Owyhee Canyonlands! The Planning... and Re-planning... and Re-re-planning...

I have been dreaming of exploring the Owhyee Canyonlands on two wheels for years, but it always seemed like it was too far away, or the wrong time of year, or I had too many other adventures planned. One of the silver linings of the pandemic is that it has narrowed my wanderings to be closer to home, so when we saw that the amazing folks over at Dirty Freehub had curated an Owhyee bikepacking trip, I knew I had to make it happen this year.

My bike touring partner in crime Ani and I threw some dates on the calendar for mid-May, did some research, created a route based off the Dirty Freehub route, crossed our fingers about the weather, and then patiently waited. In order to avoid the Memorial Day crowds, we took a calculated risk that the route would be snow free given the low snow year. The wild card was the pass near Silver City which sits at over 6000 feet... we had done some research and realized that the hotel and shop in Silver City generally opens Memorial Day weekend each year, and we were going to be over a week early. 

As we got closer to our departure date, we decided to dig deeper and try to get some better intel on what exactly the road conditions might be. Would it be similar to the McKenzie Pass which gets a single lane plowed through and then allowed to melt out? Would we just have a short hike-a-bike? We called the museum/library in Murphy, ID (the county seat of Owhyee county), and the nice employee said they thought it may be possible to pass by bicycle. We tried to call the road department but they only are open Monday - Thursday and well, it was a Friday. We also emailed the Idaho Hotel, and they had the best intel... we were told some ATVs and a few cyclists made it through, but that there was a big snow drift to navigate... less than a football field big. So we decided we would give it a go, and worst case scenario, we would need to turn around.

And then, after one last weather check, we saw that we would only have about 3.5 days of good weather before a massive cold front moved in with rain and snow. Our intel told us we did not want to get stuck in the Owyhee backcountry on wet muddy mucky roads. That it would be that awful clay that well... just don't do it! We had planned our route to be a leisurely 6 days and 5 nights. But even merging our two short days together didn't quite get us there.

Dorky paper map I make for all my bike tours, but sure made it easy to revision our trip...

Sooooo, we saw a cutoff road on the map that ended up being one of the recommended mountain bike rides in the Owhyee Canyonlands guidebook I had bought, and figured out a way to make it more rigorous 4 days and 3 nights. The big wildcard was that we had no idea what creeks would be running off that cutoff road as we had no intel for that section. We just chose a big looking creek (at least big looking from what the gazetteer showed) and made sure it wasn't downstream from one of the many mines that pollute water sources in this area... our backup plan was to carry extra water just in case, with each of us carrying 4 liters!

Here is what our final route looked like! We purposely avoided Jordan Valley due a huge rodeo that weekend and we felt uncomfortable riding through it. 

I still have the Silver City ride on my radar as an out-and-back... another time!

A few notes for bike tourists:

• The best intel on the area is from Dirty Freehub and the Owyhee Canyonlands guidebook. I also created a hard copy map using the Benchmark gazetteer for Idaho, which helps you identify which water sources have mines upstream and where there may be big enough creeks to camp by or filter water from.
• This is remote backcountry that requires folks to be fully self-sufficient and to carry water for an entire day. Our campsite on Day 1 seems like it would run year round, but we can't vouch for that and there were no other safe water sources that day (the only creek running came straight off a mine).
• Chubbier tires are better. Ani did fine on 46s and my 50s also did just fine. All other cyclists we saw were running much bigger or suspension. 
• Be prepared for some fun hike-a-bike! Nothing too crazy, but there are sections that have big chunky loose rock. 

Dang, Utah! The Planning.

Sometimes, things like pandemics and general community trauma lead to irrational thinking... and so at the onset of COVID 19, Ani and I were sure that it would all be over by October, and so we bought super cheap plane tickets to Morocco for a 3-week bike tour. As October grew closer and closer, we had to deal with the reality that it was probably not going to happen. And then it was mid-September, and our flights to Morocco were cancelled. 

If anything, we are resilient. So we pivoted and decided Morocco would happen another time and turned our gaze towards the dirt roads of Utah. We had one relatively unproductive (dang you brandy!) planning session, and then magically, we came together and put together what would become the adventure of a lifetime. 

PRO TIP #1: Gazetteers are my favorite to see vision a bike tour, know what the major attractions, and most of all, know what to Google to see if its worth it. I always piece together a rough version of what I think the tour should be (see yellow highlight), potential detours or Plan B/C/Ds (see pink highlight), and prospective overnights (see blue stickies). It's really just a suggestion until we know what is happening on the ground, but who doesn't love maps?!

And, it never quite goes as planned. While route below was close to what we had originally planned, we made some last minute changes to our route and plans... it's always so important to have just enough flexibility to follow a whim and a fancy! If you want the quick and dirty, the RidewithGPS map I put together is here.

PRO TIP #2: Bikepacking.com was the starting point for our dreaming, but we never let ourselves get stuck in their routes. We used a combination of various blog posts, our imagination, Google, Google images, and the dotted lines in the gazetteer to craft this route... and at the end of the day, opting for the dirt roads was always the right call. More to come!

Day 2: Quito

Despite being exhausted, we dragged ourselves out of bed to make sure we could catch the end of breakfast at our hostel.  Colonial House is a brightly colored quirky three story hostel with tons of hangout nooks, basic kitchen amenities, filtered water, a book exchange, WiFi, a green backyard, hammocks, and pet rabbits that freely roam about.  The vaulted ceilings give it a spacious feeling and the staff was welcoming.  Not only did they let us store our bike boxes for free, but we had a ton of space to rebuild our bikes.  We were also conveniently located at the edge of the touristy old town, but still convenient to all the practical amenities of the new town.

Sunny backyard!  There was also a large covered area in the back as well to protect our bikes from the rain.

Bunnies!  These two lovebirds produced a bunch of baby bunnies while we were gone...

Breakfast was a lovely affair done family style for an additional $3.50, and included real coffee, fresh juice, a tropical fruit salad (fresh cut strawberries, papaya, dragonfruit, and whatever else was around), granola, yogurt, 2 eggs scrambled or fried sunny side up, and fresh bread.

After breakfast, we assessed the contents of our boxes.  Ani had lost one of the wire spokes of her fender and Ed had a much bigger problem.  The cantilever brake boss on his new Surly Long Haul Trucker fork had broken in transit.  He figured out it would still probably mount okay with a longer bolt.  We set out to do a bunch of errands, including getting some washers, nuts and bolts, a fix for Ani's fender (or maybe a new fender), fuel for our camp stoves, and provisions for the first few days of cycling.  About 3 hardware stores, a bike shop, a mountaineering store, a crazy spiral shaped mall, and a few mangled interactions trying to figure out how to say bike parts in Spanish later (fyi, a washer is "arandela plana" in Spanish), it was time to eat.

Shrimp with tons of achiote (aka annato aka the Latin American tumeric)!

On the way back to the hostel, we passed by a park where a guy was welding some sort of metal structure so Ed asked if he might be able to weld his brake boss.  The guy was willing to give it a look, so Ed booked it back to the hostel to grab his bike while Ani and I shopped for food provisions.  I bought some produce from the indigenous women outside the grocery store, and then we stocked up food provisions for the next few days.

Quito has a burgeoning bike infrastructure, including miles of ciclovias and these bike shares!

We all reconvened back at the hostel to finish preparing our gear.  Unfortunately, the brake boss metal wasn't something the guy could weld, so Ed just used a long bolt and hoped for the best.  We finally had everything all ready and so Ed procured us several shots of aguardiente, a cane sugar liquor, and the ubiquitous beer Pilsener to celebrate.  We adopted a young French student named Anaiz and went to dinner where we got an entire roasted chicken, which came with salad, rice, french fries, chicken soup, and juice.  We only managed to eat about half the chicken so we saved the rest for a bike snack for the next day.

Sleep did not come easily.  We were too excited and pouring over the cycling route that Maps.ME had generated to send us on our way towards Cotopaxi National Park.

A few notes for bike tourists:

• We had tried to email the Casa de Ciclistas located in nearby Tumbaco, but got no response.  To be fair, I didn't try very hard to follow up and our super late arrival and short stay before cycling didn't give us much incentive to hunt out this option more.  We had also tried to see about other options through the Biking Dutchman, but this ended up feeling very pricey in comparison to the hostel options in Quito.  We were very pleased with our stay and the hospitality at Colonial House.  They held our boxes for the duration of our trip and were very helpful in arranging transport that would accommodate our huge bike boxes!

• I have a mini Trangia stove which uses denatured alcohol.  In Ecuador, like much of Latin America, it is called "alcohol industrial" and is cheap and widely available.  Ed has an MSR Dragonfly multi-fuel stove and we searched high and low for white gas.  We came across a mountaineering store which sold propane canisters, and the gentleman there told us white gas is basically impossible to find in Ecuador.  So Ed ended up just buying some gasoline on our way out of town (which, according to the guy at the pump, was illegal to sell in other containers, but he did it anyway).

• Supermarkets are great for dry and canned goods, but have pretty awful produce selections.  In retrospect, I would NOT recommend buying the lentils in Ecuador.  They take more than twice as long to cook as quinoa or pasta. 

• If you see coffee being sold out of a big pot, you can guarantee it will have a mouth-puckering amount of sugar in it.  You've been warned.  

• It is always worth emailing or calling a manufacturer about faulty gear.  Ed shot Surly an email about his fork and asked for the burlier Troll fork when he got back to the U.S., and whaddayaknow, they gave him one!

Day 1: Portland To Quito

January passed me by in a whirlwind of agonizingly short dark busy days.  Day after day, it dumped snow and we were reduced to cross county skiing around town.  My bike was banished to the shed.  The trip to Ecuador didn't quite seem real, even as we counted down the days, reviewed gear, tuned up bikes, perused bike touring blogs, and brainstormed routes.  Ani and I scheduled a video chat with Ed that involved a fair amount of whiskey (wait, isn't that what got us here in the first place?) so that we could at least get a rough sketch of where we wanted to go for Ed's two weeks with us.  We had no real agenda other than exploring Cotopaxi National Park and the Quilatoa loop, routes inspired by Cass Gilbert of While Out Riding.  Ani and I would play the last week in Ecuador by ear.  Who knows if we would love the coast or yearn to return to the mountains?

Stu, my roommate and fellow bike touring fanatic, sings the "I'm not going to Ecuador blues" while I finalize this tour's setup.

And then, after a whirlwind of wrapping up loose ends at work and spending some precious last moments with my incredibly understanding boyfriend David, it was time for Ani and me to head to Portland to pack up our bikes!

Bonk prevention gifts from Stu.

We had given ourself a full day in Portland to get ready since we had one of those ungodly pre-dawn flights out of PDX.  Ed made us breakfast burritos to fuel our day.  Good thing because he and Ani spent the better part of a day in Portland sorting through gear, agonizing over last minute bike setup issues, and running last minute errands for gear and supplies.

All packed up!

We got to the airport insanely early in case there were issues with the bike boxes.  United Airlines might be my least favorite airline, but the tickets were so cheap that it was still worth the whopping $200 bike box fee each way.  What was unclear to us from the website was if the weight limit for the bike boxes was 70 pounds or 100 pounds.  While mine came in at 66 pounds (mostly because I opted to take a pannier on as carryon luggage with about 10 pounds of gear), Ed and Ani's boxes were just over 70 pounds.  As Ed approached the counter, we held our breaths.  There was some discussion amongst the front counter folks.  I prepared to lawyer the shit out the policy wording if need be, but ultimately, they didn't charge Ed or Ani anything additional for their boxes being overweight.

With the most stressful part of the day behind us, we settled into a long long long day of travel, including what ended up being a 7 hour layover in Houston.  Trip stoke and being self-entertained go a long way!

Airport acroyoga!  We even taught Ed a little bit.

Ani introduced me to a fun travel bingo game.  Basically, everyone brainstorms 24 things they hope or think they will see on the bike tour.  Then they are numbered and then a bingo card is filled with the numbers 1-24 randomly.  Then we came up with different prizes depending on which row was completed so that the prize would be a surprise.

Making Ecuador bingo over two bottles of wine.

Our 24 bingo squares included:

1. Blue footed boobie
2. Seco de cordero
3. Equator line
4. Live guinea pig
5. Mangroves
6. Cotapaxi
7. Sailboat with a dark hull
8. Stray dog
9. Local cyclist with animal
10. Lightening
11. People playing soccer (futbol)
12. Kids selling stuff
13. Other bike tourist
14. Dugout canoe
15. Hot springs
16. Panama hat (on a person)
17. Stuck vehicle
18. Lighthouse
19. Livestock or other unusual pasajero on bus or pickup truck
20. Panpipe or flute (being played by a person)
21. Ruins
22. Train
23. Red-headed person
24. Naked or swaddled baby

Prizes and completed bingo card... for the record, Ani won with a dubious spotting of a dark hulled sailboat on a version of the Ecuadoran flag.  She won a fancy Valentine's day dinner in Cuenca.

Just some tipsy bike tourists waiting for their flight and taking selfies for unsuspecting boyfriends.

We groggily got to Quito well past midnight and anxiously awaited our bike boxes to come off the conveyer belt... we celebrated as we collected all three boxes.  Ed had arranged an airport transfer with our hostel in advance making sure that they sent a van to accommodate our huge boxes and the three of us.  

A few notes for bike tourists:

• It is worth comparing airplane ticket prices with baggage policies for bikes.  I've paid as much as $200 (stupid United Airlines) to just $75 (yay Jet Blue).  Some European airlines don't charge at all.  There are also different requirements for what the bike must be packed in... United requires a box or hard sided case whereas some European airlines will allow you to just use a clear plastic bike bag. 

• Packing a bike box is fairly easy.  All I had to do was remove the front wheel, handlebar, pedals, rear rack, and one of my water bottle cages on the front fork.  I taped some cardboard around the rear derailleur and just used the rest of my gear to cushion the rest.  

• If you arrive late like we did and do not plan to ride from the airport, it is worth arranging an airport transfer in advance to make sure you have a vehicle that can accommodate the bikes.  I recommend a van since Quito is prone to rain at all times of the year.  We planned to ask our hostel to store our bike boxes so we could use them on the way home, and wanted to make sure the boxes stayed in good condition.

Viva Ecuador!

So, long story short, an amazing woman (who is not me) got the Baja Divide scholarship.  Good thing, because I already had the itch and the means to make another bike tour happen.  Sometimes the stars align and good friends decide to drink whiskey with you and buy plane tickets to Ecuador for a three week bike tour.  Enter Ani and Ed, a dynamic sister and brother duo who are no strangers to bike tours.  Ani has been featured in some of my greatest hits, including, bike touring the McKenzie Pass last year.

I am fortunate to have a healthy savings account and seven weeks of vacation, which is my non-profit's noteworthy attempt to provide work-life balance for domestic violence advocates exposed to a lot of trauma.  Ani saved a lot of money making maps and managing data for a big agricultural consultant that ended up laying off a bunch of folks due to reasons out of Ani's control.  Ed just loves bike tours and made this shit happen.  And so, our motley crew was born.  Airplane tickets have been purchased and the cold winter months of Bend, Oregon have been spent in front of toasty fireplaces sorting through gear and routes.

Mmmm, maps of Ecuador.

We find ourselves just three weeks away!  Immunizations are being finalized, research on plugs conducted, and gear being sorted.  Soon, an itinerary will be born from bike blogs and suggestions from friends who have lived in Ecuador.  I'll be happy to swap my -8 degree nights for balmy 40 degree weather in the highlands.

As always, we plan to chase the roads less travelled, eat all the food, and take the rest as it comes.

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.

Post-Trip Ramblings: The Idaho Hot Springs Tour Edition

We woke up obscenely early most likely because we passed out early the night before from our afternoon of drinking at the Dirty Shame.  Ryan had a 6 hour drive back to Bend, but I decided to take my time in the morning to have coffee and breakfast over at Wild Bill's and then head north via Hells Canyon to my parents' house in Tri-Cities.  It felt good to come full circle since we started our tour at Wild Bill's.  A bunch of wildfire fire fighters were there having breakfast... turns out there was a fire on Highway 55 south of Crouch, which is the primary way to get from Boise to this area and a bunch of people got stuck trying to go home.  As I waited for my food, I saw that the 100+ degree weather was supposed to continue for the next week, and although I was sad that the tour had been cut a few days short, it was a silver lining knowing that I wouldn't have to bike in that weather.  Since I had some extra time, I decided to make a stop at Palouse Falls State Park on the way.  It was blazing hot so I only explored for a very short period of time, but it was worth it!

Scenic views of Hells Canyon recreation area.

Nez Perce national wilderness area... I recalled the old stories of the Nez Perce as I marveled at the stark landscape.

Stunning and unexpected in the middle of southeastern Washington state.

Views down the canyon.

I stalked this momma and her not-so-little offspring for a bit before leaving.

In no particular order, there are some things I think are important to know for anyone who is planning on doing this tour this year or in the future:

• Bring a bathing suit for the hot springs and rivers.  While many hot springs in Oregon are clothing optional, many hot springs in Idaho are bathing suit mandatory.  I did not see a single nude person at the hot springs, though I may or may not have skinny dipped in a river or two.

• Ryan severely underestimated his cycling fitness for this tour despite the fact that he (a) mountain bikes on occasion and (b) has done lengthy bike tours before.  It wasn't that he was unable to do this tour, but he really struggled on the climbs.  Rule #1 in Zombieland?  Cardio.  We saw some other folks on the road who had no idea what they were getting themselves into and looked pretty miserable on the road.

• Although I understand that it was about 10-15 degrees hotter than normal, the weather in this part of Idaho is extremely variable, but it is mostly hot.  Really really really hot.  If you idealize this tour as partaking in all the hot springs, you are sorely mistaken.  The rivers, though, are also awesome.

• We really struggled with knowing when and where water sources would present themselves.  While most of the campgrounds identified on the ACA maps had pumps, not all of the did.  When we had wifi or cell phone access, we tried to research which campgrounds had pumps so we could plan accordingly.   It was also hard to decipher on the map whether or not we would be able to access the river to filter water (bring a reliable water filter... my personal favorite because it is so lightweight is the mini Sawyer).  While much of this route follows rivers, sometimes there are 20 foot steep banks (cliffs, really) which would make it impossible to get to the water.  I hope in future editions that the water sources are marked -- one icon for a pump or spigot and one icon for river access for filtering water.  We sometimes carried enough water for 2 days just in case because we couldn't reliably tell. 

• If you come from a traditional road touring background, just know that you should cut your average daily road miles in half to get a safe estimate for how much distance you will cover on dirt.  We were aiming for 42 miles a day on average.  We had days we biked anything from 28 miles to 75 miles (which included pavement sections). 

• There is cell phone service for much of the corridor between Cascade and McCall, in Ketchum, and in Stanley.  Everywhere else is fairly off grid.  Crouch and Twin Springs Resort both have publicly available wifi at the various establishments. 

• I used PocketEarth on my iPhone with an external battery to have an offline GPS and imported the GPX files from ACA.  I used it mostly to doublecheck our route and didn't keep it on the whole time to save battery.  This saved our butts a couple times and I highly recommend having a GPS for this tour, as some of the dirt road intersections are unmarked or confusing.  It is also very helpful in finding the various points of interests and hot springs, which are not signed many of the times.  Ryan had a bike computer to be able to follow the cue sheet.  These two combined were the minimum needed for this tour.

• We were told that may folks do this tour clockwise, and I think it's because there may be less total climbing that way.  We did it counterclockwise because the ACA map made it seem like that was the logical way to do it.  Regardless, if you don't like climbing, you are going to hate this route.  

• Parking cars in Cascade and Crouch gave us a multitude of emergency bailout options via the Lohman cutoff and Warm Springs road and I would do it again like that in the future.  Starting in Crouch also made Ketchum, the biggest town with the most amenities, around the halfway point-ish, which made us appreciate it more.

• When in doubt, take less gear if you are used to fully loaded touring.  The climbs are brutal with the extra weight and then factor in food and water for 2 days sometimes and... yea.  I have certain luxuries like a hammock I like to have, but I wore the same clothes the entire time and otherwise didn't carry many extraneous items.  Whatever you do, don't skimp on your repair kit.  Dirt road touring is tough on bikes.  Ryan broke his chain and lost a bolt on his rack.  Luckily we were able to repair both from my repair kit.  We were lucky and zero flats!  There are very few bike shops on the route, so prepare to be fairly self-sufficient.  

• Fire season is here early this year.  Use this resource before your trip if you travel mid to late season to see if a wildfire will affect your route: http://inciweb.nwcg.gov/state/13/. 

• If you go early season, check to make sure all the mountain passes are open here: http://www.wcc.nrcs.usda.gov/snow/. 

Aaaaaanyway, my final words are to just go!  There wasn't a single terrible view or a climb that wasn't worth it.  There wasn't a single ugly river or moment when I regretted this tour.  In fact, I can't wait to come back and finish that little bit of the upper loop I didn't get to do this time... maybe in September, maybe next year, maybe I'll do whole thing again!

Pre-Trip Preparation: The Idaho Hot Springs Tour Edition

The departure date for my Idaho Hot Springs Tour somehow snuck up on me and Ryan in a whirlwind of late spring and early summer gaiety.  We had met up for happy hour once to half-heartedly discuss the logistics and timing of getting our cars and bikes to Idaho and how many miles a day we would aim for.  At that time, the trip didn't seem real yet, so we had a hard time hammering out the nitty gritty details and I remember enjoying the beers more than anything.

Initial Logisticals

We decided that we would start in Crouch and cycle counterclockwise, Ryan would be in charge of getting a basic bike computer so he could track the turn-by-turns and I would be in charge of getting an offline GPS app for my iPhone and download the GPX file available through the Adventure Cycling Association (both of which were essential to keeping us on track with lots of unmarked forest roads).  We also settled on parking Ryan's car in Crouch and my car in Cascade to allow us the most number of bailout options, since I was driving straight from Idaho to my parents' place in Washington to fly out for a wedding.  This would allow us to use both the Lohman cutoff and the Warm Lakes road cutoff if we suffered a lot of delays, or allow me to hop in my car in Cascade to jet north while Ryan continued solo south.

Since we both already had all the gear, we just had to do last minute gear checks, and figure out where exactly we could park our cars.  I had thought to crash in Cascade the first night in town on June 20th, but after calling around, I discovered that we were starting in the middle of the Payette Games, a huge whitewater event and everything in Cascade was booked up.  Thankfully, the apologetic owner of the Alpine Lodge and Motel in Cascade, Justin, told me I could park my car there anyway.  So instead, I nabbed a room at the Wander Inn and Cabins in Crouch... a lucky find as Maggie, the gracious owner, had a last minute cancellation.  She also told me Ryan could park his car there. 

Our Bike Setupsticals

I ride a Surly Troll with 26" wheels.  This is a first generation Troll, so I had custom brazeons to allow me to mount water bottle cages on each side of my front fork and the downtube.  I also have more traditional mountain bike handlebars with Ergon grips and a sexy Brooks saddle.  My tires are the oh so heavy but oh so reliable Schwalbe Marathon Mondials (26x2), which have over 6000 miles on them with zero flats.  The Tank also comes armed with a custom Porcelain Rocket frame bag, Revelate Designs harness, 2 Revelate Designs feed bags, a Revelate Designs gas tank, a Timbuk2 Goody Box top tube bag mounted to the seat post, a rear rack with 2 Ortlieb panniers, and 5 water bottles.  Normally, I would have ditched the rear rack and panniers for a lighter weight setup, but with Ryan towing a fully loaded setup, I figured I'd opt for a few luxuries this time around.  I absolutely LOVED this setup and it handled much better than Ryan's more traditional touring setup.

The Tank, in all her glory.

Ryan rides a Surly Long Haul Trucker with 700c wheels.  Everything on his bike is stock from what I understand.  He has front and rear racks with a traditional four Ortlieb pannier setup and opted to do this tour fully loaded, as if he were on a road tour.  He did a test ride on dirt and discovered that with his cross tires on his touring bike, he was prone to pinch flatting every couple of miles.  He decided to upgrade his tires last minute to the Schwalbe Marathon Plus, which, while not necessarily ideal for dirt road touring, were good enough for zero flats for the trip.  That said, he had a very hard time on climbs, sometimes having to walk rideable sections and he often had to unclip (or wiped out) on sandy parts. 

Exploring My Corner Of The World On Two Wheels

This past weekend, my roommate Ani and I haphazardly loaded camping gear onto our bikes in preparation for a friend's housewarming BBQ... he lives just 4 miles from us on bubbling creek with a waterfront bonfire pit and plenty of space to pitch a tent if you want to have more than a few beers.  It's funny how something as simple as riding a bike with camping gear 4 miles brought back memories of all the things I love about bike touring.  We were flying down the road with the sun at our back and the wind in our hair when I knew it was time for a serious bike tour.

The Adventure Cycling Association released the maps for a new dirt road / singletrack tour in Idaho which features mountains, rivers, and a gajillion hot springs shortly after I came back from Mexico in late 2013.  Tucked in the back of my head was the idea that this would be my next longer-than-a-weekend bike tour.  As time passed, I fell in love with the perfect work-life balance I live in Bend, Oregon, with sunny days packed full of fulfilling work, mountain biking, martial arts, yoga, potlucks, hikes, and teaching salsa, and so my timeline for this tour kept getting pushed back.

It's hard getting used to having lots of vacation time and my work expects me to use it, so I decided I had to do something in June lest I not use enough of my vacation time this year.  I flitted with the idea of backpacking the Cordillera Blanca in Peru, crashing a friend's trip to Indonesia, and doing some local exploration in the Three Sisters Wilderness.  And then I asked my buddy Ryan if I could borrow his copy of the Idaho Hot Springs Tour, and I was hooked.  I decided I would do it, and wouldn't ya know it, Ryan wanted to come, too.

The Bible.

And so I find myself in the throes of researching and reading every little bit I can about this tour online... and planning some more bikepacking overnights to get my touring legs back.  We are looking at 500 miles of dirt road over 12 days of cycling starting around June 21st.

Some of the best resources I have come across so far are the following:

• Q&A with Idaho Hot Springs route cartographer Casey Greene
• ACA Idaho Hot Springs route map addenda
• ACA Idaho Hot Springs GPS data
• Bikepacking.net forum on the ACA Idaho Hot Springs route

For inspirational reading on folks who have already rocked this route:

• https://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/?doc_id=13942 
• http://www.gonesouthblog.com/category/idaho-hot-springs/

Shaking Out The Gear

The past week has been a relaxing blur of family meals, original Star Trek re-runs, sleeping in, running errands, tuning up and fixing my dad's new-to-him vintage Schwinn, drafting power of attorney documents for my uncle, drafting my final will and testament, becoming an official resident of the Evergreen State, and tying up loose ends.

Quick father-daughter bike ride to test out my work on his vintage Schwinn.

And last but not least, I spent a day shaking out all my bike touring gear in the obnoxiously pink room my mother decorated for my niece.

The gear.  All of it.  So much pink.

Gonzalo and I decided to take advantage of the beautiful sunny 70 degree weather to my first fully loaded test ride.  While I've done shorter bike tours with rear panniers, I've never done fully loaded touring with the addition of the front panniers.  From everything I had read in other trip blogs, I knew there would be a learning curve with respect to how the bike handles with the front panniers.  Most people practice first on flat pavement.  Not thinking particularly clearly, we headed out to Badger Mountain, a local mountain biking and hiking spot.

All geared up at the trailhead (photo credit: Gonzalo).

Well, true to Badger Mountain's name, it was truly a little mountain with a gravel trail that went straight up.  I quickly figured out that I had forgotten to attach the bottom of my handlebar harness, I had put too much weight up front in an overly zealous effort to keep the bike balanced, and the inclusion of all my wishful thinking items had thwarted my efforts to keep my bike tour not-so-fully-loaded.  After rearranging my panniers to move some weight back and to take a few things out that weren't essential or could be easily procured on the road, we started out again.

Nope, not riding up this (photo credit: Gonzalo).

We realized quickly after I nearly crashed out several times that maybe a steep loose gravel trail was not the best place for me to get used to the handling of a fully loaded touring bike.  So we headed to the road and biked alongside the beautiful vineyards of the wineries nearby.  

Much better... too bad we didn't get to taste any wine at this winery (photo credit: Gonzalo)!

I'll definitely need some more practice rides to get used to the handling with the front panniers, but that will come soon enough.  We're off to Seattle tomorrow to visit my brothers!

Frequently Asked Questions Redux (Or, Yes, This Is Really Happening!)

My friends have known for the past year about my trip, but now that I have less than a month until I leave, it finally feels real to them and all of a sudden the panicked requests for happy hours and dinners and questions about my trip have come pouring in.

How Do You Carry Everything?

For those who know nothing about bike touring, it seems unreal to carry everything you could need for a trip this long on a bike.  Hey, European backpackers have packed everything they need into a single backpack for their gap year trips.  Even though I have to take into consideration bike repair, camping, and food, in some ways it is actually easier because I have a steel beast of burden to portage everything.  Granted, I travel lighter than the average person because, well, I'm little... so my things are little.

My beauuuuutiful Troll!  And my beautiful panniers, thanks to Karim for making the splurge for me!

You can check out my gear and equipment list to get the full rundown, but this is basically it... although there are still things to do like trim down the kickstand (wheeee, fun with dremels!) and work out any random kinks or last minute additions (seatpost water bottle mount for my fuel!).  This setup has evolved several times from a traditional setup to a minimalist setup to a setup designed for the ultimate flexibility, and is the product of endless hours reading reviews, blogs, my own past touring experience, and doing test rides.

Also, check out this website dedicated to pictures of fully loaded touring bikes for the way others do it, with setups that range from milk crates and zipties, to setups that look like they weigh 200 pounds.

The cockpit with my tent riding up front.

Isn't This Dangerous?

Yes, some cycling tourists have had fatal accidents in other countries, but that doesn't change a thing.  Biking in DC is dangerous.  Believe me, I've gotten hit 5 times now by 3 doors, 1 taxi, and 1 pick-up truck... the most recent this past weekend 2 blocks from home. Yes, Mexico has some areas that have travel advisories.  But then again, most middle-class suburbanites wouldn't feel comfortable in my cozy corner of Capitol Hill, and I've never felt more safe.

I've lived, worked, or traveled through all of Central America and half of South America...  I've backpacked by myself through unrest in southern Thailand, and braved solo travel in Egypt.  The scariest incident I had was when I was studying abroad in Spain and a druggie made some threatening advances on a fellow student.  This awesome British couple driving from Mexico to Argentina says it better than I can... No, it's not really that dangerous, just be smart.

What About Insurance?

But I'm not stupid.  I'm a lawyer.  I'm a lawyer who has had some experience in insurance practice and who has a penchant for extreme sports and adventure... of course I'm getting insurance for my trip!  After an incredibly huuuuge amount of research and carefully analyzing policy wording, I found the closest thing to a perfect policy I could find.  I present, World Nomads!  No, this insurance will not cover my annual visits to the dentist or pre-existing conditions, but the policy will cover most everything else, including theft of my bike, repatriation of my remains, and rental car collision coverage (which is always outrageously expensive when purchased at the rental car counter).

For the grand price of $1211.78 per year, and renewable on the road, this policy covers all the good stuff.  Among countless other activities, it explicitly covers:

• Abseiling
• Base Jumping
• Cavern Diving
• Dirt Boarding
• Trekking in Antarctica
• Cycle Touring
• Flying an Aircraft
• Heli-Boarding
• Rock Climbing
• Shark Cage Diving
• Snow Rafting
• Ziplining
• Mountaineering

Are You Going Alone?

The wonderful thing about the world is that there are an estimated 7 billion of us out there, which means the odds of finding someone else out there as crazy as I am pretty good with resources like the Adventure Cycling Association, Crazy Guy On A Bike, and Warm Showers.  I put an ad in the "Companions" section of the Adventure Cycling Association website (which also was featured in the February issue of Adventure Cyclist!), and got a surprisingly large number of responses, but most folks were still in the dreaming phase rather than the execution phase of their planning.

Hey, look at me!  I'm famous!

That is, until Gonzalo de la Pena emailed me.  He has a ton of bike touring and travel experience, and so we agreed that he would come visit me in DC to meet, and he did!  We got along well, geeked out over Star Wars Legos and cycling gear, and he didn't seem like a serial killer, so we agreed to start the trip together.  He will actually be flying to meet me in Denver and joining me on my cross-country trip so we can get to know each other better, and share our love of the outdoors at various national parks along the way.

For those who worry, you can see his photo blog from his bike trips at: http://bicimundista.com/.

Frequently Asked Questions (or No, Really, I Did Actually Think This All Out!)

I've gotten used to the incredulous stares and looks of disbelief when I tell people about this trip over the past year.  Usually, the first reaction is "wow, that sounds amazing" or "wow, that sounds crazy and dangerous."  And then the questions come pouring out. 

The Darian Gap

There are those who aren't really interested and snarkily ask me how I'm going to bike across the Darian Gap.  Very funny, guys.  I'm fairly certain my bike would not appreciate trying to cross the Darian Gap by air, so I'm looking forward to a lovely boat ride from Panama City to Cartagena. 

How Long Will That Take?

There are those who aptly realize that Argentina is reaaaaally far away and ask me how long it will take to bike from the U.S. to Argentina.  The answer isn't a simple one.  I could do it in well under a year.  I've seen trip blogs of folks who have done the entire Pan-American from Deadhorse, Alaska to Ushuaia, Argentina in just 9 months.  But I'm approaching this trip with an open mind.  I will have the luxury of time and no itinerary.  The only place I absolutely have to be my brother's wedding sometime in 2014, and that just means I have to visit the U.S., if just for a bit.  I have the complete and utter freedom to stay somewhere I like for a week, a month, or a year.  Conversely, if I decide the wandering lifestyle isn't for me, I can pack up and head home after a couple months. 

How Much Will This Trip Cost?

There are those who respond to my Adventure Cycling Association website advertisement who ask me what my budget is for the subsequently described adventure:

"I'm a 32 year old American woman doing a two-plus-year self-supported bike tour starting in Seattle and going south via the Pacific Coast to Baja California, Central and South America, and possibly to Southeast Asia afterwards, depending on funds. I plan on taking my time and taking smaller dirt roads, and whenever possible, hiking, rafting, climbing, and scuba diving. 50 to 75 miles (75 to 100 km)/day, camping with one to two days/week in hostals.  Plans are flexible and I speak Spanish fluently."

From what I can tell, folks who do long distance bike tours typically fall into two categories: (1) the fresh-faced twenty-somethings in their gap year; or (2) retirees.  The former think they can get by on $10/day.  The retirees may have not even have a budget, or don't have to think in terms of a daily budget because they are living off their retirement.  Mid-career, young-ish, folks like myself seem to be scarce.

One of the first things I had to decide was how much I wanted to have set aside for the trip and how much I wanted to have set aside for "reintegration" back into American society should I choose to do so.  I decided that at a minimum, I would like to have enough money to take at least a year but up to two-years for this trip.  I read a lot of cycling blogs, in particular http://travellingtwo.com/resources/budget, to get an idea of what a reasonable budget would be. 

Ultimately, my budget was somewhat arbitrary and driven by the following conclusions:

1. I needed a nice round number to aim for. 
2. $10,000 per year of travel seemed reasonable and would allow me to do all the things I wanted to do.  It's actually more than I will probably end up spending due to how cheap Latin America is. 
3. I also have the option of finding temporary work along the way to supplement my savings since I have the advantage of speaking Spanish and English. 
4. I did not take this into account while doing my calculations, because even if I may have the option of picking up temporary work along the way, whether its manning the front desk at a hostal, giving salsa lessons, teaching English, or whatever I can muster up, I can't rely on finding that type of work.

This $10,000 number was based at least a little bit on past experience and my research:

1. I calculated that $20/day is reasonable for a solo traveler who camps over half the time, stays in hostals less than half the time, and splurges on a hot shower, beer, and a good meal a fair amount of the time. 
2. When I backpacked through Central America during law school, I managed on $15-$20/day and that was including the cost of public transportation and a bed every night.  Accomodation accounted for over half of my costs.  Camping would allow me to take that extra cash and upgrade my meals and other simple luxuries. 
3. Soooooo $20 x 365 = $7,300 base cost per year. 
4. Then I needed to make sure I budgeted for the fun splurges of rafting, scuba diving, trekking, skydiving, paragliding, or whatever else I felt was once-in-a-lifetime. 
5. $10,000 was an easy number to aim for as far as per year costs went, and made my "fun splurges / repair stuffs / emergencies" fund $225 per month.  And voila!  My minimum was to save $20,000 for the trip.

Deciding on what I felt comfortable with for "reintegration" was hard.  After all, I do have an easily liquidated 401k / IRA that has enough to see me through just about any emergency.  I also have a wonderful network of friends and family who would bail me out if I crashed and burned.  But how much money in the bank would give me ease that I could live off it and find gainful employment and a place to live if I decided to come back?  That's a highly personal analysis.  I decided I should have a $10,000 cushion.  Again, it was a somewhat arbitrary but easy to aim for.

Most people I know are always behind their financial goals.  Somehow, I managed to get ahead of mine, and ended up paying off my student loans a month early.  I recalculated my savings projections today based on the new timing of my departure from work, and somehow I will end up likely having saved enough to take at least four years off.

What Will You Do When You Get Back?

And there are those who can't quite wrap their mind around the fact that I'm willing to leave the rat race and walk away from a six figure job to go on this trip, and all they can think of to ask is what I'm going to do when I get back.  The problem with this question is the faulty premise that I plan on coming back.  Oh, don't get me wrong, I always have a Plan B/C/D/E/F.  Always.

• Plan B:  Take the foreign service exam and become a foreign service officer.
• Plan C:  Take an online TEFL course and teach English abroad.
• Plan D:  Work as a grease monkey in a bike shop.
• Plan E:  Peace Corp.
• Plan F:  Take my 401k / IRA or surplus monies and start a mountain bike hostel in the U.S. / Bolivia / Peru / wherever.
• Plan G:  Become a translator.
• Plan H:  Discover on this trip what I want to do when I grow up and do that.
• Plan I:  Live in the woods of West Virginia.
• If all else fails, go back into law.  Maybe in Alaska.  They like me up there. 

Decision Time: When Does The Byk Ride Start?

Time is a strange thing.  It passes too slowly and altogether too quickly at the same time.  For the vast majority of this year, I have been impatiently waiting and scheming ways to leave DC as quickly as possible, sometimes to the detriment of common sense and smart planning.  Over the summer, my workload at the office had slowed down to the point I had far too much time to think about how much I wanted to leave for my trip, and life and whittled away to waiting for the next paycheck so I could pay off another chunk of my student loans.  I was passing time.  I was not-so-silently hoping to get laid off from my job to give me a reason to leave sooner than later.  And then in a whirlwind of leaves changing color and the weather turning cooler, Autumn brought me back to life. 

Hiking at Great Falls... last remnants of Fall

My work landed a huge project that took me from thumb twiddling and dreaming to working overtime every night.  Fortuitously, this project had a due date of early February, which would allow me the perfect exit from my firm, on good terms.  My lease was up at the end of February.  I also unexpectedly met someone who, like me, had goals that would make setting and keeping roots in DC virtually impossible in the foreseeable future, but who has made this time something I will treasure forever, regardless of whether our paths cross again.  I was free to make the most of the time I had left here and free to leave when the time came.

Of course, this was all too good to be true.

My "perfect" plan started unravelling.  I received a summons to serve a full month of grand jury duty scheduled the latter half of January through the latter half of February.  The court extended the deadline for my huge project to April because of the overwhelming amount of work left to be done, such that giving notice in January would screw my co-workers over.  I realized I might be leaving behind the possibility of "happily ever after."  And I found myself wondering if I really had to leave so soon.  Maybe I could serve my jury duty and stay through the end of the project.  Maybe I owed it to myself to see if there was something worth coming back to DC for.  Maybe I could get LASIK.  Maybe it was worth getting a few extra paychecks.  So many maybes.


ARRRRRGGGHHH! (Photo credit: Angry Little Asian Girl)

I've done a lot of thinking and arguing with myself.  I've talked myself in circles.  Despite all the "what ifs" and "maybes," there are a few certainties: 

1. The status quo is untenable;
2. I cannot stay at this job beyond this project;
3. I need to do trip in some form or another; and
4. No matter what happens, leaving DC is going to result in a mixed bag of emotions, both good and painful.

The solution?  It's not perfect, but I think it's the right one.  I buy myself a little extra time, a little extra money, and I don't burn any bridges at my office. 

I found out that the portion of the project I am involved with will be substantially complete by the end of February.  Even if the project won't have concluded, and even though my co-workers won't like it, I can leave in good conscience at the end of February.  In fact, it's probably for the best.  When this project ends, there will be a vacuum of work for dozens of attorneys, and my departure will provide some relief to management in the long term. 

The lawyer in me was curious about serving on the grand jury, especially when I figured out that it would be the murder and violent crimes section.  So I did what any good citizen would do... I postponed my grand jury duty to April to buy myself some time.  In all likelihood, I will no longer be resident of DC before this date comes up, thus exempting me from service.

So my tentative new schedule is:

January 1, 2013:  Give notice to landlord that we will not renew lease with rent check.

February 1, 2013:  Give notice to work that my last day will be February 28, 2013.

February 28, 2013:  Last day of work and lease expires.

March 1, 2013 - March 8, 2013:  Depart DC for a two-three week cross country trip to Seattle.

Early April:  Start pedalling.