Salty Spokes

I grew up on the Oregon Coast, in Coos Bay. I didn’t have a driver’s license until I was 18 and didn’t own a car until I was 19 or 20.

My mom got me a blue, 12 speed Schwinn and I would bicycle, walk or catch a ride from friends to school and bike to work on Highway 101. I was enamored with Greg LeMond and loved to fly down hills…
Fast forward twenty one years, and I am much more of a commuter cyclist, feeling smarter about safety (I didn’t wear a helmet back then) and more savvy in my bike skills. I own a custom, hand built Pereira I have named Jitterbug which I love and wanted to ride from my mom’s place in North Bend to a cousin’s home in Coquille where the family reunion would take place.
The planning began with entering the address on Google maps and clicking the bike route. It was only 25 miles one way. Easy. I then entered the route on VeloRoutes and could see elevation gain. I thought “the description of grade has to be wrong.” It was saying 20 plus percent. I couldn’t imagine that I would encounter more than 12% on a little rural road. It turned out that was wrong.

The Climb

I told my family of my plans, and as many cyclists know, non-cyclists don’t understand why you would want to ride when you could just as easily drive. I heard comments such as, “it’s dangerous,” “you’ll get hit,” “why?” and “people drive crazy.” My cousin didn’t think it was a good idea because the road is narrow, without a shoulder and yes, “people drive crazy” and fast. My thought was, “if I can survive riding downtown Salt Lake City during rush hour, then I can ride this road.” I knew that my mom would be resistant too, but I am stubborn and wouldn’t let her worrying stop me.
When I rolled into town, I stopped at a bike shop and asked about the road. That’s when I found out that about eight miles of the road was gravel and up the steepest part of the route. It had never been paved all the way over the mountain. There didn’t seem to be a need with an alternate route off of the highway. However, since it wasn’t paved, it reduced the amount of traffic on it. He told me there was no shoulder and it was very narrow. We talked of the other route, but it had a higher volume of fast moving traffic, more climbing, still not much of a shoulder in sections, and from my experience, drinking drivers, especially on a Saturday afternoon by Laverne Park.
I decided to check the route Friday afternoon to ensure I would be comfortable riding on it. I encountered only a few cars. It would be a great morning ride.
On Saturday I woke early, ate a good, protein filled breakfast, filled my water bottles with CarboRocket, grabbed some granola bars and Clif blocks for my handlebar bag, donned my bright yellow vest, jumped on Jitterbug and hit the road. I had planned the ride to take two and a half hours.
Early mornings on the coast are generally foggy. I had concerns about visibility and had lights on my bike. Within the first half an hour, the light fog had burned off and the day was beginning to be sunny and pleasant.

Morning fog rising, Catching Slough Road

I stopped to watch a deer nibbling on tender shoots of grass near the roadside for a few minutes. She didn’t seem alarmed by my presence, but by the time I got out the camera, she had wandered off into the woods.
I felt I was doing well on time and hadn’t encountered any vehicles. I imagine the farms around the area were bustling with activity. There were chores to be done: animals fed, stalls cleaned, fields tilled. At least it kept them off the roads.
The big climb was coming, as was the end of the paved road. I had already bounced my way across a flat section of gravel where construction was being done. I felt I was prepared. I crossed onto the gravel again, this time the road began to climb quickly. I looked down at my GPS at one point and it said 14% grade. I didn’t believe it, it dropped to 12%, then 10% which was much more manageable. It is challenging climbing steep gravel. As soon as I would stand, my back tire would slip because I distributed my weight too far forward. I put it in the lowest gear and sat, grinding my way up the hill. The sunlight filtered through tall fir trees and the cool air was refreshing.

Almost to the Summit

I reached the summit, then began the down hill. I found this to be a little more sketchy for me than the climbing. My tires are a bit wider at 700×26, but I could easily fishtail with speed in the loose gravel. It was a jittery ride down the other side, but at least it wasn’t as steep as the climb. I was grateful when I hit pavement again, picked up my cadence and gave my brakes and hands a rest. I stopped at a little gas station to eat a snack, drink some CR and strip off a layer. It was at that moment I realized my light had shaken apart and fallen somewhere on the gravel road. I was bummed. I had planned to return with my brother and mother and knew there would be no way I could find the light if I wasn’t riding the road.
I continued on to my cousin’s place and when I arrived checked my time. It had taken almost an hour less than I had planned. She didn’t recognize me at first as I rode up the driveway. While waiting for my family to bring my change of clothes, I helped set up for the event. I was offered a shower and drinks. I was looking forward to getting out of my captain underpants and into a skirt. Also, I was really looking forward to a beer.
As I prepared to leave to return to North Bend, a couple of my cousins started teasing me about biking back. They offered beer for my camelbak and to drive ahead of me to dust me on the gravel road. I teased back that I would wait for beer once I had made it home (a good northwest microbrew, not the icky, flavorless Coors Light and Busch stuff they were imbibing in) and told them to watch for cyclists.
The ride back was a bit more challenging. The afternoon brought with it a steady headwind. My pace was much slower after eating so much food and battling the wind. I was actually grateful for getting on the gravel again because the wind was lessened by the surrounding trees. The climb was also easier on this side of the mountain. A car came up behind me slowly and I realized it was one of my family members from the reunion. They offered me a ride which I politely declined. I was having a good ride and wanted to search for my light as I rode. I knew if I found it, Light and Motion would likely replace it at no cost. I found it close to the summit of the south side, batteries and housing beat up and slightly broken from someone running it over.

Vega bites the dust

I began the steep descent and wondered if my rims would overheat. I was very cautious. At one point I stopped, close to the “14%” grade and felt my rear tire. It was going flat. I pulled off the road out of the way to pump it up, hoping it was just a slow leak I could manage once I was off the gravel. It wasn’t. I changed the tire while cars drove by, dust and gravel kicking up near me on the shady pass. One stopped to offer assistance, but I was finished by then.

Once I got off the gravel and into the open again, the wind returned. I am not a fan. I got into my drops and hammered forward. I was quite happy to see the corner mart located a block from my mom’s where I would treat myself with delicious, northwest carbs.
The consensus of most of my family when they found out I rode my bike from North Bend to Coquille, was that I was crazy. Perhaps I am crazy, but nothing makes me happier than the joy I feel when I am riding my bike.

The Reward