McKenzie River Trail, We Heart You

Short Version:
We ride the McKenzie River Trail again, and it's still awesome.

Long Version:
The McKenzie River Trail was the first trail of our tour which got a rave review, and there was no way we were going past it again without re-riding. This time, though, we were on our own, so we parked at the Trailbridge Reservoir halfway point and rode up the road to the south end of Clear Lake. Given that we'd already ridden both sides of the lake*, I'd been expecting to skip the lake circuit and head straight down the river trail. Lovely wife had other ideas, and we worked our way up the western (easy) side of the lake, round the north end, and back down through the lava fields of the eastern lake trail. It was just as horrible and difficult as it was the first time around.

The real fun started once we crossed the highway and the river and set off down the main body of the upper half of the trail. Technical challenge bliss, interspersed with some flat riding, although, as the French bloke from the Cog Wild group we caught up to on the trail asked: "When do we get to ze part wiz ze flowing?" Tres awesome.

We stopped at the Reaper for a picnic, then started down the lower half of the trail. I was tired from the get-go, but Nene was in her element and getting faster, as the trail had opened out, with more flow and some tasty traverses interspersed with nasty little climbs. Which she loved. She didn't even baulk when she ran over the snake. An hour or so in, I decided that was enough, and turned back up the trail to collect the van, whilst Janine continued on to the end, where I collected her an hour and a half or so later. She was still grinning, as were the Cog Wild folks, whom she'd befriended, and their driver, Whangarei-born Bend resident Bruce (Hi Bruce!). Janine looked fresh as a bloody daisy, unlike the rest of the folks, who looked far more appropriately bedraggled given they'd just finished a 5.5-hour ride. We attempted a cleansing swim, but the first touch of the water helped us understand why the kayakers who'd pulled in for a lunch stop were all wearing thick, hooded wetsuits.

We disappeared up a side road, into the woods, and found a nice spot** in which to camp for the night. We woke to sun, and to critters galore, including an enormous, noisy squirrel and a repeat visitor hummingbird. Clever wife took Oakridge Marcello's advice and fixed my trashed shoe using dental floss, pushing the needle through the thick shoe material using pliers. The exercise was so successful that she went on to mend glove rips, a broken dress strap, and the flotilla of holes ripped in my fancypants Black Butte Porter riding shirt when I fell backwards down a bank after failing to negotiate an uphill switchback on Oakridge's Middle Fork Trail.

And then it was my turn to ride the bottom half of the McKenzie River Trail. And Lo, It Was Good!

This was my second full run through this trail, but my first without having already ridden several hours to get there. For Janine, those several hours are an appropriate entree, and leave her warmed-up and ready to flay the ride. I'm more of a flayee at that point, well ready for a cup of tea (beer) and a lie-down. A drop-off at Deer Creek, though, helped me see why Lovely Wife rates the bottom half of the McKenzie River Trail up there with the Alpine Trail in Oakridge as some of the best riding on the planet. Riding alone, I had music on for the first time in a long time, and the semi-random random setting on my El Cheapo iPod knock-off served me up some soundtrack treats, including:
- Killdozer's Hi There, which proved an excellent warm-up tempo;
- a Frank Black best-of, which kicked the tempo up a notch or three;
- various others, culminating in a bunch of early-90s thrash metal from Forbidden, which had me flying - sometimes literally - for the last twenty minutes or so of the hour I was riding.

The trail had been like the best flattish bits of Rotorua strung together for a longer run, and with a more natural feel. by the end I'd done some of the most attacking riding I've yet managed on this continent, and I felt bloody good.

The McKenzie River Trail: if you like riding bikes in the woods, go ride there.







* = Not on purpose.

** = As with many of the dispersed spots we've found, there was evidence of prior human activity, primarily embodied as expended shotgun shells.