TransAm Day #59 Mitchell, OR - Prineville, OR
TransAm Day #59
July 25, 2018
Mitchell, OR - Prineville, OR
69 Miles
Ride Time 5:53 Hours
Tour Total Miles 4156
I slept well in my tent last night in the Lions Club City Park in Mitchell. I set up my tent without the fly because it was too hot. I was concerned that it would rain, even though there were stars in the sky. I was camping alongside a creek and could hear water gurgling all night long.
I was up before my traveling companions. Another couple camping next to me had Trader Joe’s bags, a sign that I was nearing the coast and familiar territory. Nothing in Mitchell was open except for the grocery store. The proprietor told me that her husband, a judge, had ran off with a twenty-three year old. Scott and I split a box of cereal and milk. We ate our breakfast at a picnic table in the park.
Right out of Mitchell, Scott and I made a detour to the Painted Hills which was an incredible psychedelic experience. The hills seemed tie-dyed or air-brushed. It’s impossible to capture the subtle variations and color with my iPhone camera. Ginormous monumental hay bales down in the valley gave the hills a nice perspective.
Deep into the hills, rather than turn around and retrace our route, Scott and I decided to trust his phone and the light gray lines on the screen. We knew it was a gamble, and in the end we paid. The gravel road dead-ended at a gate with razor wire and a sign threatening an armed response for trespassers. We had gone ten miles off route, meaning a total of twenty miles. It was totally worth it.
The area was named for John Day, an early fur trapper who came to this area seven years after Lewis and Clark. The river used to be named Mah-ha. John Day was robbed here of all of his possessions, and the river was later renamed after him.
The Painted Hills excursion took a lot out of me, and I still had the 2300’ Ochoco Pass ahead of me. I counted the miles on my odometer as well as the road side mile markers. It was grueling and slow-going. I took a break on the side of the road and ate some bananas. The trees were all dead, presumably from a forest fire. There was no shade, and I was completely exposed to the sun.
My favorite moment going over a pass is seeing the steep grade downhill warning sign. Heading east over the Ochoco pass, the downhill was gradual to the point of being flat and I never saw a sign. At least I was greeted with evergreen trees.
I passed two British eastbound cyclists who were crossing Oregon. A pick-up truck sped past our little powwow and the driver angrily yelled, ‘Get off the road!’. The valley was narrow and filled with grass. The hills to either side of the road had thinly spaced pine trees. There was a headwind all the way to Prineville and it was brutal. I stopped and took another break to eat an apple.
Approaching Prineville I could see a daunting snow-covered range far in the distance. That was a problem for another day. I stopped for a burrito at Tacos Toledo Mi Tiendita, where I also enjoyed a few Dos Equis. My companions and I then rode to the Ochoco Brewing Company for some local beer on tap.
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