McKenzie River Biking
FINALLY!
Or, at least, with caveats.
One BIG caveat.
One year, we planned to ride McKenzie River Trail (MRT), and we got rained out, and when next we looked, it was under several feet of snow. The next year, the group we intended to shuttle with bailed. Twice. Another try, and it snowed the week of our planned trip. We were feeling like the MRT, which everyone simply RAVES about, was not a trail we were going to successfully bike.
Well, we rode it. Success, now, not so much, or not for everyone.
NWTA (formerly pump) plans this as a group ride every year. I moved all sorts of plans, being determined I was going to ride it. I would be happy to go back later in the year, but dagnabit, I was going to get this ride in. And I came down with a headcold. Tough it out, I decided.
So we met the several groups at Paradise Camp, and with 15 others shuttled to the top trailhead. We had a few words for safety & organization, then we rolled out. Buff trail wove through large treetrunks alond side a creek, or up a slope, or around a knoll. Trailflow was wonderful. At intersections, we held to a rolling handoff - the first person there would stop, then when the next group arrived, the frist person would ride off and the last person would stay - ensuring everyone stayed on the same trail, without a lot of regroup time.
We did regroup at Sahalie Falls, where everyone took photos, munched, and grinned. Perfect weather - cool enough for the breeze to be refreshing, warm sunlight on the greenery. We hit some small sections of rocks, but had spread out the field so that the folks who were needing some extra time were in the back - I was supposed to do a segment of trail sweep later, but right now, I was near the front and cruising. The Honey was a few riders up from me, trading places with JD and MG, and SW was behind me, and then there was a large space before the slower riders.
The trail turned right then swished down through a rocky depression, crossed the bottom and climbed out the other side of the kettle. As I stood up on the little climb, I heard a faint voice cry "Help me."
I stopped and looked and saw only SW beginning the descent. Looked around again. There was a red bike in the folliage. "Man down!" I yelled, dropped my bike and ran up trail. By the time I got to the bike, SW was blowing in a whistle, over and over.
So our plesent ride was interrupted by three hours of rescue. MG had apparently missed the corner and headed out over the 10 ft cliff into the vinemaples and sharp rocks. Quite honestly, he was luckly to escape with 3 broken ribs, a punctured lung, a mile and a half backboard carry, and a helicopter ride. SW, JH, and DG and I supported the victim, tried to keep him from moving, feed him water, and made a shelter from space blankets. JD and TH sprinted in opposite directions until they could get cell signal and call for EMTs, then guided them in with GPS coordinates and our familyband radios. They sent us K, a nurse they found riding the trail, who confirmed we done good and stayed with us until the EMTs hiked in.
I cringed when the EMT called the backboard ride "uncomfortable at best" - I've been through it for a much shorter distance but without the morphine drip MG had. Once the firecrew started marching uptrail with the sled, our last little pocket of bikers cleared the site - gathering all donated jerseys and jackets and blankets to leave no trace - and did sweep the ride.
At this point, we'd ridden about 8 miles in an hour. This is a 26 mile trail.
But, we were no longer trying to keep a string of 15 riders of differing skill together. There were six of us, and we simply cruised.
Well, until we hit the lava section. Picture a flume - not a flume trail like Tahoe with it's gentle countours, but the actual sharp sided, waist deep zig zag of the water bearing flumes of yore. Now make it out of rough lava, and don't worry so much of it being contoured. And add some loose but sharp babyhead rocks to roll around on the bottom. That will slow you down.
But at the bottom of this section is Blue Pool, a placid part of the river with color not normally found in nature. Jaw dropping.
Continuing on (eventually), and we found more buff trail zipping through the woods. The trail dropped into the most ugly campground I have ever seen, but it had potable water, so we halted. TH had used up his camelback during his extra 8mile sprint for rescue, and had made inroads on mine, so we were really happy that there was a spot to refill.
The rest of the trail was spectacular riding - swooshing along the hillsides, coasting through grade dips, and holding a pretty good pace. We perforce regrouped at every bridge crossing - these weren't really rideable bridges - and decided that there was always another hillclimb. We were definately getting tired when we rolled into camp.
Was it a successful ride? Not really, for some. The trail was great, and so was the company. I want certainly want to do it again!
