I spend more time planning road trips than actually sitting on the bike saddle during the rides. The process starts early with conversations among our four-member traveling group. Where should we go this year? When do our personal calendars align? What do we want to accomplish?

We try to connect the destination dots as we study maps from San Diego to British Columbia. How can we put together seven days of diverse riding while minimizing our drive time between cities?

So many questions. So many decisions.

The perfect itinerary allows for multi-night hotel stays so we can minimize packing and moving and still be near superb cycling routes. A few places quickly come to mind.

- Port Angeles on Washington State’s Olympic Peninsula. There’s the easy Olympic Discovery Trail, the mammoth Hurricane Ridge climb to a mountain top, and a ferry to sublime Victoria, B.C.

- Bend, Oregon. Six state scenic bikeways in the region range from the modest Twin Bridges route to the extreme McKenzie Pass ride over the Cascade Range.

Then there’s Northern California’s East Bay, and the city of Pleasanton, to be specific.

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But why would a suburban city such as Pleasanton provide a quality base for road cycling? The popular real estate axiom applies here: Location, location, location.

This is called the Tri-Valley area, where the Livermore, Amador, and San Ramon valleys come together. Pleasanton, about 20 miles east of the San Francisco Bay, is positioned at the junction of Interstates 580 (east/west) and 680 (north/south). Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) light-rail system stops here, and BART welcomes bikes.

We made Marriott’s AC Hotel Pleasanton our two-night home during this year’s California tour.

Where to Ride
There are many tantalizing bike rides in the Bay Area. My list always starts with these.

Grizzly Peak – Grizzly Peak Boulevard is an exemplary climbing experience in the Berkeley Hills whether you join the organized Grizzly Peak Century spring event or simply set out on your own. We like to start in Moraga, 25 miles from our hotel, and work our way north. We always find a few redwood trees on our way up to Tilden Regional Park as well as panoramic views of distant San Francisco.

Calaveras Road – Here’s another East Bay ride 25 miles from the hotel. Calaveras Road stretches for 15 stunning miles between Milpitas to Sunol. Look down on Calaveras Reservoir as the road snakes under sprawling oak trees. This is a featured segment during the annual Primavera Century staged by the Fremont Freewheelers Bicycle Club. Watch out for the 2.6-mile “Wall” near Milpitas. There’s nearly 1,000 feet of elevation gain here and a 16 percent maximum grade. Ride south on Calaveras Road if you want to avoid the pain.

Mt. Tamalpais – Marin County is a bridge west of Pleasanton, and it’s well worth driving 50 miles to Fairfax for a ride up and over this iconic Bay Area landmark. Enjoy the climb through the lush Mt. Tamalpais watershed, around peaceful Alpine Laker, and over the “seven sisters” before the summit and a fast descent back to civilization.

Mt. Diablo – I confess. I’ve never ridden up this devil. Cycling companions Bob Cortright and John Haus, however, have diverted from my more mundane Bay Area plans to take on this expedition. Here’s what Bob has to say:

“Every area has its big dog, signature climb. In the East Bay, it’s Mt. Diablo. Omnipresent in the background, a constant, silent challenge ready to test riders,” Bob tells me.

He uses descriptors such as “wonderful solitude” and “entertaining” and says there are “fabulous, long views as the road rises and twists up and around the mountain.

“There’s a unique sting in the tail ending with a short, 16 percent-plus ramp to the summit,” Bob continues. “You can spend a few minutes soaking up the views at the summit before a screaming descent.”

Riding Local
Some cyclists may be more interested in a less strenuous effort, perhaps a comfortable spin east from Pleasanton toward Livermore and the local wine region. While Bob and John were tilting up steep grades, I followed wide bike lanes along Vineyard Avenue toward the grapes.

My path eventually veered down a long palm tree-lined driveway to Rubino Estates Winery on the original Ruby Hill Winery property. I stepped inside to view that day’s offerings – Italian varietals and California standards. Barbera. Sangiovese. Nebbiolo. Cabernet Sauvignon. Chardonnay. I did not sample; I don’t taste and ride. But my interest was piqued. A post-cycling visit was in order.

One More Ride
The Altamont Hills east of Livermore are the final geographic barrier before leaving the Bay Area and descending into the city of Tracy and the Central Valley. These hills have been a curiosity of mine for years. I’d seen the windmills lining the slopes, but I had never ventured off Interstate 580 to see more. Here was our chance.

Since the itinerary called for a drive to Chico and Honey Run Road, we decided to explore the area on our way north. The ups and downs of Altamont Pass and Tesla roads combined for another story at another time.

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

“Cycling Across Oregon,” published in 2024, is an exploration of rural Oregon using the state’s official scenic bikeways network as a road map. I am posting chapters here each month as a bonus for paid “Why We Ride” subscribers. This chapter is available to all until October.

CHAPTER 2

‘The Formula Works’
Port Orford – April 22, 2021

The wind pushes against us as we pedal west. This was expected. The Cape Blanco headland, the westernmost point in Oregon, protrudes into the Pacific Ocean along a coastline known for its blustering year-round breezes. Why should we be spared?

A narrow road rises and falls as we pass cranberry bogs, a field with grazing sheep and gorse, an invasive shrub that glows with its clusters of bright yellow spring flowers. We proceed, lowering our heads against the gusts. Six miles in, the historic Hughes House appears on our right. Designated camping for touring hikers and bikers is to the left. Straight ahead, a towering white lighthouse glimmers in the noon sun.

After 47 miles of riding today, the Cape Blanco Lighthouse is our featured destination. But while the Wild Rivers Coast Scenic Bikeway takes us to the lighthouse and the ocean, I’m enamored with another segment, a squiggling, secluded, two-lane forest road that follows the Elk River inland to the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest.

Wild Rivers Coast Scenic Bikeway
Start and Finish: Port Orford
Distance: 61 miles
Elevation Gain: 3,028 feet
Rating: Moderate

Port Orford, an hour’s drive north of the Oregon-California border, is part of a coastal region promoted as the Wild Rivers Coast to highlight the towns, local beaches, and rivers that flow to the sea on both sides of the state line. While the popular Rogue, Smith and Chetco rivers get most of the acclaim, the smaller Elk River captures us today.

We’re here in late April when dry weather usually arrives first in Southern Oregon. We have a full cycling schedule ahead of us this year and Bob Cortright suggested we get started as early as possible. After more than four hours driving from the Willamette Valley and a night at the local Sea Crest Motel, we begin early from Port Orford’s Battle Rock Wayside Park.

Waves crash on the park’s wide beach only yards from Highway 101, a roadway that sweeps into town past local storefronts and leaves just as quickly as it arrives. The road is wide, very wide, despite allowing only one traffic lane in each direction. Near a bend sits The Crazy Norwegian’s Fish & Chips, a small dinner shack where the food is fast and tasty. It’s become a regular stop for us each time we come to town.

“The vibe is definitely irreverent if not crazy,” owner Dianne Hosford says with a laugh. “I don’t expect my employees to be super-serious about things. It’s not supposed to be a serious dining establishment.”

It’s not. Wooden tables and chairs are positioned next to wood-paneled walls across two small rooms. Customers are likely wearing knit caps and jackets in winter and ball caps and shorts in summer. The Crazy Norwegian is predictable, Dianne emphasizes. “The formula works.”

It’s been working for nearly 30 years. The fare has been steady since Dianne became the fourth owner in 2014. The No. 1 seller on the menu is fish and chips. No. 2 is fish tacos. “It’s old school coastal fish and chips here.”

The restaurant fits well within the community. Port Orford remains a throwback of sorts on the Oregon coast. It’s a small town by anyone’s definition; the 2020 U.S. census counted 824 residents. Dianne calls it “the outpost.”

“It’s a little hub in the middle of nowhere,” she says. “It’s an agrarian economy with a fishing industry. And, it’s old.”

All is quiet on this weekday morning, but I imagine a steady stream of recreational vehicles must roll through here on summer weekends. The local economic base hasn’t changed much over the decades.

“It’s still fishing for the folks who live here full time,” concurs Erin Kessler, the local bike shop owner. “And logging, ranching, cranberries, stuff like that.”

Erin and her family relocated here from Alaska in 2008, seeking just what Port Orford has to offer. “We wanted a smaller town with a smaller population where everybody might have varying political opinions or social opinions, but everyone still talks to each other. We wanted our kiddo to be in a smaller school.”

She opened Pineapple Express Adventures in 2017, a bike shop catering to mountain bike and beach-compatible fat tire bike rentals. It’s also a popular repair and resource center for cyclists riding the scenic bikeway or following the 370-mile Oregon Coast Bike Route from Washington state to California, though she admits there’s not much money generated from these passers-through. “I give a lot of free air and free advice, and I sell a couple tires here and there. I’ve got free maps for people who come in and I show them the best places to catch the [scenic bikeway] route if they don’t want to do the whole thing.”

Here’s her free advice. Drive north to Elk River Road and skip 3-plus miles of uphill pedaling on Highway 101.

I get it. Some people rightfully are concerned about riding alongside the highway traffic, but we find the road shoulders sufficiently wide to provide a safe buffer. Patti Rogers, Bob, and I push away from Battle Rock at about 10 a.m., ready for a stern test. A stiff breeze blowing from the north adds a chilled, resistant headwind as we travel first along a quiet, residential street and then on the highway until we reach Erin’s recommended starting point. With a right turn into the trees, we escape the wind.

This is Elk River Road, Coos County Road 208, and the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest. We will pedal 19 miles southeast along the river to our turnaround point at Butler Bar Campground. Drainage from the nearby Copper Salmon Wilderness area flows into the river’s north and south forks and merge. Still, the river is neither wide nor rushing. With a few exceptions, this water lingers, flowing to the sea at a leisurely pace.

We pass a few homes as we begin on this secluded stretch of road, each house set back from the right-of-way. Traffic is minimal, only those who live here, are camping or fishing, or are on the job with the National Forest Service have a reason to be here. The road is in relatively good condition; several smooth patches cover potholes we encountered on the same ride four years ago. The repairs give us more time for river watching and less time worrying about tire damage.

When asked to name salmon habitats across the state, Oregonians likely would suggest the Rogue, the Umpqua, the Deschutes and even the Columbia River, but not the Elk River tucked away here on the South Coast. The river is not long; about 29 miles, national forest officials say. We efficiently click off the first seven miles and arrive at the Elk River Salmon Hatchery, an Oregon Fish and Wildlife operation along the river. An official state document states the hatchery is designed “to supplement natural production of fall Chinook in the Elk and Chetco Rivers and Winter Steelhead in the Chetco River, and to protect and restore wild populations of fall Chinook, Coho, and Winter Steelhead.”

Ryan Gertken, a local hatchery technician, says it in simpler language. “We want people to catch the fish we raise.”

The hatchery collects and incubates fish eggs to nurture and enhance populations. The fish are later released into rivers. There are two boat ramps at the hatchery for launching drift boats in the peak season, usually between November to April, Ryan says.

The hatchery, nearly eight miles from the highway, seems remote and perhaps a little distant for visitors but Ryan says that’s far from the truth. Plenty of people stop by, some to fish and some to follow a self-guided hatchery tour. Others drive to the parking lot, unload bikes, and follow the same path we ride today into the national forest. “This is a very popular spot for the bikers,” Ryan says. “They swing through here all the time. I see a lot of the same people, too. Some are seniors and some are families with little kids. They’ll either park at the hatchery or start out by Highway 101.”

Ryan lives and works at the hatchery, and regularly takes advantage of his location by heading out at 6 or 7 a.m. for a ride before his workday begins.

What’s the appeal?

“The scenery. It’s calm, it’s quiet. There are plenty of pull-offs to hang out by the river. I usually have a snack at the bridge and watch the fish. That’s kind of my thing.”

I enjoy how the environment changes once we cross into the national forest. The road narrows and deep, lush green becomes a primary color. Trees, thick underbrush, ferns. We instinctively slow down as if we’ve passed through a gate and entered an enchanted wilderness. We move under the canopy and recalibrate to listen for the babbling river, chirping birds, and a much gentler wind wiggling leaves above us. We stop, as Ryan does, to watch water spill over rocks and flow down through an increasingly narrow gorge. Once calm in pools, the water turns emerald to the eye. We take pictures and marvel. There are many miles ahead of us, yet we’re not in a hurry.

Eventually, we pass Butler Bar Campground and briefly stop at a small bridge spanning the narrow river, Ryan’s snack spot. It’s not unusual to see wildlife here both in the water and in the sky. Bald eagles glide above, the steelhead and salmon swim below. We listen and absorb, then return to the campground for our own food break before following the river back to the highway, the wind, and our ride to Cape Blanco.

Back at U.S. 101, we turn west toward Cape Blanco State Park and its 147-year-old lighthouse. It’s not an easy ride. Shifting winds buffet us for five miles. There are rare escapes from the gusts as Cape Blanco Road passes through a stand of trees and over a hill before finally opening to the windy headlands, the lighthouse, and the ocean.

The lighthouse, constructed in 1870, remains the oldest existing beacon on the Oregon coast. The nearby Hughes House was built 28 years later for ranchers Patrick and Jane Hughes. Both the lighthouse and the Hughes home are normally open for tours, but these are not normal times. It’s late April 2021 and public places remain closed to guard against COVID exposure. It wasn’t always this way, of course. Bob, Eric Jacobson, Jennifer Donnelly, Elise Hendrickson, Robert Mansolillo, and I rode this bikeway in May 2017. We entered the lighthouse and shed our bike shoes with their metal pedal clips in order to safely climb a narrow, spiral steel staircase to the top of the 59-foot tower. Emerging into the glassed “lens room,” we gazed across a 180-degree view of the Pacific Ocean, beaches, and coastline.

The focal point of the room is the lens itself, an assembly of thick glass surfaces 4 feet, 8 inches in diameter and 6 feet, 8 inches high. A 1,000-watt light bulb beams its signal to all the ships at sea every 18.2 seconds. That wasn’t always the case. Lighthouse keepers James Langlois and James Hughes, the second son of Patrick and Jane Hughes, kept lamps fueled first by lard oil and then mineral oil burning inside the tower from sunset to sunrise for decades. Langlois, namesake of a small, unincorporated town 14 miles to the north, served as head lighthouse keeper for 42 years. Hughes, at first Langlois’s assistant before succeeding his boss, worked there for 37 years. Oil burning ended in 1936 when the lighthouse was electrified.

Winds sweep the headland today. “Will you hold your jacket above your head while I take a picture,” I ask Patti, hoping to capture the wind’s intensity in a single image.

“How’s this?” she yells so she can be heard over the rush of air. Her arm, at a 45-degree angle, isn’t high enough.

“Straight up,” I yell back.

She raises the jacket higher with her right arm and the current immediately pushes it horizontally pointing south. I hear the fabric snap as though it were a flag on a pole. A few seconds later, the wind eases and the jacket slumps then dangles limp. I got the picture.

The gusts make riding a bike on the steep, narrow path between the lighthouse and the road a challenge as it pushes to our right. We pass through a small gate and retrace our route back past the cranberry bogs and grouse, over hills and across small patches of gravel to Highway 101 and our return to Port Orford. The highway slopes downhill. After a three-mile, gravity- and wind-assisted descent, the directional scenic bikeway signs tell us to turn toward the ocean for a leisurely tour to Paradise Point State Recreation Site and then Port Orford Heads State Park. After one more ocean view, we return to Battle Rock and prepare for the four-hour drive home.

Jennifer couldn’t make this trip to the South Coast. I thought it was unusual when she missed our planning meeting in January because she enjoys working through ideas with us. Then, in February, she sent unimaginable news.

“I have been delaying this email, but I wanted to let you all know what is going on with me, so when it comes to bike planning and trips you understand why I am a maybe or a no or not-sure participant,” Jennifer wrote.

She explained that she had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and briefly outlined her chemotherapy schedule. “As you can imagine, this rocked my world to the core. I will try to join you to the best of my ability on shorter rides.”

We’re shocked and saddened yet buoyed by her optimism.

“Chemo is going better than I expected,” she updated us in an April 5 email. “I am not halfway through the process. My energy level is pretty good, but my strength is not great. I ride at least 20 minutes every day—my health ride.”

She remains upbeat and seems encouraged that she’ll be back with us, we tell each other. We would expect nothing less from Jennifer, and we try to stay as positive as we wait to hear more about her recovery.

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

The plan was to ride on Thursday. The route was to be the Cascading Rivers Scenic Bikeway, 71 miles of hills, forests and rambling rivers between Estacada and Detroit Lake in the foothills of the Oregon Cascade Range.

But there were concerns.

First, it had been hot for days. Temperatures in the Willamette Valley, like much the rest of the western United States, were approaching, even touching, 100 degrees. Then there was the smoke that slowly clouded the sky. Watching the morning sun glow blazing red was discouraging.

Where is this smoke coming from? Are there fires on the Cascading Rivers route? What direction in the wind blowing? Would it be safe to ride there?

In the past, several apps would have been checked to compile the air quality, wind direction, and fire locations. But research became much easier on July 30 when the popular cycling navigation platform Ride with GPS announced a new Wildfire layers feature.

Just in time.

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This new screen updates active and contained fires as well as prescribed burns across the United State and Canada. It also includes a five-year history of past events. And it updates every hour with fresh information. Combine it with existing air and wind functions, and a complete picture is created.

“Your Thursday morning ride check is exactly the use case we designed for,” Kevin Prentice, director of business operations at Ride with GPS, told me this week. “The (wildfire layer) tells you where it’s burning and how contained it is. Air quality tells you what you’ll actually be breathing, and wind tells you which way the smoke is headed.

“Toggle all three and you can see a fire 30 miles away, check the wind, and know in seconds whether it matters for your route.”

My check revealed that while the route was flame-free, smoke from the other fires in the region made the air quality unhealthy. We knew temperatures were going to be hot, so we postponed our ride until conditions improved.

The new fire feature, a request from Ride with GPS customers, has been in development since 2024 and is accessible on both desktop and mobile applications, Prentice said.

The July release was well-timed. Wildfires continue to engulf thousands of acres from British Columbia to California. Spokane, Wash., endures three fires alone. The popular Centennial Trail there has burned in two locations.

“We were originally planning to announce (the new feature) in early August and a week before launch we looked at what was burning across the West and said, ‘riders need this now, not in a few weeks,’” Prentice said.

Users can move a sliding bar on the app screen to check conditions as much as 30 hours into the future. Data is refreshed every hour, and active fires stay on the map for a week after their last update before transforming into gray-shaded “historic” fires reports. Those appear for another 5 years.

The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) delivers air quality and wind data. “NOAA’s air quality model only updates twice a day, so 30 hours is the window where we can guarantee there’s reliable data to show for every single hour on the slider,” he said. “Wind data actually goes out much further, but we wanted the time slider to work the same way across both layers.”

Read about the new Wildfire Layer or watch the video.

The Goals
The intent among Ride with GPS planners is to give cyclists the tools they need to make informed decisions about both where and when to ride.

“On a micro level, ‘the sky looks kind of hazy, should I ride?’ (thought process) is not a great way to make a decision,” Prentice said. “Nobody should have to juggle three different websites and a guess to figure out if their Thursday morning ride is safe or if they need to detour their weeklong tour due to poor air quality or fire danger.

“On a macro level, our whole approach to map layers is that more data means safer, more informed decisions,” he continued. “We’re always looking for the next dataset that genuinely helps riders create better routes. And just as importantly, we’re always listening. This layer exists because riders were asking for it and that helps us plan what to build in the future.”

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

I felt jinxed.

An atmospheric river a few years ago washed out our first attempt to summit Honey Run Road. Then, this April, I broke my hand in a freak, low-speed, bike-on-bike mishap at the base of the hill. While the hand certainly hurt, I didn’t know the severity of the injury and I was committed to the ride.

I couldn’t imagine what else would get in my way. I found out soon enough. The ride from Chico to Paradise is first relaxing then demanding, comfortable then frightening. It was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde on asphalt.

My drama was likely the outlier. This is a renowned ride, especially with local cyclists, and it’s one I would have enjoyed under different circumstances. It’s so popular a climb, in fact, that cyclists are discouraged from descending here.

Bob Cortright, our group’s premier climber, uses words like “delightful” and “comfortable” when describing the hill. “It’s wonderful transition from the flatter, open, valley at the bottom to the rocky forested canyon above,” he says. “Oh, and except for a few other cyclists and the occasional hiker, you have this wonderful space all to yourself.”

I only faced two riders as I slowly crept 10 miles up this increasingly steep path through Butte Creek Canyon. While they posed no danger to us, I can understand the concern. These were the only people we saw on a weekday in April. Imagine a peloton on a Saturday or Sunday, each cyclist moving at a different speed.

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Meet Mr. Hyde
Dr. Henry Jekyll, if I may label the first segment, is a mild-mannered 5-miler along quiet, smooth pavement. The road is randomly dotted with ranch-style homes among oaks and open space. The average grade is an undetectable 0.5 percent, according to RidewithGPS.com, and the maximum grade is 3.7 percent. That’s only 185 feet.

I advanced, managing to shift and brake using only the index and middle fingers of my right hand. No problem, I assured myself.

Then came Mr. Edward Hyde, the cruel alter ego that presents malice for all. He rises 1,300 feet up the canyon in the final 5 miles. He averages 4.7 percent and maxes out at 9.9. At his worst, he is a ribbon of narrow, gnarled, graffiti-painted curves and switchbacks that keep you worrying about what he has in store for you around the next bend.

Mr. Hyde had hold of me, pressing against my heaving lungs. The hand throbbed so I stopped often to drink and recommit, each time assuring myself I would make it to Paradise.

I did.

The Wildflower Century
Most everyone who has participated in the local Wildflower Century is aware of Honey Run Road. The event, staged each spring by the Chico Velo bike club, features multiple distances. Cyclists who ride 66 miles or more face this climb.

They start from Chico and make their way toward Butte Creek Canyon, briefly following a short path and passing under a gateway fashioned to look like bike cogs. This is the Steve Harrison Memorial Bikeway, honoring the Sierra Nevada Brewery Co. executive and longtime community bicycling advocate who passed away in 2007. Steve was a central figure in the local bike club’s early days.

The popular path quickly meets Honey Run Road and eventually the canyon. The rugged terrain becomes visible once riders say goodbye to Dr. Jekyll and dramatically tilt uphill. Scarred reminders of the deadly Camp Fire remain. The inferno scorched the canyon and the city of Paradise in 2018. More than 150,000 acres burned, 52,000 people evacuated the area, 9,000 homes were destroyed, and 85 lives were lost. The city of Paradise was devastated.

I visited Paradise once before, years ago, but I had not returned since the fire. My memory held images of a small town tucked beneath the high branches of cedars, oaks, and Ponderosa pines. I arrived at the top of Honey Run Road this time to find a city rebuilt.

Why Honey Run?
Local residents don’t all agree on Honey Run Road’s origin story. Some believe it’s a metaphor describing the lucrative California Gold Rush era. Others say past generations likened the road’s slow twists and turns to honey flowing downhill.

For me, neither applied. Instead, this was a test of perseverance. Honey Run Road was my demon, my Mr. Hyde. I survived; withstanding all he placed in my way.

Sitting outside a local diner, I iced my hand and decided not to attempt a descent down Pentz Road. I gingerly racked the bike on our SAG vehicle and changed shoes.

I hope to return and meet Mr. Hyde again; this time I’ll be ready for him.

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

A green banner that stretched above an entrance to Holladay Park in downtown Portland marked the finish line, the final pedal strokes of a two-day, 207-mile journey that in hindsight was much more rewarding than I had ever anticipated.

Spectators at the end of the Seattle to Portland Bicycle Classic (STP) - families, event staff, and volunteers - lined each side of the fenced chute clanging cowbells, waving signs, and cheering each arrival. They didn’t know me, yet their encouragement was emotionally moving. It was also validating.

I spoke with many bicyclists during this July weekend. Several were newcomers like me. Others were riding their 8^th, 15^th, even 28^th STP. Completing the route was an achievement, yet everyone seemed equally committed to the camaraderie, the idea that more than 6,000 people could do this together.

And in the process, I’ve joined their ranks.

Since my return, friends have been asking questions. Some are already thinking about STP 2027. Here’s what I’m saying.

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A Misconception
I had been warned by several STP veterans that the first miles would be congested, even dangerous as bunched riders crowded Seattle’s city streets. I had no problem. Staggered starts of 80 to 100 riders allowed us plenty of space to safely roll away for a pleasure ride across town, onto residential roads, along the Lake Washington shoreline and into the countryside.

Degree of Difficulty
Organizers told me months ago that my biggest concerns would be my “mind and behind.” The mental aspect proved inconsequential and while my butt hurt, it was tolerable when I found ways to distract myself. Time and miles clipped by, perhaps because I was focused on my ride strategy.

Little was said about the endurance required to ride 102 miles from Seattle to Centralia one day and pedaling another 105 to Portland the next day. Even less was mentioned about elevation gain measured at 2,217 feet on Day 1 and 2,631 on Day 2, according to RidewithGPS.com.

That doesn’t seem like much when spread across so many miles. Still, there are hills to address. The most notable may be at mile marker 44: Puyallup Hill, 2.3 miles with 400 feet of gain. I was psychologically prepared after researching the road using Google Street View. I knew the first crest was not the last crest and when others audibly moaned as the road continued to tilt up, I was mentally geared for more.

There were many other small hills; this was not a flat route. But for every climb up there’s a glide down.

A Meal and a Good Night’s Rest
While some riders completed the full distance in one day, most stopped somewhere near Centralia. Food trucks at Centralia College, the official midway point, provided pay-as-you-go sustenance. A celebratory Day 1 drink was purchased at the adjacent beer garden.

Overnight bags, trucked in from Seattle, were retrieved. Some riders slept in tents, others found space on nearby church and school floors. I booked a hotel room a mile from the college campus. With a good night’s sleep, my bag was back on the truck by 5:30 a.m. and I was rolling again.

The Gruppettos
My ride strategy focused on survival. Don’t push too hard and average 10 miles each hour factoring in rest stops. It was a good plan. Faster speeds, drafting opportunities, downhills, and my better-than-anticipated fitness allowed more time to relax at each stop. I was on pace.

This strategy, however, precluded much social intersection.

I was riding alone, but I had the Gruppettos.

In Italian, gruppetto translates to small group. Those familiar with professional cycling know that a gruppetto, also called an autobus, is a cluster of riders who have fallen off the peloton and decide to ride together to the finish line.

Here in Seattle, it means the Gruppetto Cycling Club, friends and family with a shared love of bikes. Gabe Castillo, founder and organizer of this merry band, invited me to join 11 members and ride out of town together. We met at 5 a.m. in a University of Washington parking lot and enjoyed a peaceful start.

I had opportunities to ride with them throughout the weekend, but I let them pull away as I stayed with my plan. Along the way, however, I discovered that the Gruppettos had their own independent rest stops. I sought out the Gruppetto banner flapping in the breeze at each stop and enjoyed their lavish tailgate-style aid stations. Mimi Castillo, Gabe’s sister, and friends have been providing this road support since 2007.

“Over the years, our support team has spoiled us,” Gabe told me. “I have encouraged Mimi to take it down a notch or two when it comes to food and amenities, but she keeps doing it. It’s in her DNA.”

The Gruppettos were not alone. Several groups set up their own rest stops. One club even travels with its own SAG wagon stocked with hydration, food, and spare parts.

Imagine a cold, soaked towel placed on your head during a warm afternoon break and a table spread with food to fuel the rest of the day’s ride. I began looking forward to the Gruppetto stops and what Mimi had prepared for us.

The Home Stretch
A long ribbon of riders left the city of Longview, crossed the steel cantilever Lewis and Clark Bridge over the Columbia River, and began the final 52-mile march to downtown Portland, the Rose City. The first 43 miles followed U.S. 30, a roller coaster of rises and dips that tested a cyclist’s patience more than the legs.

Highway 30 is a major travel corridor between coastal communities and the metro area, and while I was leery about riding on the road shoulder, I eventually became oblivious to passing cars and trucks. Motorists kept to the far-left lane, for the most part, while I stayed on the shoulder. Passing other bikes became routine. Check my mirror. Wait for a safe opening. Shout “passing on your left” and go.

It all became routine, and I was surprised to suddenly arrive at Portland’s St. Johns Bridge. One more river crossing and the end was only 9 miles away.

Would I Do It Again?
Yes.

Set aside for a moment the personal accomplishment, the satisfaction of achieving what I once thought was impossible. The Seattle to Portland Bicycle Classic is not designed to be ridden in relative solitude. This is best experienced with others.

Perhaps next year.

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

I’m aboard Amtrak Cascades No. 504 today, watching Oregon flicker outside my window like an old movie. Trees, fence posts, and stop signs near the tracks quickly click past one by one. The real picture, the farms and fields in the background, remain in sharp focus.

Bob Cortright and I are rolling toward Seattle where 6,000 cyclists will set out very early tomorrow morning on a two-day, 207-mile bike ride to Portland. Our bikes are hanging in the baggage car occupying two of 10 hooks set aside for pedaling travelers. Small backpacks are at our side.

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We’ll arrive at King Street Station this afternoon, retrieve the bikes, and walk over to the station’s Sounder light rail platform. There we’ll board another train, this one bound for the University of Washington campus and one night’s stay in a college dormitory.

Then, before sunrise tomorrow, we’ll be at the start line for the Cascade Bicycle Club’s 47^th Seattle to Portland Bicycle Classic. Our bags will be in a baggage truck for our retrieval at Centralia College 100 miles down the road.

I’m ready for this. So says the cheerleader inside my head that guards against discouraging thoughts. Forget the setbacks, forget the broken hand that disrupted my meticulously planned training schedule. Focus on the positives.

The scene outside my train window reminds me of my limited, yet fruitful preparation. Each passing filbert grove, grass seed field, and hopyard is a visual reminder of my recent distance rides through the Willamette Valley, rides that evoke the stimulating intangibles of cycling.

Independence Day
It’s 6:30 a.m. on Saturday, July 4. I’m alone with the road and my thoughts. The morning air is cool, and I’m fully aware that oppressive heat will attempt to wilt my resolve before my final 80^th mile. Such thoughts are shoved aside, replaced with the dulcet sound of National Public Radio’s Scott Simon calmly talking to me through my open-ear, bone conduction headset. He’s my morning voice most Saturdays; he’s my riding partner today.

I want to tell him about the field of aromatic red clover to my left and the stacks of hives nearby where bees deposit the clover’s nectar. Then, less than 100 yards down the road, I pass fresh mint with a sweetness that overtakes thoughts of clover.

Can you smell that, Scott?

I have these rural roads to myself. It’s too early for traffic. It’s a weekend. It’s a national holiday. No one should be driving at this hour.

My perspective shifts as I pass farms where parked cars line dirt roads and workers bend over bushes to hand pick the blueberries I so enjoy in my morning oatmeal. This is not a paid day off for them. They are hard at work.

I want to stop and thank them. Instead, I slow to give space for a car leaving the area. I share a cyclist’s wave, the driver gestures back. We go our separate ways.

I Am the Parade
My route weaves along the outskirts of Silverton and over the historic Gallon House Bridge, a century-old, covered bridge that draws its name from the Prohibition era. Here’s where bootleggers would do business by the bridge, pouring illegal alcohol into gallon jugs for eager consumers.

I give little thought to history as I glide down a slight grade, sweep around a tree-lined bend, pass a home with its manicured yard, and roll across bridge’s wooden roadway. I pop out the other side and continue down the road. Those 30 seconds always make me smile.

I eventually arrive in tiny Mount Angel where local citizens are adjusting lawn chairs along residential and downtown streets for their annual Fourth of July parade. The procession has not begun but I randomly choose side streets to avoid roads closures. Suddenly, I find myself on the route itself, collecting bewildered glances. What is this guy doing? Why is he riding a bike painted Italian red, white, and green on the day for red, white, and blue?

I exchange waves with a mother and her daughter. More hands motion my way. For a fleeting moment, I’m their distraction.

I Will Get By
I pedal on, collecting my miles and eventually returning to Salem’s Riverfront Park. My final training session is complete.

This was an invigorating reminder of why I like cycling. Fresh air. Friendly faces. Fragrant crops. A whirling bike chain. The sound of rubber rolling on pavement. A gentle breeze. Downhill glides. Invigorating exercise.

And solitude. Riding with friends is welcome, of course, but I enjoy being alone with my thoughts and the focus this time was on physical and mental preparation.

I’m now confident I can complete my STP challenge. Will it be easy? No, but I will get by. I will survive. And I’ll have Scott Simon starting with me on another Saturday ride.

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

The cool morning air rushes over my face as I hurry from my hotel toward Sacramento’s Discovery Park. I’m meeting Brandon Darnell for an easy ride today, 32 miles along the American River Bike Trail. It’s a flat, smooth ride with only one short climb by Folsom Lake.

A Note: This post comes from the Why We Ride vault while I train for this month’s 206-mile Seattle to Portland Bicycle Classic. I return with new content later this month.

This is Day 1 during a weeklong Northern California cycling tour and I want to get my legs moving. I’ve known about the American River Trail for years. For 18 months, in fact, I lived barely a mile from the trail, yet I never took a spin along this well-maintained hike-and-bike path. Today’s finally the day.

Brandon is my guide. Full disclosure: He’s the marketing director for Visit Sacramento, the local tourism marketing organization. He’s also an avid cyclist and regularly rides this trail. We move away from Discovery Park and head east, and I quickly realize why he and many others like to follow the river here.

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The waters of the American River originate in the Sierra Nevada, flowing west in three forks until the water temporarily collects at Folsom Lake, a reservoir since 1955. There’s plenty of whitewater rafting above the lake. For us bike riders downstream, the river creates a lazy, meandering backdrop until it eventually joins the Sacramento River at Discovery Park.

More than 5 million people use the American River Parkway, “the “jewel of Sacramento,” each year, according to Sacramento County, and most of them are riding, jogging, or walking on the bike trail. Some use it to commute to work or school. It’s easy to understand why. The trail passes by Sacramento State University. We’re minutes from urban life; traffic on U.S. Highway 50 rushes just to the south, out of sight and earshot.

Here, beside the river in the shade with a gentle breeze and a river view, city life is far from our thoughts.

“One of my favorite aspects of the trail is how quickly you can leave the hustle and bustle of the city behind and be in nature,” Brandon says as we sip from water bottles and stare across the water.

“As you pass along the trail, you see a variety of scenery from parks to wooded areas, a few open grassy stretches, and lots of trees,” he says. “I frequently spot turkeys, deer, coyotes, and other wildlife along the trail.”

A few miles later, we come to a bend in the trail. On our left, a flock of sheep tends to tall grass. On the right, goats do the same. They graze, we watch. Other riders stop and do the same.

Easy Access
The American River Bike Trail, which is officially named but rarely referred to as the Jedediah Smith Memorial Trail, is easily accessible from more than 10 locations throughout the area. The Guy West Bridge, a footbridge designed to look like the Golden Gate Bridge, connects the trail with the university campus.

The Sacramento Regional Transit’s light rail Gold Line extends from downtown Sacramento to Folsom and occasionally passes near the trail. It runs almost parallel from Watt Avenue east with 12 stops before arriving in Folsom.

The trail also passes through local parks where riders can find restrooms, water fountains, and occasionally bike repair stations.

Loops, Detours and Stops
Other trail options branch off along the way, notably the 2.5-mile Sacramento River Bike Trail from Old Sacramento and the 2.75-mile Johnny Cash Trail out of Folsom. The main path’s Lake Natoma Loop provides two ways to reach Folsom and a change of scenery for those riding out and back.

Brandan says cyclists like to divert from River Bend Park and ride to Belle Bru Café, almost a mile up Arden Way. It’s a popular place to sit on the patio, have coffee, and perhaps enjoy something to eat.

The Sacramento State Aquatic Center at Lake Natoma provides an appealing place to rest, eat, and drink in the shade. There’s a vending machine and a water bottle refill station.

The Only Climb
Rested, fueled, and ready, Branden and I roll away from the aquatic center and arrive in historic downtown Folsom 5 miles later. We safely ride along the two-way bike lane separated from vehicle traffic on Leidesdorff Street and return to the paved trail three blocks and two street slights later. We now begin the only mentionable elevation gain of the day – barely 300 feet over 3.7 miles.

Folsom Lake is at the top of the climb. We take a few pictures and call it a day. We decide to glide down the same 300 feet to Folsom’s Sociology Coffee Bar and much-deserved pastries and coffee.

Bike Rentals and Services
It’s easy to find a ride if you’re visiting while the bike is at home. Several shops in town rent bikes. Peak Adventures, on the Sacramento State campus, is less than a quarter mile from the Guy West Bridge. They offer bike rentals and repairs. peakadventures.org

Neighborhood Bike Shop has several locations in town, including one in the same shopping plaza as Belle Bru Café. Bike rentals and repairs also are available here. neighborhoodbikeshop.com

Things To Do Off the Bike
Professional Baseball – Sutter Health Park, just across the bridge in West Sacramento, is accessible by bike. This is home to the Sacramento River Cats, the AAA affiliate of the San Francisco Giants. It’s the temporary home of Major League Baseball’s Athletics for three years (2025-2027) while a new ballpark is being built in Las Vegas.

Crocker Art Museum – This local institution offers three floors of diverse creativity including one of the nation's largest collections of international ceramics, a leading display of California art, and an ever-changing list of exhibitions. Consider riding there; you’ll find bike racks at the museum’s main entrance.

California Capitol Building – Visit the Capitol Museum for a unique perspective on state history. Tour guides can also lead you through the building. Sign up at the information desk, but first check the website because hours are subject to change.

Visitor Information
Check the Visit Sacramento website for complete information on restaurant and drink establishments, things to do, and upcoming local events. You can also request a free visitor guide on the website.

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

I was 35 miles into a half-century ride last week when that inevitable numbing, nagging pain worked its way from the backside to the brain.

I hurt, just as I knew it would.

Loyal readers know I intend to ride the Seattle to Portland Bicycle Classic (STP) in mid-July, the 206-mile roll south across Washington State to the Columbia River. That’s two days of pedaling, something I have never attempted.

I had a plan to train my mind for the monotony and my behind for the many hours of pressure on my ischial tuberosities, the bones that absorb weight while perched atop the saddle. The sit bones.

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My training began in mid-April during a California cycling trip, but it came to an abrupt halt on April 18 when I broke my right hand in a freak bike accident. Surgery followed. With my doctor’s permission and an admonition — “just don’t fall” — I returned to the bike earlier this month. I tested the hand with a 30-mile spin outside Baker City, Oregon, and all was well.

I was optimistic two days later when I joined Bike Rides Northwest in Walla Walla, Wash., for the start of its five-day Bike Camp Walla Walla event. The hand survived unscathed but the sit bones sent a different message: Stop it. Stop it now!

I now have four weeks to prepare for long days on the saddle. I’m increasing my time on the bike, riding on back-to-back days, and using chamois cream to reduce friction. I’ve been wearing Castelli’s Cento bibs for two years and recently added a pair of Endurance 4 shorts for thicker padding.

The thicker the better, I thought. In fact, I want padding like the pros wear.

Curiosity taking hold, I wanted to understand the difference between my two pairs of shorts. I met with Steve Chapin, general manager for Castelli Cycling US, in his Portland office, and he distilled it all down for me with this revelation: Professional cyclists such as the Soudal Quick-Step World Tour team, wear the same padding I do.

“We have gender-specific pads, but we have 2 road pads and a tri pad (for triathletes),” Steve says. “The KISS pad and the Progetto X2 Air Seamless, which I describe as more plush with more padding. That being said, we don’t distinguish between better and worse.”

He points to the world tour team. “(The riders) are about 50/50 in terms of which pads they prefer,” he said. “Some like a thicker pad and some like a less-thick pad, so they’re both designed to perform and be extremely comfortable. It’s just a question of do you like a little bit more padding?”

The Right Fit
Let’s review the basic principles.

- Bib shorts, bike pants with suspender-like straps, can be evaluated in two parts. There are the Lycra or Spandex pants and the padding, or chamois, which is stitched inside. For this conversation, I am focusing on the chamois.

- Different chamois have different thicknesses, of course, but the basic concept is the same. The fabric closest to the skin is designed to wick moisture and feel soft against the body. The padding provides more cushion while sitting on the bike and, at the same time, reduces friction and chafing.

- Chamois designed for high-mileage rides may include gel or gel-foam inserts. Gel is thinner and denser than foam and therefore provides more support in less space.

- Fit is everything. If the shorts are too big, the chamois will move and chafe.

Looking at a diagram, Steve explained the Progetto X2 construction. “This is the skin layer,” he said, pointing to the black-and-red moisture wicking surface fabric. “The idea here is two-fold. It’s supposed to be as comfortable as possible in contact with the skin, and it also manages moisture. We want it to be breathable.”Gel inserts are placed within foam padding to provide added comfort whether “you’re going for 30-minute or a 30-hour bike ride,” he said. “Those gels go directly underneath your sit bones and then right in the perineum to give you a little bit more comfort where you need comfort. The idea is to not unnecessary overbuild the pad.”

Throughout his explanation, Steve talks about performance, but I remind him that I am not a pro cyclist. I’m not svelte. I’m not aero.

“No, absolutely, and that’s how you define performance,” he said. “A single discipline like aerodynamics is incredibly important for some folks and incredibly important for our racers and our teams, but you’re not as concerned with aerodynamics. There are still aspects of comfort in performance. How do we create a product that has the right amount of stretch that’s still fitting given a variety of body shapes and sizes? How do we create a product that has the best moisture management capability? So, whether you’re going 13 miles an hour or 26 miles an hour, it can still work for you.”

I like my Progetto X2 chamois. And as I add more and more miles, I feel the saddle pressure less and less. With STP less than a month away, I’m growing confident I’ll sit through 206 miles.

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

I confess. I’m sometimes leery while cycling on the Oregon Coast Bike Route. I’ve seen stretches where the two-lane road is so narrow that I wince when a recreational vehicle squeezes around a curve.

And I’ve also savored miles of Highway 101 with road shoulders so wide they appear as wide as a full traffic lane. Nothing concerns me there as I flow with a tailing sea breeze along on the South Coast.

I share both my trepidation and unbridled exhilaration as the Oregon Department of Transportation (ODOT) prepares for next week’s release of its Oregon Coast Bicycle Route map, a refreshed edition loaded with updated maps and information about the 365-mile course.

Ian Davidson, ODOT’s bicycle and pedestrian program manager, met me this week at a downtown Salem coffee shop to discuss the route, the map, and the transportation department’s overarching goal to make cycling safer. A awareness campaign is being launched to remind motorists how they can safely share the road with people on bikes.

It all takes place on June 11 in celebration of the 55^th anniversary of the state’s first-of-its-kind “bike bill.”

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A little background: The Oregon Bike Bill, which passed in 1971, requires that at least 1 percent of money spent on any highway project be dedicated to bicycle and pedestrian infrastructure. With sidewalk and bike lane improvements included in every project, the state has since become known as a cycling-friendly state.

More than 40 years later, 2012 to be exact, a study showed Oregon had become a cycling destination. Here were two key findings by the research group, Dean Runyan Associates: Bicycle recreation was a motivating factor for 1.2 million trips here that year, and bicycle tourism accounted for more than $400 million in tourism spending.

Referencing that survey, Ian logically concluded that “I expect that number is much larger more than a decade later.”

“This map invites people on bicycles to experience Oregon’s stunning coastal landscape,” he said, “while providing essential information for a safe and enjoyable trip.”

The state’s safety initiative, meanwhile, reminds drivers to slow down, give riders extra space, and be patient while passing. ODOT’s safety campaign includes billboard messaging along major travel corridors and popular coastal routes to help educate travelers about safely sharing the road.

Following the Oregon Coast
Anyone who has ridden or driven Highway 101 has seen the ever-changing landscape as they passed by. The Oregon Coast’s diverse geography – wide, sandy beaches alternating with high shoreline peaks, thick forests, and even sand dunes – becomes an evolving postcard image.

The new map, an updated version of the 2017 edition, explains in detail how to travel from Astoria to Brookings, from the Columbia River to the California line. Four sub-maps locate state parks and amenities, and note where to find campgrounds, dedicated hiker/biker camping, yurts, cabins, and hot showers.

Other map markers point out federal Bureau of Land Management and U.S. Forest Service camping, lighthouses, wildlife viewing areas, covered bridges, summits, and alternate route options.

And, of course, there are elevation profiles.

Most importantly, road lines are color-accented to indicate both wide and narrow road shoulders. And while it’s still narrow in some places, ODOT is working to improve as many tight spots as possible over time.

“Using the bike bill (funding), we’ve widened the shoulder in places like Yachats (along the Central Coast),” Ian said. “We put in vertical delineators there, too.”

In other places, longstanding safety strategies are still in play. Blinking caution lights, for example, are employed at tunnels and narrow bridges to warn motorists that bicyclists are ahead.

These locations are pinpointed on the map as well.

Click here to request a map.

Economic Motivation
The bike route is there for cyclists to experience and enjoy the Oregon Coast. It’s also there for local communities. Much like the state’s 18 official scenic bikeways, the route is an economic driver for rural communities along the way.

“We want to improve Highway 101,” Ian said. “But thinking about it holistically, there are multiple benefits beyond just improving our infrastructure. We can think about economic development and the livability in those social communities as well.

“We have thousands of people, likely tens of thousands of people, riding the Oregon Coast Bike Route, in whole or in part, and they’re frequenting local businesses, which is wonderful,” he said. “We want to be able to support that, too.”

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

Note: This is a new post in my “Breakdown” series which takes a closer look at featured cycling routes throughout California and the Pacific Northwest.

There are few climbs in the Pacific Northwest as accessible and popular as McKenzie Pass in Oregon’s central Cascade Range. It’s a bucket list ride for some, an annual tradition for others.

There are three ways to scale the mountain along Highway 242, the McKenzie Highway, and all three have their rewards. One can ride up the western slope through the Willamette National Forest and turn around at the summit. Another option is to start in downtown Sisters and make an easier ascent up the eastern side before returning to town.

The third and most challenging is to go 38 miles one way up, over and down, take a break, and then reverse for a repeat in the opposite direction.

I’ve gone all three ways and while I have my preferences, all three are worthy challenges.

When to Ride
This route is called the McKenzie Pass Scenic Bikeway, one of 18 state cycling routes that represent the best in Oregon bicycling. Snow closes the McKenzie Highway each year, typically in late October or early November, and the road remains closed until the Oregon Department of Transportation (ODOT) swings open the gates on the third Monday in June.

Some cyclists, however, don’t wait and they start pedaling as soon as the snow is gone. Don’t be surprised to see hundreds of cyclists streaming up and down the eastern slope on a May or June weekend.

(Video provided by the Oregon Department of Transportation)

But this rogue riding frustrates ODOT officials who stress that bypassing locked gates and warning signs is not safe. “There is little snow at this point, but we still have work to clear winter debris such as downed trees, rocks and limbs,” spokesperson Mindy McCartt told me today (May 29). “The McKenzie Highway closure is in place so crews can safely complete the work needed to prepare (the highway) for reopening.”

(For more on this issue, see “The McKenzie Pass Conundrum”)

ODOT is not an enforcement agency and will not patrol the road. They count on cyclists to use good judgment. So the next decision focuses on how to approach the day. Here are some ideas.

Option 1: Sisters to Sisters
This is the most popular choice. The city of Sisters creates an excellent launching point and a perfect place for a post-ride celebration. It’s also the least taxing effort. That’s because the city, at 3,189 feet elevation, is higher than Belknap Springs, the western start at 1,670 feet. Simply put, it’s a shorter push to the summit’s 5,325-foot elevation.

The 15 miles to the top feature Central Oregon’s well-known high desert landscape – scrub brush and ponderosa pines – before the trees eventually yield to the jagged basalt rock that blankets the mountaintop. The highway cuts a narrow path through the basalt, which originated as lava flowing from local volcanoes more than 1,300 years ago.

The eastern slope ascent.

Downhill from the summit toward Sisters.

The road surface, repaved in 2024, remains smooth two years later and provides one of the sleekest, fastest descents one can hope to find.

RidewithGPS.com rates this as an “HC” climb, primarily because of the distance and grade of the climb. (Here’s an explanation.)

The term hors catégorie or “HC” is used by the Union Cycliste Internationale (UCI), the international governing organization for professional cycling, to grade hills. The UCI rates roads based on a formula that scales degrees of difficulty. A Category 4 is easiest, and a “Cat” 1 is really hard. An HC status – hors catégorie in French means beyond categorization – is the most difficult, with measurements so extreme that they exceed the official scale.

The key resource in Sisters is Eurosports bike shop a block from Village Green City Park and the start of the scenic bikeway. Food trucks and cold drinks are available there.

Option 2: Belknap Springs and the Western Slope
There’s a risk/reward when ascending the western slope.

First, the benefits. The ride twists and turns for miles through a deep, shaded forest of Douglas fir before finally breaking across the tree line and finishing among the basalt rocks. And as fast as the descent is on the Sisters side, the westside ride back down to Belknap Springs is longer, faster, and technical. All that equals more enjoyment.

The disadvantage? It’s a longer, harder, steeper lift.

How much harder? The climb, also rated HC, is nearly 23 miles to the top with 3,860 feet of gain.

I prefer this side of the mountain because I love riding in the trees and it’s a thrill to glide back down. I temper each climb with frequent water breaks and photo opportunities. That’s my excuse, at least.

The route starts at the modest junction of Highway 126 and Belknap Hot Springs Road, the entrance to Belknap Hot Springs lodge and cabins.

A side note: The Aufderheide Scenic Bikeway terminus is located 9 miles west of this spot on Highway 126.

Early miles start flat and then gradually tilt up, allowing the legs time to warm up. But by the 10-mile mark, muscles are feeling the full effect. The slope starts to level off after about 15 miles, but the climb never ends until the summit and the Dee Wright Observatory parking lot.

The return trip is one of joys of Oregon cycling. It’s a fast, twisting course back through the forest. Grab the brakes and go for it but stay in the right lane at all times. Bikes are navigating uphill and motor vehicles join in from mid-June on.

Descending the western slope toward Belknap Springs.

Option 3: Over and Back Over Again
This is a serious effort. 76 miles, two HC climbs, and more than 6,000 feet of elevation gain. Plan carefully before deciding which slope to attack first. There are no services and no water on this route.

There are several places to eat, drink, and rest in Sisters if that’s the turnaround location. But beware if you start east to west. Food and drink at Belknap Hot Springs are limited with inconsistent hours of operation. Check the website for details.

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

Here’s an exception to the norm.

Bike-pedestrian trails tend to be flat, meandering paths often along a waterways that are suitable for walkers, joggers, and casual bicyclists alike. And while these comfortable, paved routes throughout California and the Pacific Northwest deserve one’s attention, they rarely provide much of a physical challenge.

The American River Trail between Sacramento and Folsom comes to mind. So do the Row River Trail in Oregon, the Olympic Discovery Trail in Washington, and the Lochside Regional Trail in British Columbia. All have merits, and are worth a casual ride.

The Sacramento River Trail in Redding, by contrast, is a dramatic change worth exploring.

Our group recently completed a seven-day, seven-ride California tour working our way from Santa Barbara north toward Oregon. I added the Sacramento River Trail as an easy, final excursion to finish the tour. But I underestimated what was ahead.

I didn’t believe the data. While the elevation profile showed a steep, pronounced climb up to Shasta Dam, I was mystified how we could accumulate 1,269 feet of total gain riding out and back between Redding and Lake Shasta.

Once on the bike, I found clarity. Small bumps started to add up early on. Then there’s a spot – Heart Rate Hill – that left no doubt. We climbed more than 250 feet in a .7-mile stretch where the grade averaged 7 percent and maxed out at 11. And a final push to the top of the dam completed the puzzle.

Add an exhilarating descent to start the return, and the Sacramento River Trail ranks a spectacular destination ride. For every pulse-pounding pedal stroke up the trail, there’s a swift downhill. Hilltop vistas were balanced with flat riverside cruising.

This late tour add-on easily became a highlight of our week in the Golden State. I’m ready to go again.

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The Start
We packed the SAG wagon on a Sunday morning after a restful overnight at the Americana Modern Hotel, a restyled mid-century motor inn on Redding’s north side. We appreciated the hotel’s proximity to several viable restaurant options the night before. Come morning, we enjoyed our opening 1-plus miles along quiet city streets toward Turtle Bay Exploration Park, the stunning Sundial Bridge, and the Sacramento River Trailhead.

We crossed the bridge, a local landmark designed by acclaimed international architect Santiago Calatrava, within minutes of leaving the motel and headed up the trail. After calling “on your left” for a handful of morning walkers, we escaped the foot traffic and rolled up the river.

The trail roller-coastered in short intervals. I could feel the elevation numbers adding up.

Trail History
This is actually two trails in one. The river trail starts at the Sundial Bridge and connects with the historic rail portion at Keswick Dam only 5 miles away. It’s a relatively seamless merger but look for the trail to continue on the far side of the dam parking lot. Combined, the two parts create a 17.7-mile, one-way ride to Shasta Dam.

Note that the two routes were 2023 co-inductees into the Rails to Trails Conservancy’s Hall of Fame.

The route crosses the 6,000-year ancestral homeland of the Winnemem Wintu tribe, and a region where copper, gold, silver, and zinc were extracted in the late 1800s and early 1900s. That’s where the rails proved helpful.

The Route
There’s a little of everything here – two bridges, two dams, a tunnel, twisting paths, flat riverside stretches, challenges here and there, and a climactic ascent. Watch for the concrete-and-cable Sacramento River Trail Bridge just past Mile 4. Cross the bridge, turn right, and follow the pavement as you look down on the ambling river below.

Once you’ve completed Heart Right Hill, brace for a serpentine segment that repeatedly rises and falls with steep grades before finally flattening out alongside the river. It’s peaceful here. The mind may wander as the wheels roll along but be attentive. This is a popular circuit for local riders. Don’t be surprised to see a club peloton breeze toward you.

Then there’s a 1920s-era tunnel, a small-gauge opening – 16 feet wide and almost 500 feet long – that served the mining industry in its day. Now it’s merely about 30 seconds of complete darkness.

The trail eventually merges with Coram Road at the 15.8-mile mark and soon begins its rigorous 1.5-mile, 468-foot climb to the top of the Shasta Dam. The average grade is 5 percent, the maximum grade is 9 percent, and the personal satisfaction once reaching the top is 100 percent.

The Return
After our brief walk atop the Shasta Dam crest for a beautiful view of canyon below, it was time for us to remount and reverse the route. The slow Coram Road uphill became our sleek descent. The pavement, smooth and fast, invited us to take full advantage of each curve’s apex.

Once back on the trail, we traveled along the now-familiar route aware of what awaited us around each bend. And Heart Rate Hill? It was simply another delicious glide toward the Sundial Bridge.

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

I didn’t plan to take a break. I didn’t plan to break anything.

I anticipated a Substack bye week earlier this month while our research team traveled through California for seven days looking for great cycling routes. But then, with only two days remaining, a bike mishap left me with a broken hand, a break of the distal fifth metacarpal. It’s what doctors call a boxer’s fracture.

It was a fluke accident. I didn’t even know the bone was broken and I continued on, riding for two more days and 45 miles. Once home, however, X-rays told the truth.

Now it hurts to type these words, so I’ll keep this short.

I’m using this downtime to line up some destination posts and start building a new “Why We Ride” feature that I call breakdowns. In each article, I dissect selected routes with segmented maps, photos, detailed descriptions, and perhaps a video. The goal is to tell you what you can expect on a specific route. You can calculate your own degree of difficulty based on the information.

These breakdowns will also note services along the way, places to get a drink or something to eat. And I’ll answer the most important question of all – where to find restrooms. My goal is add detail and insight to the directional maps found online.

Here’s a prototype from last summer.

I Want to Ride My Bicycle

I hear Freddie Mercury on ear worm replay.

“I want to ride my bicycle. I want to ride my bike.”

That’s my mantra. I intend to resume riding as quickly as my doctor allows. I need the saddle time. My busy summer calendar includes June rides in Eastern Oregon and Walla Walla, Wash., and the Seattle to Portland Bicycle Classic in July.

And I’ll get back to writing even before I return to the road.

Thanks for your patience.

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

Note: This article originally appeared in February 2025. It is reposted here with updated information for 2026.

This story began several years ago in a Santa Rosa breakfast diner. I was talking with Steve Saxe, president of the local bike club, about destinations we’ve enjoyed when he asked this question.

“You’re from Oregon. Have you ever ridden the Tour de Fronds?”

The tour de what?

It’s a ride into the tall Douglas firs, a marvelous trip deep into the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest, Steve explained. There are miles and miles of quiet roads, narrow roads.

Steve was not alone. Tracy Corral, my longtime editor at Cycle California!, also encouraged me to go. It’s one of the Pacific Northwest’s best event rides, she said. More people need to experience it.

I eventually arrived in Powers, Oregon, (population 710) in June 2024 ready for the experience. Here’s what I found.

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Four Things That Matter
I evaluate a bike route based on natural beauty, safety, event organization, and physical challenge. I want to be tested in a stunning location without worrying about traffic. I also appreciate a well-managed event with a cadre of local volunteer support before, during, and after the tour. And I always embrace any ride that prompts me to stop and appreciate my surroundings.

There’s plenty to appreciate among the fronds of the Oregon Coast Range.

I selected the Eden Valley metric century route and quickly realized this would be a special day when the road’s center stripe disappeared after only 5.5 miles. South Powers Road, with only minimal traffic, morphed into Forest Road 33 as riders entered the national forest.

The rest of the day was spent listening to the sounds of the South Fork of the Coquille River as its water babbled toward Bandon and the Pacific Ocean, watching dappled sunlight slip between the evergreens lining the roadway, and seeing the ferns – the fronds – wiggle in the gentle, morning breeze.

“You’re biking through a lush, peaceful forest,” Steve would say later. “Warm or cool, dry or wet, riding there refreshes the soul.”

Get Ready to Climb
Organizers sometimes call it “TdF,” and like an international event with the same acronym, the Tour de Fronds is unforgettable. All five rides tis year follow out-and-back routes, climbing into the hills before turning around and descending back to town. It’s not all a grind; there are pleasant stretches where it's easy to think more about where you’re riding than how well you’re doing it.

There are five paved routes from which to choose. Daphne Grove totals 30 miles and 2,000 of elevation gain. The others are Agness Pass (45 miles, 3,700 feet), Eden Valley (63 miles, 3,900 feet), Arrastra Saddle (77 miles, 5,900 feet, and 2026 Cruiser Loop (117, miles and a grueling10,200 feet).

A 71-mile mixed gravel/pavement has been scratched for 2026.

“Daphne Grove is very popular,” says event coordinator Donna Freemen. “Many are local riders that come for a great day in our great outdoors. It is also popular with couples where one likes a greater challenge and the other needs a shorter ride. People hang out at Daphne Grove enjoying the day by the river as they wait for the hardy rider to return.”

My work on Eden Valley started in earnest once the route left the river in the 17th mile. That’s where the route ramped up 1,200 feet in 6 miles along extremely narrow forest roads. I was alone in the wilderness much of the time occasionally catching a rider, often getting caught. I didn’t mind.

The final 8.5 miles to a turn-around rest stop were flat and easy.

The returning descent was not fast. Tall trees blocked the sunlight making occasional mini-potholes difficult to see. These, after all, were remote forest roads. (Organizers suggest 25C- to 32C-width tires as a minimum.)

“I think going up is more interesting,” Steve said. “You're riding more slowly and are able to look around and appreciate your surroundings. On the descent, with the variable pavement quality, you're mostly watching the ground in front of you.”

The road’s slope slowly began to level at mile 46 and the rest of the day was a ride in the forest. The painted centerline eventually appeared. Civilization ahead.

Getting to Powers
It’s a 90-minute drive on twisting, two-lane roads from Roseburg and Interstate 5 or an hour from Bandon and the Oregon Coast. Here are some directions. http://tourdefronds.com/index.php/faq-s-important-information/mnu-infolocal/mnu-directions

Where do you sleep? Some cyclists camp in Powers County Park, the event’s start line. Others book limited motel rooms in Myrtle Point 30 minutes north of town or wake up early from Roseburg or the coast.

Staying in town has its advantages. There is a Friday evening dinner in the park, a Saturday after-ride meal in town, and a Sunday morning Lions fundraiser breakfast.

Registration opened March 1 this year and those 250 spots are selling fast, organizers tell me. As many as 30 people end up on a waiting list each year. Visit the website to sign up and find all the event details.

Doing It All Again
Riders from the Santa Rosa Cycling Club may be among the first to register. A contingent drove north last year and registrations already have arrived for 2026.

“We like traveling to bike and we like cycling in Oregon,” Steve said. “It's a one-day drive away and we really like this event.”

And then Steve offered some advice. “It's not like any other event, so arrive with an open attitude and appreciate the unique flavor, the passion of the locals to show you a good time, and the incredible scenic beauty of riding in a national forest.”

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

Major construction inside Crater Lake National Park has forced the cancellation of this year’s Ride the Rim event, organizers announced Monday.

The 33-mile ride, which follows Rim Drive around the famous Crater Lake, is one of the West Coast’s most scenic and challenging events. Large portions of the road are closed to motorized traffic on two designated Saturdays each September for the free Ride the Rim event.

Ride the Rim should return in September 2027, according to a spokesman at Discover Klamath, the tourism marketing organization that promotes the event.

The construction project will also likely thwart anyone planning to the ride the popular route on their own this summer. National Park officials made the decision because construction projects affecting park roads, visitor areas, and trails are scheduled during the summer, Discover Klamath said. This work includes the repair and repaving of East Rim Drive, a critical stretch of road during Ride the Rim events.

Crater Lake National Park remains open and accessible during construction. Access to the lake via the one-mile Cleetwood Cove Trail is temporarily closed while work is being completed.

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

Make no mistake. I am not a randonneur. My concept of a long ride is a metric century. I’ve consistently said 100 kilometers (62 miles) is more than enough.

Lisa Charlebois, on the other hand, is a committed randonneur. She loves long rides. She’ll pedal 300 kilometers in a single day, return home, and then head out again the next morning. So, when I decided in a moment of delirium to test myself during this summer’s Seattle to Portland Bicycle Classic (STP), I called on Lisa for some advice.

Her insights, kindly shared with encouragement and humor, instilled a sense of optimism. With sensible training and proper fueling, she emphasized, I can ride 100 miles a day, two days in a row.

Her guidance can be helpful to anyone looking to increase their endurance, whether it’s the STP or any other distance ride.

The STP, staged each July by Seattle’s Cascade Bicycling Club, is an endurance test of a different sort. Yes, it’s two long days on the bike but hills are rare and never really intimidating. Instead of worrying about the legs, organizers say riders should concentrate on what the club calls the “mind and behind connection.”

Also: Saying Yes to the STP Classic

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Find the complete “Why We Ride” destination cycling guide here.

I’m not deeply concerned about the mind. I try to avoid the overburdened thought of long days by splitting rides into segments. I don’t think of the finish, only reaching the next rest stop or coffee shop.

Then again, I’ve never attempted back-to-back 100-mile days. I should work on this.

The Training Plan
I’m much more uncertain about my behind. Can I sit for hour after hour after hour without major discomfort?

Lisa has a training model that anyone can use to toughen up for long days on a sometimes-uncomfortable saddle. This model tracks riding time, not distance. And that makes sense. Miles can vary in difficulty, flat roads vs. hills but the one constant is time.

“Gradually build time on the bike,” Lisa says. “The biggest mistake I see riders make is trying to cram fitness in too close to the event. Distance riding rewards patience.”

Her recommendation: Build endurance by increasing your hours for three consecutive weeks, then backing off in week 4 to recover. Limit each weekly increase to about 10 percent to give the body time to adapt.

“Your legs might feel fine pushing harder, but your knees and hips will tell you a different story three weeks later,” she says. “Start earlier than you think you need to and let the fitness come to you. And use that three steps forward, one step back method and you’ll be golden.”

I calculate I’ll be on the bike as many as eight hours each day or 16 hours for the complete STP. So, that’s my training target – 16 hours per week by July.

“Your training week volume can go past (the target). That’s not a bad thing,” Lisa says. “To peak at 16, even 20 hours would be a great build. That should be the biggest weeks at about three weeks before STP. Then you can taper.”

STP takes place July 11-12, so I’m developing a training schedule through mid-June. But there’s more to this than simply pushing pedals. Here are a few more tips from the randonneur.

Do your long ride every week.
“Everything else in your training week is negotiable. The long ride is not,” Lisa says, explaining that this is when the body learns to burn fuel efficiently, the mind understands how to stay calm, and the behind gets comfortable with the process.

Practice your event conditions specifically.
Replicate the ride. I typically include climbing in my local tours, but STP is primarily flat. I will find new routes that better reflect the terrain.

“Also practice riding consecutive days,” she says. “STP is two days. Your training should include back-to-back rides, so your body knows what day two feels like. Start with an hour and then 1.5 hours on the next day. And you can slowly increase that time.”

Take it easy.
“This is probably the most counterintuitive thing I tell people,” Lisa says. “Most of your training miles should feel almost too easy. The research is really clear on this. Elite endurance athletes do around 80 percent of their training at low intensity. When everything is medium-hard you’re too tired to go really hard on the days that matter. Easy rides are building your aerobic engine quietly and efficiently.”

I can do that.

Don’t ignore nutrition.
Lisa and husband Richard Andrew, a food scientist, know about cycling and nutrition. They co-founded and operate Hummingbird Fuels which produces a high carbohydrate powder drink mix that delivers 60 grams of carbs per water bottle.

They’ve researched fueling and put their knowledge to beneficial use on their own tours. Here are some more nutrition do’s and don’ts.

Do: “The golden rule of endurance fueling is eat before you’re hungry and drink before you’re thirsty,” Lisa says. “By the time you feel it, you’re already behind and it takes a long time to catch up if you can catch up at all. I aim to eat something every 30 to 45 minutes on long rides without exception, even if I don’t feel like I need it yet.”

Do: Lisa follows this rule. Think of fueling as carbohydrates per hour, and not just calories. So, look for the carb count on food packaging.

“Carbohydrates are your friend on the bike,” she says. “Carbs are your most efficient fuel source, and you need a lot of them. For serious distance riding, we’re talking about 60 to 90 grams of carbohydrates per hour.”

Don’t: “Don’t rely only on solid food for long rides,” she says. “Your gut starts to shut down blood flow during hard efforts and solids get harder to process. Liquid calories are your best friend.”

Liquids are easy to consume, fast to absorb, and gentle on the stomach. Blend liquid carbs with food you look forward to eating.

Do: Practice nutrition during training rides.

“I see this constantly. Riders who are very disciplined about fueling on event day treat training rides like a fasting experiment,” Lisa says. “If you’re going out for more than 90 minutes you need to be eating on the bike. Training rides are where you practice your nutrition strategy, not just your fitness. If you don’t know what works in your stomach at hour four, you do not want to find out during STP.”

I now have a training schedule, a nutrition strategy, and three months to prepare. plan. So, now I wonder … will I call myself a randonneur someday?

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

You can still find the distinct blue-and-white signs posted in front of a few Oregon businesses or tucked inside store windows. “Bike Friendly,” the signs proclaim with a bike wheel illustration and icons indicating available services inside.

There once were more than 360 of these metal signs, or in some cases window-cling decals, displayed across the state. Each sign represented a hotel or motel, restaurant, coffee shop, retail store, campground, bike shop, or other business that enrolled in a 2014 Bike Friendly Business program created by Travel Oregon, the statewide tourism marketing organization.

Qualifying criteria were established and each business needed to satisfy its own group’s expectations. But the bar was low. A coffee shop, for example, could join if it simply made restrooms, a tire pump, and free water bottle refills available.

Joining the program was free, and businesses had the option of buying signs and decals for $56 or less depending on the product and size. The goal, it seemed, was to get as many participants as possible on board.

That’s all gone now. The program slowly, quietly, faded away as Travel Oregon gradually lost interest in promoting cycling.

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Find the complete “Why We Ride” destination cycling guide here.

A National Effort
I was reminded of the program in February when The League of American Bicyclists, a national non-profit bicycle advocacy group, announced 65 new and renewing bike friendly businesses (BFBs). Recipients, large and small, are awarded platinum, gold, silver, and bronze status for their efforts.

Some are corporations that make great strides to encourage employees to commute by bike and others are small businesses that embrace bicycles in the company culture.

“The original motivation was for larger corporate employers, but it has really expanded to include tourism and tons of small mom-and-pops,” says Amelia Neptune, director of the League’s Bicycle Friendly America Program. “We have main street businesses around the country of all shapes and sizes. We have elementary schools. We have police departments. We have a community garden.

“When we say ‘business,’ we use that term broadly,” she says. “And we’ve tried to design the program to work for corporations, nonprofits, public agencies, and everything in between.”

More companies operating in the tourism sector are using the bike friendly designation as a marketing tool to appeal to this niche, dedicated cycling audience, Amelia says.

“The tourism industry is an area for places to advertise themselves to a market of people looking for new experiences by bike,” she says, “and we’ve seen this be the main motivation for some communities. We’ve got really small rural communities that have adopted the bike friendly business program. They realized they were getting more people to their community because their tourism bureau promoted (the program). It was a great tool to advertise.”

British Columbia Does It
While U.S. states along the West Coast do not have formal programs, GoByBikeBC in British Columbia does and encourages cyclists to submit nominations.

“The BC Bike-Friendly Business Directory is your go-to guide for finding and supporting businesses that welcome cyclists,” the organization states on its website. “From cafés and restaurants to bike shops, accommodations, and local attractions, our directory highlights businesses that make cycling easier, safer, and more enjoyable.”

The nomination form asks if a business provides any of the following:
- Bike Racks Available
- Inside Bike Parking
- Water Refills
- Repair Station/Tools
- E-Bike Charging
- Cyclist Discounts/Deals
- Located on Bike Route
- Cyclist-Friendly Accommodation

A searchable database of businesses can be found here.

Your favorite bike friendly businesses
We all know places – hotels, hostels, restaurants, coffee shops, bakeries, wineries, to name a few – that warmly welcome people riding bikes. Here’s your opportunity to nominate your favorite places. Let’s call it the “Why We Ride Bike Friendly Business Program.”

Tell me about your BFB in California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, or British Columbia. Share the business name, address, and why you like it. Please consider the criteria listed by GoByBikeBC.

Comment below this post or send me a personal email at dan@danshryock.com. I will compile our list and post it on my Substack site. Let’s give some love to the people who love to welcome us during our rides.

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

It happens every spring.

Anticipation builds as we prepare for our April cycling tour in California. Bikes are tuned up. Hotels are booked. Routes are mapped. Fresh air, sunshine, and new roads await.

Our group’s strategy this year is simple. Drive south to catch the best possible weather and then work our way north. We will begin in Santa Barbara where we first visited in 2023. We’ll ride there for two days before moving to Carmel, the East Bay’s Tri-Valley area, Chico, and finally Redding.

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Good memories of Santa Barbara remain strong after three years thanks in large part to Anna Naughton, a proficient cyclist and our volunteer guide from the local tourism office. Anna showed us how to enjoy the city’s waterfront paths and narrow hillside roads.

We started at the aptly named Handlebar coffee shop, sufficiently caffeinated and pastry-fueled for the day’s ride. We expected this would be a short outing, no long distances or lengthy climbs. Our simple goal was to explore this popular seaside destination.

But Anna had a plan. While we only covered 15 miles, we gained a new cycling perspective for this coastal haven.

Anna quickly put us to work, starting at sea level and climbing to more than 770 feet in the first 3 miles. Once on Mountain Drive, we twisted and curved for another 4 miles. Along the way, we caught glimpses of affluent homes and stunning scenery. Anna said Harry and Meghan, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex, had been seen riding their e-bikes along this posh Montecito-area road. We could neither confirm nor deny that day.

We then plunged toward the ocean, following Ashley and Sycamore Canyon roads until we reached the sea and a gentle pedal along the waterfront bike trail.

“This route combines the best of all Santa Barbara cycling has to offer,” Anna said later, citing stunning ocean views, historic districts, local businesses like Handlebar, and glamorous Montecito. “This is a true mountain-to-sea ride.”

I asked Anna for some other route suggestions, and she split them into categories: easy, moderate, and difficult.

“When people think of Santa Barbara, they may think of the coastline and beaches, but they are usually surprised to find out about the epic hill climbing routes,” she said. “Santa Barbara cycling is simply dreamy. It’s a cyclist’s paradise.”

Three Rides to Consider
Now, three years later, we can follow up on her ideas.

Easy: Start with a ride from Stearns Wharf to Butterfly Beach and back so riders can get “a great lay of the land,” Anna said. There’s a flat stretch along the coast past the historic Stearns Wharf, the oldest working wooden wharf in California, and along the Cabrillo Bike Path. Pass East Beach and the Santa Barbara Zoo where you may see a giraffe along the fence line. The ride continues along the Andree Clark Bird Refuge and up to a flower-lined path with ocean views. Butterfly Beach awaits.

Moderate: Anna raved about the Hope Ranch loop that starts at the Santa Barbara Harbor and heads west past Leadbetter Beach and along Shoreline Park. The route includes ocean views, a ride through the Mesa neighborhood, past Douglas Family Preserve and Arroyo Burro Beach before finally climbing into the Hope Ranch neighborhood.

“You will enjoy smooth, winding roads and trees before completing the loop in a variety of different ways,” she said.

Hard: “Gibraltar Road is the granddaddy of hill climbs in Santa Barbara,” Anna said. “It’s 3,800 feet grueling uphill and there are ocean views every time you look.”

A Footnote
I received an email from Anna about a month ago. In it, she said she’s ready to ride once we arrive. Then she added “I just biked part of Gibraltar on my lunch break today. It really is the best. Any interest in biking the whole thing while you guys are here?”

Bike Rentals, Tours, and Resources
There are several rental and tour resources in the Santa Barbara area if bringing bikes is not possible.

- Mad Dogs & Englishmen rents high-end road, mountain, and e-bikes from its Montecito location. maddogsandenglishmen.com

- Wheel Fun Rentals, located on East Mason Street near the ocean, gears down the intensity with cruiser bikes, e-bikes, and multi-person Surrey bikes for casual peddling along the waterfront. wheelfunrentals.com

- The city operates an e-bike share program called Santa Barbara BCycle. A fleet of more than 200 e-bikes and requisite docking stations are located in various parts of the city, including downtown and the waterfront. Access is available through an app at $7 for 30 minutes. Find more information at santabarbara.bcycle.com.

- The Visit Santa Barbara website – santabarbaraca.com – posts complete information about activities in the area, where to sleep, and provides an informed directory of everything from cookie classes, food tours, breweries, and gourmet dining.

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

Your response to last week’s post on the Seattle to Portland Bicycle Classic (STP) was encouraging. I received comments below the article, on social media posts, and even via private email.

Many of you said you’ve ridden the STP several times in the past. Some endorsed my plan and others offered suggestions. All were supportive.

- “Did this ride with my wife in 2014. So much fun. A lot of riders, great support, and food stops.”

- “I did this ride with my son several years ago (2022), it was a blast. Good recap, I’m with you about having a mattress. Ride On!”

- “Great ride … Drink when you’re not thirsty and eat when you’re not hungry so you don’t bonk. Good luck. You will have fun and, for sure, it’s a bucket list ride.”

- “I’ve never done the STP as I’m not a huge fan of riding in a Peloton. I am sure it’s a great race. Have fun. Make sure you have your spare tubes (if you use tubes), and I would invest in a proper riding bib. Chafing could be a problem if it’s hot.”

Advice is motivating, and I need more of it. Since I’m preparing for long days on the bike, I’ve asked endurance cyclist Lisa Charlebois to guide me. Lisa is a randonneur, a cyclist who participates in timed, long-distance events. She’s also a writer and video producer whose work is both informative and entertaining. You can find her on YouTube and Instagram.

Lisa and I are creating a training plan, and I’ll be sharing my progress with you during the next four months. Lisa stresses that a successful STP centers on one’s ability to keep pedaling, and not solely on strength. Can I ride a bike for two very long days?

A second and potentially painful question asks if I can comfortably sit on a bicycle saddle for two full days. To find the answer, I will explore chamois – the padding stitched inside cycling shorts – and explain what makes a good endurance bib.

As with all my work, I hope these upcoming posts provide information you can apply to your own cycling experiences. I invite you to share this message and my future articles with your cycling friends and encourage them to sign up for free subscriptions. My success is based on the number of people who read my words, and I hope to add 35 readers by April 1 to reach the 600-subscriber mark.

Then consider supporting my work and becoming a paid subscriber. Whether it is $5 per month or $40 per year, your financial assistance has real value as I coordinate research trips such as this spring’s California tour to Santa Barbara, San Francisco’s East Bay, Chico, and Redding.

Thank you for your continued encouragement. See you on the road.

Dan Shryock is a travel writer and career journalist who focuses on cycle tourism. Based in Oregon, his work has appeared in magazines and websites in California and the Pacific Northwest. His book, “Cycling Across Oregon: Stories, Surprises & Revelations Along the State’s Scenic Bikeways” is available on Amazon.

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