On the Road – Page 15

On the Road: Dan Sharp in Oregon

It is easy to fall into the trap of the big ride, the grand statement. Why ride if you’re not going to put up big miles? Why stop to enjoy the view, if you’re not at the Grand Canyon. But adventure is everywhere, on our daily commutes, at our local trail systems, down roads we’ve just never turned onto before. Daniel Sharp lives in Portland, Oregon, and though his ambitions took him to the Alaskan backcountry, he is also willing to engage the wild in his own backyard, as on a recent trip from the Hood River to the Dog River.

Below you’ll find some of his thoughts on the trip.

Not all adventures are created equal. I wrote my friend Andy Waterman about doing an adventure for Benedicto and he mentioned Alastair Humphrey’s book Microadventures. I like the idea that not every adventure has to be an epic. Epics require lots of planning, free time, and money. Our Alaska trip was a huge eye opener for us in terms of thinking about exploring roads without cars and being fairly self sufficient. Trips like that open your mind to the possibilities and get you dreaming about traveling the world by bike…But there is also reality.

The cool thing about this route is that the only driving we would have to do is down 84 an hour to Hood River. The genius of bikepacking is less car time, more riding time and you really enjoy the process of getting there. Anyone that rides a road bike in Oregon has most likely ridden the fantastic Hood River-to-Mosier trail, which is the restored portion of the Historic Columbia River Highway that is closed to cars. Sunny Saturdays are busy there with weekend warriors both young and old, so we had lots of questions as we strapped bags onto our bikes in the parking lot.

Right away I was struck with the perfect temps and the quality of the fall light. The last time Tori and I had done this route it was the first week of July. This paved stretch is a great warm up for the day of dirt roads ahead – it’s a gentle climb to the tunnel and riders are treated to spectacular views of the gorge and a swift descent down to Mosier.

The route is good practice for long days of climbing. It’s primarily a dirt road route with a couple of rocky stretches…Really, for the climb a cross bike would be fine, but for the descent a suspension fork lets you bomb it properly. I guess our different bike setups prove the point that you can do this route on just about any bike. I’ve really been enjoying the ride quality of the Seven with 2.3 tires. With the proper tire pressure, I can really let it roll on the descents without too much stress. This ride affords some excellent views to the North of Mt. Adams, Mt. Rainier, and Mt. St. Helens. Looking East you get views towards Dufur. And of course as you climb South on the route Mt. Hood just gets bigger and bigger.

Knowing the route, I was confident three bottles would get me to the first water refill at Beaver Spring, which is 19.8 miles from our starting point, or 13.3 miles from Mosier. You have to hike in a bit off the route to get to a good place to filter, but if you follow the trampled grass and leaves on the East side of the road, and listen for the sound of running water it’s fairly obvious where to go. We also knew that we’d be camping by a water source, so we didn’t have to climb with all of our water for dinner and breakfast.

For me, it was great to share this route that challenged me three years ago on the hut trip and feel my familiarity improve with every successful run. I don’t have every turn memorized yet, so I still rely on the GPX track and the cues, but it gets easier every time. It was great to be able to share the ride!

We all marveled at how different the route seemed on day two. The morning light was different, the views were different and we got to descend everything we climbed yesterday. There was alot of incredulous “we climbed up that?” We stopped for every view we missed the day before. Sometimes the fun of bombing dirt roads won out and I had to just make a mental snapshot and keep on riding.

On the Road: Zand Martin in the Altai Mountains

Zand Martin is an explorer. You met him here prior to this expedition. “Circling the Golden Mountains” is an attempt to circumnavigate the Altai by ski and bicycle and to tell the story of this region, its people and landscape, to as wide an audience as possible.

We outfitted Zand with an Expat S backcountry touring bike, which, as you’ll see, he packed with skis plus everything he might need to live in the wilderness for weeks at a time. Here are some photos from his trip prep, and some brief words about his plans.

We intend to trace a 4,000-kilometer route through Kazakhstan, China, Mongolia, and Russia, and to carry skis on our bicycles and execute between two and three dedicated multi-day ski tours in each country, with peak ascents and roadside missions as spring advances. We hold an absolute dedication to a light, fast, and low-budget aesthetic, and unless we hold to this style throughout, the route will not be possible.

When I first started running my own expeditions, sourcing maps was one of the most intimidating details for me. If you want to hike in the White Mountains or paddle in Maine, you can probably get by with an atlas and gazetteer, or a swing by a local outdoor store for a specialty map. Kazakhstan, rural France, or even more distant places in North America would at first seem impenetrable without the right tools, and a novice could have trouble finding those tools. To be clear, I am talking about paper maps. The ability to read terrain and landmarks, and associate them with features on a topographic or physical map printed on paper is the key skill in expedition navigation, both in the front country and the wilderness.

Watch this space for more installments and gorgeous photos from Zand in the Golden Mountains, the Altai.

On the Road: Dan Sharp in Alaska

It is forever humbling, the places people go on our bikes, and the stories and photos they come back with are like treasure. Daniel Sharp is an adventurer, writer and photographer with a vivid imagination and very human storytelling style. He’s not superhuman. He doesn’t pose as the master of the wilderness he explores. His are stories we can relate to, and pictures we can dream about.

Here are some of the images from a recent trip to Alaska, with excerpts from his trip journal.

Alaska is way too big to squeeze into a single two week trip so for this, our first Alaskan adventure, we focused on the Kenai Peninsula. We flew into Anchorage, spent a couple days making sure our bikes were put together properly…

The next day we set off to ride Lost Lake Trail. The plan was to ride from the Lost Lake trailhead to Primrose campground. This is not a huge ride in terms of mileage, but this was to be our first loaded ride in Alaska, so it was a bit of a test to see how it went on legit singletrack.

The descent into Primrose was challenging with a loaded bike. At times it was steep, rocky and littered with roots. We rode most of it and walked the crazy parts. We stopped and picked blueberries.

Lost Lake was a good warm up, but now we’re ready for the real test: Resurrection Pass.

Here we go! Resurrection Pass! jingle jangle of bear bells. The first thing that struck me about the trail is that it was nothing like Lost Lake. There was sustained climbing, but it was so much gentler. This was more of a proper bikepacking trail.

We met our first bunch of marmots–they’re bascially ground hogs–they signal each other to let their crew know we’re approaching. Aside from birds, they’re the only wildlife we’ll see, which I find strange. I was hoping to see some mountain goats at least. I love the trail above treeline. It’s alpine tundra–raw and sculpted.

Tori wisely brought newspaper plastic bags to put over our socks and under our shoes. I’m amazed how well they work to keep my feet warmer and keep the wet out. Best DIY vapor barriers ever.

The last miles of the day go quickly, finding good lines over wet roots, crossing streams, splashing through puddles. Before you know it we start to signs that we’re getting close to the trailhead, signage that we saw on day one, a cabin, a group of day-hikers cheering us up the last grunty climb. I start to get that hesitation where I feel sad that I hurried back to the car, that I gobbled up the descent instead of savoring it in slow motion. We know this was special and we want to make it last.

We were able to leave our anxieties, one by one at each stream crossing and get to a point where we felt not only safe, but really comfortable living by bike on trail. The ability to take everything you need to live with you and arrive safely under your own power is such a great feeling.

See the bike Dan rides here. Come back for more of Dan’s adventures including a recent microadventure in Oregon.

In the Still of the Night

Here in the northern hemisphere, daylight savings and the tilt of the Earth on its axis are depriving us of sun-out riding time. Whether we like it or not (we like it), we are all clocking more miles in the dark. Luckily, over the last few seasons high-powered lights have become more and more affordable, so not only do we feel safer, but we also have enough light to engage in adventures both on and off the road.

It is easy to look out a dark window, especially after the temperature starts to drop, and think your cycling season is over. What we know is that on the right bike, with the right lights, a whole new season is just beginning.

Top photo above by Kirk Tegelaar. All other photos by Seven’s own resident ~~vampire~~ night owl Rob Vandermark.

Off Road with Mike Bybee

Like most of our favorite riders, Mike Bybee brings an enthusiasm to cycling that makes other people want to ride bikes, too. So beyond the fact that he’s an accomplished bike packer, travel photographer and all around outdoors dude, he was a pleasure to collaborate with, and we think the bike we built him came out all the better for it.

Although he plans to ride his Seven on all Seven continents (yes, including Antarctica), we checked in with him for an early review only a few weeks after he had taken delivery.

Seven: Why this bike?

Mike: The Seven Sola SL is a great compromise between ultra-butted and straight tube frames. The craftsmanship is absolutely top-notch, and I knew that working with the designers and builders personally would insure that the bike would be tailored to me, not simply cobbled together to reduce discomfort.

With a goal of singletrack bike based travel and setting wheels on all seven continents, compromises have to be made. Seven Cycles did a great job at making sure the bike was as light and nimble as any dedicated dedicated all-mountain bike while still giving me the comfort, durability and carrying capacity to spend weeks on the bike without resupply.

Seven: How does it measure up to your expectations?

Mike: Seven Cycles has blown me away entirely. The bike weighs barely more than the standard spec, despite being built for exceptional ruggedness. The innovative design of the rear rack means that I’m able to carry a full load without it interfering with the brakes or relying on a convoluted series of adapters. The welds and craftsmanship are top notch, and the bike is the most agile 29er I’ve ever used – far better than the competition. It handles better than any bike I’ve ridden in its price-range, and with a fit and form that blow them all away.

Seven: Where are you going to take it?

Mike: Immediate term, it’s making its way across Arizona. Early 2015 it’ll be in Utah and New Mexico, and preparations are underway for a tour of Norway’s remote bike trails as well. Travel is being arranged for Iceland, Europe, and Australia in the coming years, with a trip to a research base in Antarctica already in the works.