Excited about this day’s ride following the North Umpqua River as it descends in its westward flow! This is the least inhabited and most beautiful wilderness of the trek. According to the U.S. Forest Service, “umpqua” translates to English as “thundering waters” – a reference to the many rapids and waterfalls on this river. No cell coverage for the next few days. No places to get a meal, just wilderness.

Weather was hot and dry (98 degrees F – unusually hot for this part of Oregon), the weather has been unusually hot as it has been the entire trek.

Woke early, ate breakfast (nuts and dried fruit), loaded the gear on the bike, broke camp, and applied suncreen. Geared up and got cranking on the bike about 7:30 am.

This morning, the wind had changed direction. A light wind was blowing smoke from the Bunker Hill forest fire into the Poole Creek campground. Time to get moving and get out of there.

Due to the forest fire, I planned to ford the Umpqua River a few miles downriver from where I had originally planned to cross. I planned to wade across the river, carrying my bike, below Lemelo Falls. In retrospect, this was a bad plan, for which I paid dearly.

Map of “Dread and Terror” segment of the North Umpqua River trail.

Pedaled downhill to the Lemelo Falls trailhead and began a steep descent into the river bed. The forest grew dense with plants, bushes, undergrowth, and tall trees. It was incredibly beautiful. The trail became more treacherous as I descended into the Umpqua river canyon/ravine. The trail was just a few feet wide, and steep. I was riding both front and rear brakes hard. On one side of the thin trail, the steep wall rose up the ravine. On the other side of the trail dropped off so steeply that if I had made a mis-step, I would plunge down, tumbling, and most likely not stopping for 30-50 feet. It became so treacherous (treacherous for my off-road skill levels) that I stopped and walked the bike down the trail the rest of the way.

What I saw on the other side of the river was a mirror image (except that there was no trail). I realized that I was in a deep canyon/ravine. The realization set in that I would  not be fording the river. That realization hit me hard: a double whammy – 1) I had wasted time and energy and 2) I had to waste double the time and energy climbing back out of the Umpqua river canyon.

Thoughts of the movie “Deliverance” popped in my head. And the dueling banjos song played along.

Then the defeating thought entered my head, “Mark, what were you thinking? If you had paid attention to the topographic lines on the map, you would have noticed that this part of the Umpqua River is one steep canyon.” More than one disparaging thought rolled around in my head. There was no way that I would be able to ford the river. I wanted to do it, but it would not be possible. Complete bummer.

Experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted.  –  Randy Pausch

So, I took photos of the stunning Lemelo Falls – a 100 foot waterfall that creates a cool mist cloud where the water tumbles onto the rocks. That  view of Lemolo Falls was the one thing that saved my  descent into the Umpqua river canyon from being a complete and total bust.

Lemelo Falls, Oregon Cascades.

Now it was time to turn around and climb out of the canyon. I began pushing the bike – it was impossible for me to pedal up the steep trail with the bike and all the gear. The temperature rose with the mid-morning sun heating the Umpqua river canyon. After loads of pushing and several stops for rest, I got to a point where I could get on the bike and pedal up the rest of the trail. Finally got back on to the dirt/gravel road that led back to Lemelo Lake. I was hot, exhausted, and frustrated. The only other way around the forest fire was a 13 mile detour. I was heading back to Lemelo Lake as one beat-down puppy. I had wasted about 3 hours on my river fording attempt, and was right back at the place where I had begun the morning 3 hours earlier. At the depth of my exhaustion and frustration, I prayed, “Lord, help me get past this forest fire.”

Since I was so close to the Lemelo Lake dam, I thought it was worth the effort to see if the dam road was still closed. When I approached the dam, I saw a roadblock – a sawhorse  with an orange and black sign that said “Road Closed. Fire Operations.” Parked next to the roadblock was a manned U.S. Forest Service vehicle. I decided to ride through the roadblock as if it wasn’t there. The bike was moving along and I kept cranking away, passing the roadblock. As I passed, a Forest Service employee got out of the vehicle and said ‘”Stop. You can’t go down that road.” I hit the brakes and stopped about 30 feet past the roadblock, I said, “Please let me go on the other side of the dam. I need to use the dam road to avoid a 13 mile detour.” The Forest Service employee replied, “We aren’t supposed to let anyone go down the closed road.” I said, “Please let me go. I am just going to the other side of the dam and then turning west down the Umpqua River, away from the fire zone.” The employee said, “O.K. I’ll let you go.” I thanked the US Forest Service employee and began pedaling quickly over the dam. At the end of the dam, I turned west and hit the Umpqua River trail.

The first section of the Umpqua trail downriver from Lake Lemelo is a 13 mile section officially titled “Dread and Terror“. It was certainly challenging, but the term came from a forest ranger who said it would be difficult to fight a forest fire in this terrain – a “dread and terror” to do so. The trail is a singletrack trail – a trail shared with hikers near Dread and Terror Ridge.

The Dread and Terror trail section is as rugged, desolate, and challenging as they come. Most likely not the optimal trail on which to take a bike loaded with bikepacking gear. The trail follows the North Umpqua River featuring a forest filled with towering pines, lush ferns, low-lying foliage, moss-covered rocks, river rapids, waterfalls, and streams. I followed the Umpqua trail downriver in its westward direction. The afternoon temperature was in the high 90’s.

North Umpqua River trail, Oregon Cascades.

           
It seemed to me like the Dread and Terror section was less of a biking trail and more of a hiking trail. The trail was narrow and steep on both sides. A mis-step or a slight wrong move could send one in a fall that would result in injury. Multiple times I ran across 3-5 foot diameter logs – trees that had fallen across the trail. I had to lift the gear-laden bike over these log obstructions. When streams crossed the trail, there was rarely a bridge. Most of the time you chose rocks to step on to get the bike over a stream. Several places had solid rock step ups of 2-4 feet in height. At one point, I transversed a seven-foot long, four inch wide ledge, with a 15 foot dropoff (if you slipped) – I carefully carried the gear-laden bike with one hand and held on to the rock wall with the other hand in order to keep from falling off the four-inch-wide trail.

Bikepacking obstacle on the North Umpqua River trail, “Dread and Terror” segment, Oregon Cascades.

Bikepacking obstacle on the North Umpqua River trail, “Dread and Terror” segment, Oregon Cascades.

Creek crossing on the North Umpqua River trail, Oregon Cascades.

It was mid-day and the sun was really heating things up into the upper 90’s. Plants whipped at my legs and arms when I rode through marshy, low-lying areas. My lower legs began to fill with cuts and became bloody from the plants tearing at my legs. I pushed the gear-laden bike for 50-60 % of the Dread and Terror section. It was a slow and painfully arduous progress. To see me on this section of the trail was to look at a over-heated, sweat-drenched,  mud-splattered, bloody-shinned, dehydrated, exhausted individual. Not a pretty sight.

The realization that I was not making my planned mileage that day began to dawn on me. I had wasted three hours of the day on my ill-planned river fording mis-adventure. And now I was in the midst of the desolate Dread and Terror section of the Umpqua River trail. I had intended on camping that evening at the Horseshoe Bend campsite on the Umpqua River. But as the afternoon rolled on, I surmised that I was falling behind my planned mileage. I skipped lunch and pressed on. Ran out of water on a section of the river where it was like a ravine – steep, overgrown banks. I spent 20 minutes getting down to the steep river’s edge on foot, filling several bottles of water, filtering it – all while keeping my balance and not falling in the river.

Umpqua Hot Springs was just off the North Umpqua River trail. The Umpqua Hot Springs sit about 300-400 feet above the Umpqua river, and flow out of the springs and down into the Umpqua river. I had heard that the hot springs was a landmark and had planned to visit them. But I was far behind on my planned trek (due to the forest fire), and so, did not take the short detour to get off the trail and up to the hot springs. The stream flowing from the hot springs into the Umpqua river was unusual when I rode over it. All other springs and streams created an area of cooler air immediately around them. But the stream coming down from the hot springs felt warm and muggy as I crossed over it.

The Umpqua Hot Springs has one oddity – it has been deemed a “clothing optional” area. I am not a “clothing optional” kind of guy, so passing the hot springs without visiting them was fine with me. Despite my choice, I still encountered a “clothing optional” man. As I pedaled down the trail near the hot springs, a nude man appeared in a camping area off the trail. He was talking to another man who was clothed. I rolled on, cranking up a hill to a gravel road where hot springs visitors parked their vehicles. Parked there was an assortment of vehicles, the most memorable of which was a hippie bus – an old school bus painted in psychedelic colors, with sheets hanging in the windows. Apparently the Umpqua Hot Springs are a place for people who want to live in the 1970’s. Far out, man.

Toketee Lake is two miles downriver from the Umpqua Hot Springs.  It was getting late, the sun was setting, and I was far from my destination for the day (my planned destination for the night was Horseshoe Bend camp on the Umpqua River). So I looked at the map and decided to stop at the next camp (the camp at Toketee Lake was about two miles downriver from the Umpqua Hot Springs). I rode into the camp at Lake Toketee late in the evening, over-heated, extremely dehydrated, and completely exhausted.

I had biked from 7:30 am to 9:00 pm and had skipped lunch. I knew that I was falling behind my mileage schedule and was trying to keep up by skipping lunch.

I needed to set up camp in a hurry, before I lost daylight – the sun had already set. Hungry, thirsty, and wiped out, I fought the impulse to lay down on the ground and die.  I needed to pitch my hammock and rainfly, wash myself in the river, tend to the cuts on my lower leg, clean my nasty clothes from the day, filter drinking water from the river, and eat.

In the midst of hurriedly setting up my hammock and rainfly (before night fell), a man and his wife strolled into my campsite and greeted me. The noticed my bike and gear, and were curious about my bikepacking trip. We introduced one another. I let them know that I was a flatlander from Texas, the basics of my bikepacking trip, the “challenges” of this day, and how I was wiped out, but kept it brief. They told me they were from central Oregon and were camping in their RV trailer at various places in the area. They heard about my ordeal to skirt the forest fire, saw my muddy, bloody shins, observed my state of dehydration, and sensed that it had been a tough day. It was hard for them to believe what I had done that day – they were amazed. They asked what I was eating. “Dried fruit and nuts”, I said, “no room for a stove and a gas canister in the bikepacking gear – a stove and gas canister are too much weight and volume for me.” They indicated that dried fruit and nuts was not much sustenance on which to recover. I said it was fine and told them I had been eating dried fruit and nuts for most of the week. I let them know that I needed to set up camp, clean up, and get water before dark. They told me a good place on the river to take a dip. I thanked them for the information and finished setting up camp.

The sun had set, and darkness was setting in as I grabbed water bottles and a change of clothes, and hurriedly headed to the river next to the camp at dusk. I filled my water bottles with water from the river (filtered it and immediately drunk two bottles), then filtered two more bottles for later use. Took a dip in the cold Umpqua river and rinsed out my grimy clothes from the day – shoes, socks, shirt, shorts, and bandana. My clothes were completely nasty – I rinsed out the sweat, dirt, and blood from my days ride.  The clear river water turned cloudy as I squeezed and rinsed my day’s clothes – I was sending a plume of muddy/cloudy water downstream. I put on a new set of clothing.

It was almost completely dark when I returned to my campsite to get some food. Upon my return, I found a paper bag sitting on the campsite’s picnic table. The paper bag was most certainly not mine. Inside the bag I discovered two bottles of cold water and three fat breakfast tacos. Each huge taco was a large tortilla stuffed full and wrapped in foil, and they were still warm. If you have ever been to Chipotle, each looked like a huge Chipotle taco. While I was down at the river, this couple had cooked up the breakfast tacos and put them on my camp site table. It was an astonishing blessing – I nearly cried.

I tore into the first taco like a wild dog – a tortilla stuffed with eggs, chicken, zucchini, mushrooms, and cheese. It was heaven! After I wolfed down the first taco, I slammed down a cool bottle of water. No manners, just inhaling the food and drinking like a madman. Then I attacked the second taco, demolishing it, all the while wondering how I might thank these strangers for their kindness. The third taco was just as juicy delicious as the first two. I could not believe the breakfast taco miracle!

Bag of breakfast tacos and cold water from two kind strangers. The gift of the breakfast tacos was a blessing that saved my life!

By now it was completely dark. I walked the camp in the night, attempting to find the kind friends. But it was too dark – most campers were inside their tents or camping vehicles, and I could not find them. I returned to my campsite and went to sleep in my hammock thanking God for the couple and for their complete kindness in the gift of fat breakfast tacos.

Looking back, this had been a hard day. But it had been a day of miracles…

1. I passed through the forest fire roadblock and got around the forest fire.
2. I did not get hurt or get heat exhaustion (thank you Jesus).
3. Three breakfast tacos appeared and saved my life (thanks to some kind Oregonians).

Mileage for Day 4 – 28 of the toughest miles on the trek.

Rough map of Day 4 ride.

Day 5 – Toketee Lake to Steamboat Falls