One student has found that bike touring can
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Zen you away
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Inner Bike Touring, or The
Zen of Bike Touring?
Of course. I’m sure some
clever writer with an eye on the
popular market already has
written them. Bike touring, like
other sports, is vulnerable to
both questionable writers and
pop psychology.
But they are vulnerable only
because there is something to
all the mumbo-jumbo about
“inner this” and "inner that."
When my roommate and I re
turned two weeks ago from an
eight-day trip along the Oregon
coast, I caught my first real
glimpse of whatever "that” is.
It has something to do with
changes in perception. On a
bike I had to observe what we
passed through. I watched the
weather, the plants, the animals.
I watched myself, trying to figure
out each new physical sensa
tion.
I smelled and felt the terrain. I
remember certain hills, switch
backs, stretches of river that
promise good trout fishing. I
learned to accept the rain and
wind and devised my own sys
tem for staying as dry as possi
ble.
And when I went inside for a
hot meal, I watched other peo
ple. They belonged to the world
that moves too fast and doesn’t
live outside.
Because food is heavy, stores
take on an unusual appeal —
even Safeway. There’s nothing
like chocolate milk — lots of
calories — and bananas in the
late afternoon with 10 miles to
ride before setting up camp.
Even the meals of nuts,
raisins, cheese, bagels and lots
of water weren’t bad when we
spent the day riding along a
river like the Alsea, which enters
the ocean at Waldport. The Al
sea is one of Oregon’s most
beautiful — and unpopulated —
rivers.
We began our trip by riding to
the Umpqua River via Loraine.
From Drain we followed the river
to Reedsport, then turned south
and rode — through rain and
strong headwinds — to North
Bend, where we layed over a
couple days to wait out the
storms.
The storms waited longer
than us. We rode north as far as
Waldport, where strong head
winds — it took 2Vi hours to
cover the 8 miles from Yachats
to Waldport — forced us inland
up the Alsea. We made the right
decision.
After days of wind and rain,
feeling the sun overhead while
following the south fork of the
Alsea over the coast range
became a euphoric experience.
Euphoric like the stretch of
Highway 101 from Florence to
Yachats, where you ride along
the edge of the continent, the
wind nothing but rain-washed
salt air.
Two weeks have passed since
that trip, and riding to campus in
the rain has ceased to be a
major concern. My appetite has
almost returned to normal, alth
ough I can’t get enough banan
as. And I’ve almost finished the
outline of my first book.
You guessed it — "Inner Bike
Touring.”
By Glenn Boettcher
Graphic by Sioux Anderson
J
V,
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