It’s been a busy spring with winter hanging on with a mighty grip. Hood had fresh snow last weekend which should extend the skiing into June. My riding has been ticking up as a carry over from last year when I finally discovered all of the amazing cycling opportunities in the region. Some I can ride to from home, some accessed with a short drive in order to eliminate riding through busier streets. It’s been a lot of fun to get back on the bike for some long rides in the Gorge or west of Portland closer to the coast range.

I was deep in the Gorge last weekend near Larch Mountain on a solo mission following a course through some of the more remote parts of Bridal Veil creek. 5 miles up a logging road the trail abruptly ended at a tangle of downed trees, dense undergrowth and steep drainage on both sides. I was miles from nowhere going in circles, carrying my bike, jumping logs, walking in the creek bed with water up to my shins looking for a trail. I was wearing bib shorts, a synthetic t-shirt base, cycling jersey, summer arm warmers and an anorak shell to trap in the warmth. It was raining and my legs were getting scraped up from the briars.

It’s in these moments when you find out some truths about yourself. I ran through all possible scenarios. Continue forward into the unknown: maybe I’ll find the continuation of the trail. Turn around and ride back the way I came (the easy way out). I had 3 gels remaining – about 500 calories. I had a liter of water in my hydration vest, I was warm enough while moving. I didn’t have any way to make a fire, but probably couldn’t because of the rain. I was thinking about people who hike off into the rain forests in Hawaii never to be seen again. If I break a leg off trail, things could get serious. I had no cell signal – but saw that my phone could send an emergency message via satellite. I was studying GaiaGPS on my phone to see if I was anywhere near the trail (there was no trail in Gaia).

I kept going.

I continued to jump logs, passing my bike over, then climbing over and down. Kicking steps into deep moss to follow what looked like a steep logging grade. It wasn’t. I climbed back down, lowering my bike ahead of me. I continued walking through the creek and up the drainage and saw ahead of me a rise to a flat area. Relief. I was confident it was the continuation of the road. It wasn’t. Keep going. I was able to make out a narrow overgrown path of rocks and followed that – continuing to get further away from where I started.

I estimated I had 5 hours of daylight remaining — some cushion in case I needed to reverse course. I knew I could confidently follow my course backwards. After shuffling along and pushing my bike next to me I crested another small rise and saw a pile of boulders. This was the other terminus where the road continued. Spicy. I think if I was with others they would have protested and wanted to turn around. My grimmest thought was that if I perish here, I would just be absorbed into the forest. There are worse ways to go.

Another 2 miles up a forest road I overtook a hiker jogging on the road, I pulled up beside and said, “I just got really lost”. He asked where I started. Dabney Rec area, I told him. I still had miles left to ride to get back to the van. But I wasn’t lost anymore.