Saturday, September 1, 2012

Finish line

On Tuesday, Stella and I entered Stanley Park, where downtown Vancouver meets the Pacific Ocean.

Whooping, hollering, and relieved laughter mixed with the sounds of the waves as we dipped our wheels into the salty water. Immediately after, we set our bikes aside and flung ourselves into the water.

It was a cold day to be in the Pacific waters, but as the official finish line of our cross-country bicycle ride, there wasn't anyone in our 32-strong family who hesitated. 


Our last day was not without its own challenges. Stripped of our digital maps and phones, we were dispersed and unable to communicate with one another. A large group of us quickly found ourselves off the cue sheet. Apparently there was one incorrect turn 5 miles back. We didn't want to turn around, and found out from local construction workers that we could still get to Stanley Park by following the path we were on.

Several others got lost as well, and at the end we descended on Stanley Park like a poorly-coordinated flash mob. I finally understood why we all wear the same jersey - it's not to look cool when we ride, it's so we can spot one another when we get lost!

Vancouver itself was a pleasure to visit as a bicycle advocate - it is clear where Portland looks to for inspiration for its cycle tracks, green bike lanes, and dedicated bike paths. Vancouver reminded me a little of Copenhagen, which I visited last summer... oh geez, my life is turning into one big bicycle ride. Well, what can I say? I'm enjoying the view from my saddle.

In the past four days I've been reflecting on how many people it took to get our group from Portsmouth, NH to Vancouver, BC. To everyone who donated to our cause and allowed me to participate in our summer - I cannot say thank you enough. To our Bike & Build staff and group leaders, who took care of all of the logistics and gave up nearly every ounce of their free time this summer for us - thank you.

All of our hosts, my friends, Outdoor Program family and my (real) family who encouraged me all along the way, often revived my spirits with packages, letters, and visits part-way through - thank you.

To the many individuals who catered to my newly acquired gluten-free diet, who reached out to me when I was sick and taught me all about gluten-free food - thank you.

To the many bicycle mechanics, who literally kept us riding - adjusting our brakes and derailleurs and donating their time - thank you.

And a special thank you to the many folks at B-cycle and Trek, Ninkasi Brewing Company, Greater Eugene Area Riders, and Collin's Cycle Shop who all sponsored me - I don't know what I would have done without your support!

We reached Vancouver, and it took a small village to get us here.


Saturday, August 18, 2012

Learning the contours of the country

As you might imagine, Western Montana swept me away in its beauty and endless lakes, rivers, and coffee & ice cream shops. Thus I have not blogged for a while. But I will now.

Ernest Hemmingway once said, "it is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best,since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them. Thus you remember them as they actually are,while in a motor car only a high hill impresses you,and you have no such accurate remembrance of country you have driven through as you gain by riding a bicycle."

I am now just beginning to understand what he meant. Never more have I felt the mountains, the plains, and the hills so acutely than this summer. I will always remember Going to the Sun Road after more than a week of Big Sky Montana (read: flat).

Our crew had many conversations preceding this week, attempting to predict how challenging (or not) the Rockies and Cascades would be. What is the difference between a hill, like the ones we ascended in Wisconsin, and a mountain? After two major climbs in Montana (Logan Pass, 6,600ish ft) and Washington (Flowery Trail Pass, 4,046 ft), we all know the difference is significant. Our knees and backs ache this evening and our smiles are prevelent from the 8 mile decent.

I have been having too much fun, as evident from my lack of posts and photo uploads. More to come!

Thursday, August 9, 2012

It never happened.

My last post was from Minnesota, and I am now typing this out on the frontier - the wild west - of Glasgow, Montana.

It's gorgeous here - big sky and open fields of wheat
And that state in between? I've almost forgotten all about it, it's like we were never there.

North Dakota was like a bad dream... if you are a bicyclist. Small or non-existent shoulders forced us into the main roadway of Highway 2. Unlike bicycling on a country road with light traffic, these roads had semis, and lots of them. We road on a stretch that looked like an interstate highway, with on  ramps and exits, underpasses and overpasses. It was not a good place for us.

Rugby, ND - the geographical center of North America
We saw the impact of oil development and I saw for the first time a fracking operation. I'll tell you one thing: they sure are louder than wind turbines I've heard complaints about.

That brings me to the headwind. Ahhhh the headwind! I have not experienced anything more demoralizing than pedaling as hard as you can into the wind, and still going slow. Trying to prolong our stay in this dismal state, it pushed us eastward every afternoon.

The saving grace of this state is its people. Just as friendly as those Minnesotans, even the truck divers chatted us up at gas stations and gave us alternative routes in case we had enough of Route 2.
Our build day in Minot, ND. This house is will be refinished after a flood-damaged addition is removed.
I was impressed by the determination individuals showed to keep their communities alive - many communities were damaged from floods last year, and they are still working hard and seemingly, tirelessly, to rebuild.

So, Mom & Dad, family and friends, after you read this, breathe easily. I never thought for a moment I would get hit by a semi. I never screamed or cried.

For North Dakota never happened. It was just a bad dream.






Monday, July 30, 2012

A home away from home

Duluth, Minnesota has a special place in my heart as the home of my dear friend, Fred. I've been to Duluth twice before, and after nearly a month of traveling - each day a new and unfamiliar place - Duluth felt like a homecoming.

The ride into Duluth was a bit hairy, as the Willard Munger State Trail was washed out in the huge flood that hit earlier this summer. We rode on the trail for over forty miles, but the last twenty were inaccessible, so we took: highway 61 that led us to the local ski hill, and then hiked down (bikes on shoulders) on a washed-out hiking trail to a washed-out road, Spring Creek Road. Then there was some interesting navigation of the city's bike route toward downtown. We eventually made it, and it will stick out in our trip as a day of "choose your own adventure."

But as we rode in, somewhat unsure of ourselves, I began to recognize places I'd been and ridden before. The Lake walk, bridges, restaurants...


Stella and I got into town fairly early and immediately headed to a local brewpub. While leisurely consuming an elk burger, GF beer, and root beer float, we watched our fellow riders pedal by in a downpour that set in.
We were soon after whisked away from Bike & Build world by Fred's lovely parents, Brenda and Dave. Not only did they give us real beds, but hot showers, and a salmon dinner. Ahhh, what more could a weary traveler ask for?!

The following day, we volunteered with Habitat for Humanity in Superior, WI (just a few miles from Duluth). Our task was to level out a huge pile of dirt inside the frame of the house so that the concrete foundation could be poured the following week. With our help, the organization saved over $5,000!
This is about what the pile looked like at the beginning


Nearly finished...
Our work is done!

 


Duluth was one of my favorite stops, and I sincerely hope it is not the last time I visit this beautiful city.


Leaving Duluth at sunrise.



Sunday, July 29, 2012

A little bit o' Oregon, in Wisconsin

We woke early (4:15am), excited for the big cities at the end of the day. We have our morning routine down by now: bags in the trailer, breakfast, clean-up, route meeting, ride.

But today was a little different, throwing our routine out the window of that sketchy white van we drive around.

Waiting for the rain, it's too early to be awake... 6am!
There was thunder and lightning outside.

Before Bike & Build, I doubt I would have thought twice about going for a bike ride in a lightning storm. We have rubber tires, right?

But we have a saying on Bike & Build; heard at least a dozen times a day. "Safety is Sexy." Yup.

We waited for about an hour for the storm overhead to pass. I sat on a water cooler in the doorway, watching and counting the lightning strikes and listening for the thunder to dissipate into the distance.

Post-rain, climbing hills in the mist.
Still pouring outside, a group of us headed out. Like when driving a car, the rain (and oils lifted off the road) typically reduces the friction between your tires and the road.

We flew up and down hills, exhilarated by the cool air, the rain in our face and flying up from our wheels.

This was our last day in Wisconsin, and I was a little sad to say goodbye to the state. From Janesville, several days in Madison, Soldier's Grove, and Onalaska, Wisconsin treated us well. It felt like home to me, like my beloved Oregon. With the rolling hills, vast forests, and intertwined with farmland, and a liberal sweet bicycling city (Madison), I could have stayed here happily for a while. At least until the first sign of snow.



Just keeping warm at lunch.

 The remainder of our rainy day ended up being lovely. We stopped for lunch under a covered picnic area, did some aerobic jazzersize-esque moves to stay warm, and then pedaled into the great state of Minnesota, ending the day in a cute neighborhood of the Twin Cities, close to the U of M St. Paul campus.
Minnesota!!!

Biking into the Twin Cities, downtown St. Paul is in the background.




Saturday, July 28, 2012

Perfect moments of Madison

It's been almost a week since we left Madison, but it was so amazing I just have to tell you about it!

The ride into Madison was a whopping 43 miles, probably the shortest day we've had since the first week of this adventure. The only thing I remember from the ride is arriving in the city. We knew we were in Madison not because of a city sign, but because we were on a bike path.
Capital City Path, lined with a community garden

Madison is known as a bicycle-friendly city (rated by the League of American Bicyclists as a Gold City, same as Eugene). Taking a look at the businesses located in Madison (or right outside), it's hardly a surprise that this town is filled with many bicycle-enthusiasts who plan, advocate for, and even fund bicycle facilities and amenities in town.
Great bike/ped bridges

First of all, Trek is headquartered in Waterloo, just twenty miles north of Madison, and the only two corporate-owned Trek stores are in Madison proper.

Trek graciously sponsored Stella & I, supplying us with tires, tubes, a couple of chains, and jackets. So we went to the store to get restocked, and say hello to our friends there. The mechanics were wonderful and took care of our every need with the utmost attention. It was like being in  a bicycle tourer's heaven.

Protected bike lane
Trek also is the umbrella company and Madison sponsor of B-cycle, one of two major bike sharing companies in the U.S. Since bike share is coming to the University of Oregon campus, we took a tour of the bicycling facilities with two B-cycle employees, Claire and Mandy, on B-cycles. It was a perfectly cool summer day, and so much fun to nerd out in the cities on colored bike lanes, bike boxes, and protected bike lanes.

I'm lovin' the ride!
In so far as the culture here, Madison is very liberal, home to University of Wisconsin (go Badgers!), filled with community gardens and wonderful places to eat and drink. I was happily surprised every time I went in search of food, I was able to find not only gluten-free options, but entire gluten-free menus and bakeries. Ahhhhh... to be in both gluten-free and bike heaven... 

Yes, I could stay here for a little while... but don't worry, Mom, Dad, my friends at the Janet Smith Cooperative - I'm still heading west toward Oregon (or as everyone says it out here, Ory-gun).


A special THANK YOU to Lee Jones, Tyler Reeder, Chuck McFarland and Claire Hurley for being such amazing hosts and taking care of us and our bikes with so much love and attention. You made my first Madison experience unforgettable!!!

Monday, July 16, 2012

Firsts.


This week has been one of firsts.
We volunteered with the South Bend (Illinois) Habitat for Humanity Chapter. It was by far the best build day we’ve had; they put us all to work and made sure we learned a few things along the way. A group of us worked on putting up rafters and roofing the garage. I ignored the slight anxiety of height and got up to nail the roofing as well. It was so rewarding!
In South Bend, another first for me – riding in a Hummer. After a long day in the heat, I barely thought twice climbing into the air conditioned monstrosity.But I gotta say, I don't understand the appeal still, considering the inside is cramped.
The new experiences continued...
I completed my first century bicycle ride, totaling 107 miles from South Bend.
And finally, I visited Chicago for the first time. I loved bicycling to the city. As one of my fellows riders put it - the cityscape appears after a bend in the river path - and then all the sudden, it envelopes you. It was a challenge to keep my eyes in front of me, when there was so much to see above.
In two days, we'll be in Madison!

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Catch up!

Today was pretty epic. We bicycled 80 miles, and hit the 1,000 mark of our trip. We also left Ohio behind and said hello to Michigan. It was one of the rare days here at Bike & Build, where we got into our host site before 2pm and have had a good portion of the afternoon and evening to ourselves. 

Stella taking in the Ohio scene.
We spend this time in a variety of ways. Napping is not a question of an "if" but "when", and other common indulgences are visiting the post office, local pub, cleaning our bicycles, stretching, and giving/receiving massages.

I was delighted and surprised when I found out one of the women providing showers today also used to be a music teacher. We exchanged shaky, awful performances of our favorite classics for one another, and then attempted a duet. It sounded terrible, but it was fun. I laughed at my out-of-practice fingers.

In playing the piano, I've noticed something quiet disturbing is happening to my hands. I am developing what's known in the cycling world as "handlebar palsy," which is when one or more nerves in your hand is compressed and causes your hand to go numb/tingle/lose dexterity.

Writing, eating, and yes, playing a D major cord has become an interesting challenge.

I have been assured by my fellow riders and google that this can be improved with some minor adjustments to my positioning and focusing on my core while I ride. Things are getting real technical. 

This evening I was also thankful to have quality internet and thus a little more computer time (am I really saying this?). The real world was beckoning at the door, and I felt like I could no longer ignore it.

Alright real world, goodnight!


Monday, July 9, 2012

Craziness

I can hardly believe we are in Ohio. I am empowered by how far we've come in just a few short weeks; while watching a sunset or getting to the next city we often say - "You know the best part about this? WE BIKED HERE!!!"

My legs are getting stronger. I'm no longer worried about my knees giving out on me and I have pushed myself beyond what I believed my shaky legs could carry me.

Tomorrow we ride 90 miles. Our wake-up times have shifted in response to these long days and the recent heat wave that pushed the temperatures into the mid-nineties.

After riding into our host site, we were driving (yes, weird I know) to take showers nearby and heard the mayor put out a public service announcement asking everyone to avoid going outside. And to check on your elderly neighbors, too.

It is often these little things that make me feel a little crazy for doing this but also less of a wimp for stopping occasionally to have an amazing root beer float or to eat a juicy peach in the shade with my fellow riders.

What am I saying - we are completely crazy!!! Here I am typing away at midnight, and I get up in five hours to bike 90 miles.

With that, I am going to get horizontal for a while.

Look at my facebook for photos! There are quite a few to browse through. I know you are trying to avoid all that work you have to do. ;)

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Five straight days.

Today marks our fifth day of cycling in a row. Every morning, we wake up between 5am and 6am, and are pedaling by early morning. We take a break after a few hours for lunch, and then finish by 4pm.
It's finally setting in that we are bicycling across the country, and we'll be bicycling like this for the next eight weeks.

There have certainly been a few surprises this week traveling through New Hampshire, Vermont, and now New York.

Good surprises include:
- Beautiful countryside. I had no idea that there were quiet, scenic roads out here, nor quaint little towns with old brick buildings. Everyday has been a pleasant surprise in both respects.

- Zero flat tires (so far). I know I'm bound to get one soon, but with my fellow riders going through several patches and tubes already in the trip, I'm feeling pretty lucky about that. Yesterday I even pulled out a good chunk of glass from my tire. Disaster averted!
- Amazing hosts who can cook gluten-free food! I was more hungry in my first week of this diet when I was cooking for myself, it turns out that other people know what's up with wheat. I was made a batch of GF brownies by our first host, Yvanne, and just finished the last one yesterday. AHHH what a delight.

- Our crew is wonderful. The people I'm spending every waking moment with are hilarious, passionate, and are all amazing individuals.

Not-so-good surprises:
- My booty hurts. Even with chamois butter, creams and powder, there's no getting around it - sitting on a saddle for 6 hours a day takes a toll on one's behind.

I’m trying really hard to think of unpleasant surprises. But actually, that’s all. Life is pretty great.

Sunday, June 24, 2012

First two days

We are in New London, NH.

As I sit and type, I listen to my fellow riders around me. Their questions and observations resonate with me. "What day is it tomorrow?" "Does anyone else feel like we've been bicycling for a week?" "My legs are tired...." "Oooo... my ass hurts!"

It's been two days. I've logged 105 miles, according to my cycle computer, and my average speed has been 12.8 miles/hour - so much faster than when I carry all my gear!

Stella and I decided we'd keep track of a few other things throughout the trip:
Bars consumed: 5
Roadkill seen: 9
Flat tires: 0 (Wahoo!)

We've scaled many hills so far. I'll write more soon!

For photos, visit my facebook page.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

On the tire swing


As a kid, I loved the tire swing. 

[Nerdy side note: Was the tire swing the brainchild of an idealistic urban planner who wanted to figure out a way to take a few of tires out of the junkyard, or just an evil  operation for which sprinkler-like child vomiting was the only goal? I'll google that and let you know later]. 

Tire swings only inhabited a few parks where I grew up in Boise, Idaho (swings of all varieties were deemed dangerous and were not found on any public school grounds). As a limited resource, tire swings.
But beyond the origin and scarcity of the tire swing – neither of which were in my consciousness at the age of 6 – I simply loved swinging. My dad had a way of whipping the swing around that made me squeal with delight and fear at the same time. Would I walk away from the swing unscathed and laughing or would I be thrown from it and scrape my little kneecaps? I had no way of knowing.

The last month has been a little like my childhood tire swing experience. The crux of my year fell on me with deadlines and social activities; with a solid grip, all I could do was hang on and enjoy the ride. I spent a weekend in Bend, filling the days with live music, bicycling, and experiencing the great brews. I also worked my butt of to close a couple of streets down town for our annual Bike Music Festival and for the first time, wrote a grant for federal funds to improve campus for bicycling and walking. Oh yeah, and with a lot of help and support from family and friends I also reached my fund raising goal! Whew!

As fun as the tire swing always was, I there was always a lingering feeling of nausea. I haven’t been able to avoid that either. Don’t worry, I won’t go into details. The gist of it is that I’ve been sick for about a month but unclear what the cause of my sickness was. After a couple of visits to the doctor’s office, a few tests, and some bloodwork, I was diagnosed with Celiac Disease. 

Celiac is one form of gluten intolerance (one of the more severe), impacting one’s ability to digest food properly and absorb nutrients. I said goodbye this week to all the glorious brews I love in Eugene and those I tasted in Bend. I also had my first grocery shopping experience and was dismayed with the limitations of this new diet and how expensive the few items were that I biked home with.

In the grand scheme of things, it’s not bad. It’s just an inconvenience and above all, more timing for a bicycle trip in which would normally inspire carbo-loading of pasta and breads. I have a feeling there will be a learning curve here, so by the time I get to Wisconsin and North Dakota, I hope to have a gluten-free system down.

I’m back on the tire swing waiting for a push. I’m giddy but a little nervous about the next 10 weeks of my life. I anticipate to be met with many physical, nutritional, and emotional challenges. I might walk away laughing, I might get thrown and scraped up a bit, but I expect to have the best summer of my life, nothing less!

Stay tuned for more gluten-free cross-country bicycling and building posts!

Friday, April 27, 2012

Biking always felt pretty natural to me. The idea of getting my bike "fitted" to me seemed like something only for hard-core racers or for the elite weekend warriors. Do I really need to go to a shop to have them adjust my saddle height for me? 

After spending two hours with Jay at Collin's Cycle Shop in town, I would definitively say, "Yes - it's worth it." 

The saddle height was one of the last things that we did, and just one of many measurements and adjustments we made. First, Jay took a look at my feet (surprise - I have a decent arch!) and also discovered that my right foot naturally likes to angle in a bit. No big deal for walking - he told me - but your feet are made for walking, not for pedaling. 
Blasphemy! 

This seems like a little issue, my foot angling in. But on a bike that has repercussions that move up - to my knee. Watching myself pedal through a video, I saw how my foot angle causes my right knee to cave in when I'm applying the most power to my pedal stroke (sorry, that just got a little technical). Long story short - that explains the knee pain I had on my Olympic Park trip! 

After a few shoe insoles, switching out a saddle and stem, my bike and I were like one. 

Conclusion: A bike fit is a great idea if you aren't comfortable on your bike currently or are experiencing any pain as you ride. It can be pricey. The treatment I got normally costs $200. If you aren't planning to ride more than 30 miles in a day any time in the near future, you can probably due without it (that's just my opinion).
Thanks Jay for donating your time and expertise to help me be happy on by bike! I'm sure I'll be thanking you even more when I return to Eugene without needing an ACL replacement. 
 

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Gearing up

This morning, my excitement for the summer ahead woke me... at 3am.

My mind is in high gear as the planning for the trip. Stella and I are purchasing air plane tickets today! And I'm starting to seriously think about what I need to bring on the trip and what can be left behind.

So this morning, I succumbed to my mind's chatter - What duffel bag am I going to buy? Should I replace my rain jacket that's starting to wear out? - and turned on the interwebs to answer a few more questions.

I love this part of the trip. The pre-trip planning, the dreaming, the imagining of places and people, of sights, climbs, and sore legs.

Training has been going pretty well and I am beginning to feel stronger and faster in my rides and runs. I completed a 300-mile tour in Olympic National Park three weeks ago, and aside from some initial knee pain (saddle height is of the utmost importance I'm learning quickly) the trip was gorgeous and amazing. I just kept thinking - I GET TO DO THIS ALL SUMMER! And boy, am I glad the rain will not play a main role.

And fundraising - look at that meter! I'm over half-way there! Thanks again to everyone who has supported me thus far. If you have not reached out to your communities and contacts to tell them about my mission for the summer, please do so!

That's all for now, stay tuned!

Here's a few photos from the Olympic Wet Riders 2012 bike tour:






Saturday, February 18, 2012

One foot in front of the other

A few weeks ago I started running again. Most folks probably call jogging, as my pace is closer to speed walking than sprinting. Running brings up memories of high school cross-country, memories which are etched into my mind from the pain and nausea. I joined cross-country to train for basketball season. Running was my enemy, I hated practice. But little by little, I improved and even started to enjoy it. I also gained little tidbits of advice on technique, which echo in my head every run I go on. To this day, whenever I hit an incline I can hear my coach telling me to just focus on the putting one foot in front of the other - "knees up and arms pumping!" Encouraging me to keep my eyes on the next step, not beyond that.


These words of advice were on repeat last week as ran through Hendricks Park, a favorite urban jungle of mine. On one particular hill, through trail and error, I've noticed if I try to keep my eye on the prize - the top of the hill - I tend to feel discouraged and succumb to exhaustion. But, if I just look down at my feet and focus on the present then I can push through. 

You saw this coming - the application of this advice to my life - I tend to get pretty caught up in planning. I did get a minor in city planning after all, but I also am constantly planning events, planning adventures, planning the next step of my life. But at the moment, I'm recognizing a huge importance on focusing on the now: taking advantage of thirty minutes of blue sky, seizing the day,  letting go of productivity as the only means to happiness, and dismissing that nagging voice asking me - where will you be living six months? What will you be doing?

I'm on a flat spot now, the going is pretty manageable, enjoyable even. Looking ahead I see an  incline, with no summit in sight. Remembering the advice of my coach, I'm going to take this on one step at a time.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

What is your repurpose here? Episode 1, by Sreang "C" Hok

My housemate C is a photographer and spends his days working on a slew of multimedia projects for publications. Here's one he completed recently about my experience picking up food by bike once a week for our student cooperative house. Enjoy!

Saturday, January 21, 2012

A Stella Favorite

I moved to Eugene almost five years ago now, from our large northern neighbor, Portland. Besides the culture (love of beer, bicycles, music, coffee, the environment), both cities share a intimate connection with the Willamette River.

Like a play with too few cast members, the Willamette River takes on different roles as it flows north. In the twelve months that I spent in Portland, there were probably a total of four days of "hot" weather, in which I futilely sought out a river's edge to jump in or a creek to dip my feet. In Portland, the Willamette is a river that works. Career oriented, sitting at a desk for 40+ hours a week, it feels worn out and strangely stagnant. With deep, wide channels, it's main purpose seems to be to carry ships that make the port city what it is today. It's beautiful, sure, but no one wants to take a swim in its waters. I remember reading in the Oregonian that a triathlon had to be cancelled because none of the participants were willing to swim in the polluted Willamette.

In contrary, the Willamette in Eugene is a river for playing. The water is swift and in the summer time is clear and shallow enough to wade across in many spots. Karens line the middle of the river, especially near the many pedestrian and bike bridges that connect the two banks. Sandy banks, river paths and city parks line the river's edge, providing access to this wonderful amenity. The Ruth Bascom River Path is always a go-to bicycling destination for a quick spin, picnic, or leisurely ride.

In addition to the Willamette, we also have the McKenzie River in our neck of the woods. Faster and more wild, the McKenzie is a big destination for kayakers and rafters. There are several bicycling rides following the McKenzie as well.

One ride I've repeated many times in the last two weeks incorporates both the Willamette and the McKenzie. Called the McKenzie View Loop, this 20-mile ride provides a jaunt out to the country side. With a couple of hills thrown in, it's no wonder this is one of Stella's favorite rides. She used to have to lead me through the winding suburban neighborhoods, but without her here, I had to figure it out on my own. Now I got all those cues down! If you are in Eugene and haven't done it, here it is:
http://rideoregonride.com/road-routes/mckenzie-view-loop/