled with the ability to be in the mountains to ski or mountain bike in 10 minutes, and I'm sold.

Little Payette Lake, aka, the one with fish and nice and quiet and all that good stuff. 

Payette Lake, aka, the one with all the tourists, but at least there was a good coffee shop right there.

I decided to take advantage of a little shade and a bit of manicured grass when a guy carrying a paddleboard for some tourists started chatting me up about my bike and bike tour.  He admired my setup and let me know if I needed anything, I could find him over at the local bike/gear shop Gravity Sports.  I realized that I needed to charge my phone so that I wouldn't risk it dying because I was using Pocket Earth as my offline GPS to make sure I stayed on track.  So I ventured to the bike shop and they let me plug it in the back area where the bike mechanic was working on bikes.  Well, turns out that Aaron, the bike mechanic, is a bikepacking and bike touring enthusiast.  When I say enthusiast, I mean it.  We waxed philosophic about our past bike tours, our bike setups (he had a Troll, too!), and future bike dreams for a while, and then he invited me to stay the night with his family.  Generally, my rule is to always say "yes" to hospitality like this.  This is the stuff that bike tours are made of.

Alas, it was just 11am and I was itching to have some lunch and get back on the road... plus I was trying to get back to Bend for Death Machine 2016 (aka my dorky trivia friends duct tape fireworks to a remote control car and otherwise terrorize the neighborhood kids).  I reluctantly declined and headed out.

I got distracted by the local brewery, which also happens to have delicious food.

It felt good to be on the road... Farm to Market road is one of the prettiest traffic free paved roads I've had the pleasure of biking.  Even in the early afternoon heat, it was easy pedaling even after 2 beers.  My goal was to get to somewhere near the summit of my last climb so I could have a fast east ride back into Cascade where my car was parked.  I found the most beautiful campsite in all the land and watched the sunset.  Life, in these moments, was exactly what I wanted it to be.

Wildflowers were at their peak.

Magic in the historic "town" of Roseberry.  There's a flea market of sorts and some historic sites not too far down the road from McCall that is very popular on the weekends.

Gold Fork hot springs... they cost money and are off grid, but still feel too much like manufactured pools to me.  Lots of kiddos and families, but still a nice break and chance to rinse the grime from the road off.

Sometimes, you set up camp early because you find the perfect campsite.  'Nuff said.

View from inside my tent.  The reason I was inside was because an hour after I set up camp, the flies and bugs came out with a vengeance.  I stuck my earplugs in to dull the sound of the buzzing and finished my book to these amazing views.

Last light from my tent.

I woke up with the sun the next morning.  Because I was so close to Cascade, maybe 30 minutes downhill, I bundled up and hopped on my bike without eating breakfast.  As I often do, I decided I wanted biscuits and gravy and eggs in town, with loads of hot coffee.  It was a chilly morning and I was thoroughly cold by the time I arrived to the local diner.  A couple of cups of coffee later, I waddled off with a full belly to my car.  I left $10 for Kevin at the Alpine Lodge and Motel and I started my long drive home.

A few notes for bike tourists:

• McCall basically has everything you need, including a very competent bike shop.  Seriously, go hang out with the guys at Gravity Sports.  They are some of the nicest folks I've met while bike touring in the U.S.

• There is a ton of camping on both sides of Lick Creek Summit, but I felt like the sites were better prior to the summit.

• Mosquitos are terrible at some times of the year.  Run!  Kidding.  I didn't really use bug spray, I either kept moving or just hid in my tent. 

• I am in love with dirt road touring in Idaho.  You cannot ask for more.  No traffic, gorgeous summits every day (yes, I'm weird, I like summits and climbing and all that jazz), rivers to jump into and to fish in, hot springs to soak off road grit, kind people, grizzly backwoods people, isolated and solitary camping sites all over, and tiny gems of towns in between.  I will be back and often.  Until the next time!

Day 2: Warm Lake To A Few Miles Shy Of Lick Creek Summit

Sometimes it's worth it to do a little bit of strategery while bike touring.  I set up my camp just a few miles from Warm Lake, which from researching this section of the tour, I realized was my last bit of civilization for a while.  I also had read some stellar reviews about the North Shore Lodge and knew they opened for breakfast.  So instead of having powdered coffee and oatmeal in camp, I packed up and made a bee line for breakfast.  There is something magical about finding these gems in the middle of the woods.

There's always time to stop and smell the roses.  I'm a sucker for pretty bodies of water.

The North Shore Lodge did not disappoint... I conquered my huge Spanish omelet and half a pot of coffee.

My breakfast companion.  One of the servers told me she loves her job because this guy gets to come with her every day.  The only place he isn't welcome is in the kitchen.  He was just one of several resident puppies.

Just a few kind words to start my day off right.

With a full belly, a new bottle of sunscreen spray, and an impulse buy of Fritos, I headed out in the morning light feeling pretty darn good.  I took another few minutes to explore the area before heading up the road along the South Fork of the Salmon River.

Neverending glamour shots.

The start of gorgeous traffic free single lane roads...

Poverty summit hiking trail detour.  I learned all about the burn that happened 10 years ago in the area.

One of the reasons Idaho is so special is the abundance of pristine hidden hot springs.  The ACA map for this tour has all of the hot springs marked and short descriptions so you can decide if it's worth hunting that particular hot springs down.  I had decided last year to buy the GPX tracks for something ridiculously cheap like $5 and today, it was worth it.  The GPX tracks show you where each point of interest is, and without it, I would not have found what might be my favorite hot springs of all time.  Mostly because on a busy Fourth of July weekend, it was empty, clean, and just about the perfect temperature... and ideally situated right next to the river.  This hot springs doesn't even have a name, just Mile 16 hot springs.

Between mile markers 15 and 16, there are wooden stairs that descend steeply.  Blink, and you might miss them.  I did and had to turn around and use the GPS to locate the spot.  Once you go down a third of the way, you get this view of the hot springs.

Bliss.  Hot, cold, hot, cold... aaaaaaah.  Also, nekkid.

After tearing myself away from these hot springs, I prepared myself for the long climb up to the Lick Creek Summit.  The afternoon sun gave way to cloudy skies and the grade wasn't very steep in comparison to some others I have climbed in this area.  But soon, the valley become socked in and I felt a few rain drops here and there.  Then... it got a little heavier.  The weather forecast hadn't prepared me for rain so in order to keep light, I hadn't packed rain gear.  I spent another 30 minutes pondering whether or not to throw up my tent or just keep going.

Ominous clouds gathering...

I stopped to check the map and my GPS and after 2 minutes, the mosquitoes were feasting on my legs and any exposed parts.  Choice made.  I decided to set up camp and hide from both the rain and the vicious bites!  Besides, I had brought a book that I have been trying to finish for a few months and this was the perfect opportunity.  It felt good to end the day early and just relax.  I drifted off to sleep fairly early to the pitter pat of raindrops on my tent fly.

A little Bill Bryson to keep things topical.

A few notes for bike tourists:

• The North Shore Lodge at Warm Lake is open year round from breakfast through dinner.  Food is served from 8 am to 8 pm and the store is open until 9 pm.  The bar is also open from 11 am to 2 am. I'm told these hours may change seasonally.  They also have camping and cabins!  The store stocks basic food and supplies, enough to get you to the relative metropolis of McCall.  

• There are a ton of portapotties and disbursed campsites on the road past Warm Lake.  Some folks were literally just pulled over in pullouts and had thrown tents up.  It's worth it to get past the established sites and get a bit further up the climb and camp somewhere closer to the summit.  That said, I found out the next day that all the best disbursed campsites are on the Warm Lake side of the summit, and for whatever reason, not nearly as numerous or nice on the other side.

Day 1: Bend, OR To Cascade, ID To Just Shy Of Warm Lake, ID

Sometimes life hands you unexpected free time and the need to find space to heal from the bumps of life and work.  The Fourth of July weekend in my lovely hometown of Bend, Oregon is notorious for its debauchery and influx of tourists from far and wide.  This was not what my soul needed.  It had been far too long since I unplugged and rebooted.  My solution?  A solo bikepacking tour in the middle of nowhere Idaho.  For those not in the know, Idaho boasts some of the most pristine, isolated, and beautiful forests, mountains, rivers, and hot springs.  Just my kind of escape.

Last year, I biked 70% of the Adventure Cycling Association's Idaho Hot Springs Mountain Bike route with my buddy Ryan.  There was a small section that we skipped because of time and so I decided that I would go back to conquer that section.

Getting fancy with my meals... homemade veggie pho with tuna, complete with dehydrated CSA veggies, dried mushrooms, buckwheat noodles, and siracha packets.

I had a relatively lazy morning in Bend, packed up the car, and drove the 6 hours to Cascade, Idaho from Bend.  I rolled into the Alpine Lodge and Motel, which is where I parked last year.  Kevin, the owner, remembered me from the year before and graciously allowed me to park there again.  Apparently, the Google drone had captured my car there and so my red Honda Fit was forever immortalized as being there.  At least that's what Kevin said.

Plenty of daylight as I start an easy spin on Warm Lake road towards Warm Lake.

Random pretty lake and glamour shot for my sexy steed.

Idaho gets it right.  Also, I enjoy that this is a bike and truck.  Appropriate also for Idaho.

Although I have done the vast majority of travel solo traveling European backpacker style from hostel to hostel on chicken buses from Mexico to Argentina, I haven't done much solo bike touring.  It's a different beast.  You are the captain of your own ship and you might go days without any real interaction with anyone.  Nothing but the thoughts racing in your brain.  I find cycling to be meditative and enjoyed watching the scenery pass by as I soaked in the late afternoon sun.

Long shadows late in the afternoon.

I had intended on camping at the Trail Creek hot springs, but a family with kids was already there.  Luckily, just a mile later were a few dispersed campsites, still empty, despite it being a holiday weekend.

A few notes for bike tourists:

• There is a fresh spring water spigot on the north side of Warm Lake road just a few miles in in just short of the junction with forest road 400.  It doesn't flow fast, but the water is cold and refreshing.

Bikepacking Overnight: Old West Scenic Bikeway (Eastern Oregon)

Traveling by bike is an addiction and one that is best done in the company of good people.  It's hard to find folks that want to explore the world 50 to 70 miles at a time and earn views with sweat and tired quads.  I've been lucky to find enough kindred spirits in that respect to hit the road several times a year.

Summer seemed to come late to Central Oregon this year, so I decided it was time to head east to get some sun and explore a part of Oregon that has eluded me so far.  Also, Memorial Day weekend in Bend is notorious for being overrun with tourists so I was looking to escape far from the madding crowd.  My cycling partner and I opted for roads less traveled and charming small towns with just as charming friendly people.  Friday came upon us and we made our great escape.

Car camping at Priest Hole just past the Painted Hills before the bike tour.

Day 1: Gorgeous sunny skies and views of the Strawberry mountains.  Also, the biggest climb of the trip to earn our views.

Day 1: We found an amazing dispersed campsite along Highway 20 between the two USFS official campsites along the river.  Perfect spot also to chill our happy hour beer that I had carried from the car.

Day 2: Ecosystems change, alpine desert landscapes emerge.

Day 2: Long Creek all but shuts down on Sundays.  The most important places stay open... the gas station, liquor store, and hamburger cart.  Dinner and happy hour!

Day 2: Sunset from camp.

Day 3: We decided to avoid a long cruddy day of riding and rushing back to real life by making a detour via 395.  It was gorgeous and totally worth it.  We even made a friend who followed us for a mile.

Day 3: Brunch in Mt. Vernon.

Day 3: The trivia brochure at the diner in Mt. Vernon told us that this stone building was built for a prized horse named Mt. Vernon to protect it from being stolen by native peoples...

Day 3: We ended our cycling day early and decided to take our time heading back to Bend by stopping at the John Day fossil beds.

Day 3: As always, I find myself upside-down.

A few notes for bike tourists:

• A detailed map, cue sheet, and GPX tracks can be found at http://rideoregonride.com/road-routes/old-west-scenic-bikeway/.  Take a look at the comments for updates, in particular with respect to a section that is scheduled to be chipsealed soon.  There is great information available making this route easy to do wild camping or credit card touring.

• John Day is a great starting point for the bike tour since there is secure parking at the Kam Wah Chung.  The volunteers who work there are incredibly friendly and helpful and it's a great way to start your tour.  I also highly recommend the brewery downtown, 1188 Brewing.  The beer and food are on par with anything you would find in Bend or Portland.

• Take your time on Highway 20.  Seriously.  The most pristine empty roads you will find.

Bikepacking Overnight: McKenzie Pass 3.0

It's official, the start of the bike touring season in Central Oregon kicks off with a car free McKenzie pass overnighter.  I suppose since this is the third year I've done this bike tour, it qualifies to be an every year kind of thing.  It seems like each year it also gets just a little bit better.  Check out the 2015 trip and the 2014 trip for actual ride details.  Really, the only trip details that changed this year was a little shortcut from McKenzie River Drive via the covered bridge directly to Aufderheide Road.

Greig and Ani take in the snowy views at Windy Point.

Approaching the summit!

Summit celebrations!

My sexy Troll.  And a pub beer cooling for my roommate Stu, who zoomed up to meet us at the top.

It was too windy for headstands atop the Dee Wright Observatory.

All my favorite dorks in life.  Greig, Stu, and Ani.

We left the boys at the summit... they went back to Bend, and Ani and I continued on to greener pastures and a stroll to Proxy Falls.

The two of us looking normalish at Proxy Falls.

Happy hour at the McKenzie Bridge General Store.  Organic red quinoa, thai peanut sauce, and other fancy foods can be bought there now.  Good thing the beer fridge is still awesome.

I love bridges!

Cougar reservoir and dam.

Obligatory stop at the hot springs to wash the grit and grime of the road off.

Sneaking into a campground...

Oh wait, don't need no steeenkin' campground, we found this badassed site instead.

Testing the cold waters of the southern fork of the McKenzie.

Misty morning ride back towards the pass.

Obligatory bike touring glamour shot with the Three Sisters.