Category: Idaho

Categories
Idaho Our Trips

Bike Travel Weekend: Featherville Freakout, June 1-3

5/25/18 UPDATE:  We’ve got some AMAZING PRIZES from Tenkara USA, DRAGONtail Tenkara, Sinewave Cycles, Revelate Designs, Surly, WTB, Quality Bicycle Products and the Adventure Cycling Association to give away!  You could be a winner!  All you need to do is follow our social media channels (Facebook, Instagram, Twitter), sign up for our email mailing list and keep an eye out for instructions in GIVEAWAY posts!  You don’t have to attend the Featherville Freakout or participate in Bike Travel Weekend to win but it will definitely help your chances!

We’ve also added a handful of new hosted rides to the Featherville Freakout!  There are options for all ages and abilities!  Scroll down for the most current list.  Don’t see a ride that suits you and your crew?  Host your own!

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Bike Travel Weekend 2018 is the first weekend in June and coming up fast!  This will be the third year that the Adventure Cycling Association has organized this worldwide event, so what better opportunity to strike out on your first overnight trip or help get your friends hooked on bike travel!

We’re really excited about this event and the chance to share the excitement and camaraderie of self-supported riding with friends!  In honor of this once-a-year event, Bike Touring News HQ will be CLOSED on Friday, June 1!

We hope you’ll join us for the very first Featherville Freakout, June 1-3!  We want this to be an opportunity for riders of all ages and abilities to get out and sample a little slice of the spectacular riding here in Idaho, so rather than prescribing a route and setting the agenda we’re nailing down a meetup point and encouraging folks to plan their own adventures.  You can organize your own ride, invite your friends and tell us all about it around the campfire on the South Fork of the Boise River!  We’d love to see riders from all across the state come together for a weekend gathering of the bike travel tribe!  Here’s how it’s gonna go down:

Chapparal CG, back in July 2014

Our destination will be the Chapparal campground on the South Fork of the Boise – just upstream from the town of Featherville – for Friday and Saturday nights.  Nestled in the hills just south of the mighty Sawtooth Mountains, this stretch of road will be familiar to veterans of the Smoke ‘N’ Fire 400 or Idaho Hot Springs MTB Route.  There are ample opportunities for day riding, hiking, fishing, hot spring soaking, barstool rodeo, slingshot biathlon or any other outdoor games you want to play!

Route options to Chaparral could range from the seriously strenuous to super relaxed depending on your style and preference.  Make it as easy or challenging as you want!  No rules, no restrictions.  Just get your crew together, draw some lines on a map and come meet us riverside!

If you want to host your own ride to the Featherville Freakout (and we hope you do), register it with the ACA so that other folks in your area can find it and join in!  You can also register as a private event if you’d rather pick and choose your riding companions.  By registering, you’ll also enter to win a Co-Motion Divide bicycle and Amtrak tickets to Glacier National Park!

Want to let someone else handle the route planning and join in a ride?  Check out the list below.  Click the link to find more information and to register your participation.  You’ll get an sweepstakes entry for your trouble!  You can also contact the ride leader with any questions you might have.

 

CURRENT RIDE LISTING (updated 5/25/18)

 

Want to ride from Boise on Friday?  A group will depart Fort Boise/Military Reserve Park (main parking lot between ballfields and Mtn Cove Rd) promptly at 9am and ride to Featherville via this route.   Register your participation here for an entry in the sweepstakes and to add your name to the list of participants across the world.  Here’s a brief description of the ride to whet your appetite!

Terrain on the route varies from a nasty hike-a-bike out of Lydle Gulch to smooth pavement near Pine.  Mostly, we’ll be on maintained dirt roads that will vary from smooth and hardpacked to loose, sandy, rocky and/or washboarded.  Any competent dirt touring bike with ~2″ tires will do fine.

This track (more or less) follows the route of the Smoke ‘N’ Fire 400, taking in a variety of southern Idaho landscapes and a moderate amount of climbing – for Idaho that is.  We’ll roll eastbound out of town through Lydle Gulch to Black’s Creek Road and follow the tailwater of the South Fork through some stunning scenery.

After climbing out of the South Fork, we’ll pass through the town of Prairie and take advantage of resupply options at the Y-Stop and Prairie Store.

We’ll cruise across the open plain before climbing into the hills south of the Trinity Mountains in the Boise National Forest.  Stretch your legs, take in plenty of sustenance and get ready to climb!

We’ll summit the high point of the ride right around 6,000 feet before descending to the Anderson Ranch Reservoir section of the South Fork.  The route turns back to the north and passes through the town of Pine.  Pine Cafe and Cocktails will tempt us with hot food and cold beverages while the Nitz Pine Store provides convenience store essentials.

Gracious curves heading down toward Pine

From Pine, we’re in the home stretch!  FR 114 will carry us along the east bank of the South Fork as we climb at a mellow river grade toward Featherville.  12 miles past Pine, we’ll have arrived!

We expect the 87-mile ride will require 7-8 hours of ride time, so a 9am departure should get us into the campground with plenty of time to make camp, prepare food and maybe even get some fishing in before dark.

Saturday will be a free day with ample opportunity for all kinds of outdoor recreation.  We’ll return to Boise on Sunday via the same route or a variation.  If you want to ride with us, don’t forget to register your participation here for an entry in the sweepstakes and to join the ranks of bike travelers across the world!

Regardless of your route choice, we hope you’ll join us and thousands of people across the world for the Featherville Freakout, part of Bike Travel Weekend 2018!  See you on the South Fork!

#rideloaded #feathervillefreakout #biketravelweekend #biketouringnews

Categories
Idaho

Adventures On The Weiser River Trail

Over the last week in March, me, my boyfriend (Steve) and a friend (Gunning) decided to go on an early season bike packing trip.  Gunning and I rode borrowed bikes as this was our first long bike packing trip.  With 2 trips under his belt, Steve was the “expert” of the crew.  We decided on the Weiser River trail, an 84 mile stretch of gravel and dirt path created from the old train route. It starts just outside of New Meadows, Idaho and follows the Weiser River through forests and canyons, passing through several small towns along the way before ending in the town of Weiser. It is the longest rail trail in Idaho. We all are still in the “invincible” stages of life – 20’s and early 30’s, so we essentially hopped off the couch and set off on the 84 mile trip, originally planned for 3 days. Our butts were still in hibernation from the winter, uncalloused and unprepared.

Day 1:
With excitement building, we packed our stuff on Thursday and headed out after work to set our shuttle. Upon reaching Weiser, we realized that the map we got from a trail website just “forgot” to include directions to the end of the trail and overnight parking.  Instead it took us to a residential area.  Parking there sounded a little sketchy so I decided to go to a gas station to ask directions.  (If you get lost, just pull over somewhere and ask directions!)  We got directions to a park/fishing pond that was near the end of the trail.  Lo and behold, there is specific Weiser River Trail parking right at the end of the trail.  Who knew??  I guess that’s how websites suck you into a monthly/yearly subscription – withhold any important information until you pay.

During the first shuttle everyone was in high spirits.  Laughing and joking as we drove, we made up games to play on the trail.  Like 1st person to see a cool bird/animal/lizard etc would win something.  Or the first person to complain about the weather, say they’re cold or tired or admit to forgetting something really important had to buy everyone pie.  As we continued driving we left the lower elevations and got up into the mountains and snow lines.  We were expecting some snow, but not as much as there was.  We were using the same website’s directions to find the “start of the trail,” and we continued driving until it took us to a plowed private road and promptly wanted us to turn down an unplowed road with 2 feet of snow on it.  We passed by a couple of trailheads with all of the access roads unplowed and snowed in.  As it got darker and darker our stress levels started rising.  After the car got stuck in the snow, I was pretty over it.  Camping?  Nope.  Hotel?  Yep.  Day 1 ended in a New Meadows motel with gas station sandwiches for dinner.  So, using the logic that walking the bike while mountain biking is still mountain biking, staying at a hotel while bike packing is still bike packing since we have bikes with us.  Hey, maybe staying in a hotel is still camping, since we have our tents with us too!

Day 2:
We got up late to start the second day, because as newbies to this experience we completely over-estimated our abilities and under-estimated the conditions.  There was no rush to get started early.  Now, the hotel turned out to be a lot more useful than originally expected.  Not only did they have a detailed pamphlet of the entire trail, including trail heads, but the owner told us where we could park the car since the trailheads were impassable.  Score!  We parked at a restaurant that was still closed for the season and got all our gear ready.  It was still nippy in the morning, a little above freezing.  The excitement kept us warm as we outfitted our bikes and learned how all the gear worked.


We started out at mile marker 79 and there was at least 2 feet of snow on the trail.  The snow was not packed down at all, such as for snow biking groomed trails.  The trail looked like it hadn’t been used in quite some time.  The 3.8″ fat bike tires on my bike floated on top of the snow.  The guys didn’t have as much luck in the snow with only 3” wide tires and rear-wheel heavy loads.

The struggle at first was a challenge but in a good way. Try to keep your balance, finding the right spot on the trail to ride so your tires remained on top of the snow, body position so the bike wouldn’t skid out from under you. We took photos of each mile marker to show our progress, with Steve (who never takes pictures of anything) becoming our official trip photographer.




Later in the day. the top layer of frost/ice started to melt, and the snow got more difficult to ride on.  We started walking more than riding, stepping carefully so not fall through the snow. When you fell through, you fell up to your knees deep.  Nobody wore snow boots; I didn’t have waterproof pants on.  Snow got inside your shoes, inside your pants, up your sleeves; it was crusty and granular.  We covered 5 miles in 3 hours until we came to a spot on our map that showed the road was nearby.  The snow was sucking our energy so we decided to make it up to the highway.  The highway was above us about 30 feet, at the top of a very steep tree-lined incline.  Tempers flared as we all struggled to haul loaded bikes, backpacks and panniers up the slippery slope.  We crawled on hands and knees in 2 feet of deep snow.  The bikes got snagged in the trees.  We finally reached the road and went to a pullout to assess the situation, eat something and regroup.

It became a joke that the only Idaho native (me) started this trip wearing cotton socks.  That may be funny, or a camping faux pas, however remember the game about forgetting something really important?  Well, Gunning only brought 1 pair of socks.  For the whole trip.  And they were currently soaking wet.




Highway 95 is not a very bike friendly highway with limited shoulder space and many blind corners.  We slowly rode up the hills and then maxed out on the downhill.  I had never ridden a sustained section of downhill like that before!  We rode single file, Steve in the lead, me in the middle and Gunning on the end.  I got right up on Steve’s back tire and got to experience drafting on a bicycle for the first time!  I didn’t even have to pedal and I would gain on him!  We rode about 8 miles on the highway before we reached a fork in the road where the highway split off to Fruitvale and it was here we rejoined the trail.

This section of the trail was free of snow, fairly straight and flat.  The trees had not started to bloom yet and I bet when they do it would be like riding down a magical secluded path.  It was overcast and there was a slight breeze, warm enough so our wet shoes could dry out a bit.  This section was very near the river and we started seeing wildlife.  I had never seen wild turkeys before and there were flocks of them, big groups walking along the brush at the side of the trail.  Steve claims he saw a coyote, though nobody else did.  The only other person we saw on the trail was a man riding a donkey.  The donkey was skittish of the bikes and we were afraid he might try to trample us.  We dismounted and let him pass.



We had a goal of reaching Cambridge, the halfway point where we could camp and soak in a hot spring.  With 20 miles to Cambridge, the morning started to take its toll on me.  The first 10 miles were just uncomfortable and the last 10 were miserable.  All my energy was gone and my back hurt and my butt was on fire!  I was wearing a pair of padded biking shorts and it wasn’t helping much.  The only relief was to stick both my ninja mask and beanie down my pants to create more padding so I could continue to sit on the seat.

In Cambridge it became apparent that nobody actually knew where the camp ground/hot springs was.  I figured Steve knew since he knew the name of it.  Steve figured Gunning knew because he was in charge of camping.  I just showed up for this trip and didn’t contribute much by way of planning.  Asking directions take 2!  We ended up having to backtrack to get there, which added 5 miles to the trip.  5 horrible miles.  At this point I didn’t even care if we made it to the hot springs if we could just stop.  However, we pushed on.  Oh, the welcoming feeling of the hot water after a long day!  We had an hour to soak which was just perfect.  We set up camp in the grass and made dinner of dehydrated backpacking food.  Gunning tried to blow up camp, when somehow he unscrewed the release valve on his propane tank, releasing propane out the top. He had no idea how to close it!

Recap of Day 2:

  • 2 miles highway
  • 5 miles in the snow
  • 8 miles highway
  • 30 miles gravel
  • Total: approximately 45 miles in 10 hours

Day 3:
We woke up earlier than the day before but we didn’t get out of camp until 10am as we didn’t know how long it would take to break camp and re-pack everything.  The first time our butts touched the saddle when it was time to pull out of camp, it was agony!  They weren’t numb anymore and all the feeling came back. We were in high spirits when we left town and rode 10 really nice miles and stopped in a park to rest in Midvale.


The next 20 miles of trail go away from the road and you are in total seclusion.  Cell phones don’t work and there are no services.  You are in the canyon next to the river.  It was so quiet, no sounds from roads, cars or planes.  The only sound was the river and the occasional bird.  I was glad that it was still partly overcast and early enough in the season that even when the sun was out it wasn’t super hot and the bugs hadn’t woken up for the year yet.  There was no shade on this portion, and since I don’t believe in sunscreen until at least the middle of May, promptly got sun burned.  Gunning had been hauling his fishing pole the entire time and finally was able to use it, catching 1 smallmouth bass.  This section was rocky and we had to walk part of it.  There were also tons of snakes here, thankfully they were all still groggy and not agitated.



Ten miles from the end of the trail we stopped for lunch in the early afternoon.  We had ridden 30 miles so far this day and had the choice of stopping to camp for the night or continue.  I had hit my 30 miles-in-1-day wall and was pretty over it, so I let the guys decide what to do.



Continue on we did.  As with the day before, the last 10 miles of this trip were miserable for me.  At this point we were riding just to get done.  There was very little talking, no jokes, no exploring.  I didn’t even want to stop pedaling, thinking if I did I may not start again.  I was just counting down the mile markers, riding slower and slower as the miles passed.

Now we were near Weiser.  We started to see houses and farms.  Cows ran up to their fences to stare at us like they had never seen a person on a bike before.  Finally, we hit the asphalt section of the trail, which passed through Weiser.  We finished the trail at 730pm, glad to be done.  This was the most riding I had ever done.  The experience was worth it, and gave me a starting point to do better next time!

Recap of day 3:
40 miles in 7.5 hours

Categories
Idaho Our Trips Planning Resources Surly Bikes Touring Bike Tires

Testing the Pack Rat and Road Plus Tires on an April Fool’s Errand

Back in December 2017, Surly announced the release of a new front-loading light touring bike – the Pack Rat.  I was excited about the possibilities from the moment I learned of this bike’s existence and Bike Touring News was one of the first shops to stock them.  In the intervening 4 months, Surly has released no fewer than three more new models – the “Allroad” Midnight Special, a redesign of the Pugsley expedition fatbike and the entry-level dirt touring Bridge Club.

What with all this newness in such a short period, I was a little afraid that the humble Pack Rat might be forgotten.  I had already had favorable impressions from brief rides around town, so I set out to test this bike’s capabilities on a weekend ride.  I wanted to know if the Pack Rat was capable of loaded touring over the mix of terrain we commonly encounter here in Idaho and if this was a platform I could recommend for two-wheeled exploration past the end of the pavement.

In order for this road test to be meaningful, I’m going to need you to hang with me in the Land of Make-Believe for just a little while.  Got your Imagination Cap on?  Good.

I’m going to make a statement that should be treated as fact for the duration of this post.  Ready?

The bike pictured below is a Pack Rat.  Got it?

My old war horse of a touring bike – affectionately known as the Rando-Gnar – is nearly identical to the Pack Rat in every way that matters.  Both bikes are designed around 650b wheels with clearance for 47mm “Road Plus” tires.  Both feature geometry optimized for a front load.  Steel frames, drop bars, cantilever brakes, plenty of braze-ons for racks and cages.  Heck, they’re even (almost) the same color.  Nearly every component on the Rando-Gnar would move right over onto a Pack Rat frame.

In order to transform a stock Pack Rat into the bike you see above, all you need to do is mount a set of WTB Byway tires, drop the gearing down a bit and attach whatever racks and bags you deem necessary.  Boom, pow!  You’re ready to pack your gear and hit the road.

For this exploration of the Pack Rat’s touring capabilities, I mapped out a route that would cover around 160 miles of paved and dirt roads that would vary widely in condition.  I knew of one stretch of unmaintained road that would likely be in very poor condition.  The roads that climbed into the foothills of the Boise and Payette National Forests were more of an unknown quantity as I had not ridden them before.  I had some idea of what to expect and had been assured by a Forest Service Ranger that the roads were free of snow – though I had my doubts.  Most of the remainder consisted of varying qualities of pavement and maintained dirt roads.

I set out from Boise on smooth pavement and re-adjusted to the ride of a loaded bike.  My haphazard packing strategy resulted in a heavier bike than I would have liked but I felt confident that I was well prepared for the unpredictable springtime weather and road conditions.  Rolling tubeless at 42psi, the Byways cruised down the pavement nearly as fast as a good racing tire.  I felt the weight of my load when the road turned uphill but the ride was speedy and efficient overall.

When the road turned to dirt in the rolling foothills north of Eagle, the Pack Rat pressed ahead with aplomb.  Traction was adequate for out-of-the-saddle riding over some of the steeper pitches, though I had to be conscious of my weight distribution to prevent the rear tire from slipping on looser ground.

From the saddle at the top of Sand Hollow Road, our route descended the unmaintained Johnson Creek Road to the Payette River.  This road bears deep, rutted scars from heavy truck use in wet conditions and is very eroded in spots.  We rolled in, enjoying the views while keeping to the high ground between the ruts.

The ruts were nearly three feet deep in spots but the clay was hard and firmly packed, making for predictable traction even at off-camber angles.

One section of the road has been completely taken over by the creek and presents about a quarter-mile of bumpy riding over loose, slippery river rocks.  I rode cautiously but never felt in danger of bottoming out my tires.

Johnson Creek Road drops into Shalerock Road, a wide and well-maintained dirt road that descends into the Montour Valley.  We basked in the dusky light on the descent to the Montour Campground for the first night’s camp.

After a hearty breakfast at the Triangle Cafe we struck out to the north the next morning, gradually gaining elevation on the paved Sweet/Ola highway.  The snowy mountaintops in the distance made me wonder about the elevation of the snow line.

The road turns to dirt a couple of miles past the little town of Ola.  Conditions were excellent – nicely packed clay with a scattering of loose pea to marble-sized gravel.  The Pack Rat carried speed well and cornered confidently.

I was forced to adapt my pedaling rhythm to the lumpy terrain and the Pack Rat responded well – forging forward to crest each roller as I rose out of the saddle.

The Byway tires provided a sufficiently large contact patch and plenty of cushioning to keep the bike composed on the quick descents.  Momentum is everything when pedaling a loaded bike, so it was nice to have the confidence to let the bike run on the short downhills and carry good speed into the next climb.

The road continued to wind its way north, following Squaw Creek toward its headwaters in the Payette National Forest.  We were getting close to 4,000 feet above sea level and entering the pine forest, so we began to encounter wet conditions and sections of slushy snow on the road.

The 47mm tires sank somewhat into the softened road surface, slowing their roll and forcing me to work harder for the same speed.  However, they certainly provided more traction and flotation than narrower tires would have.

The road began to climb more steeply and the snowy stretches became longer until they became practically uninterrupted.

While the snow was not very deep, the Byway’s diamond tread didn’t provide enough bite for steering or pedaling through the slippery slush.  Likewise, the 47mm width was not sufficient to say on top of the crust layer.  I could ride brief stretches when the road leveled out but climbing was not possible.

When I was able to ride, I was constantly attempting to correct my line and keep the bike from sliding out from under me.  A mountain bike with 2-3″ tires would have handled these conditions much better than the Pack Rat but would have also been sluggish on the pavement and smooth dirt roads.

We pressed on despite the snow-covered road.  Traction was sufficient for walking and I didn’t think the pass was all that distant.  In hindsight, I probably should have paid attention to the omens and turned back.

The snow continued to get deeper until it dragged at the bottom of my panniers.  The north-facing section of road just over the summit held drifts at least 3 feet deep.  I’m sure this road will be spectacular in a couple of months when all the snow is gone!  I don’t know how long it took to cover the 8 or 9 snowy miles but the time would definitely be measured in hours.

Clearly, these conditions were well outside the Pack Rat’s intended use.  Even a fatbike with 5″ tires would have been useless in snow that deep and wet.  I could have certainly saved myself some pain and suffering by turning back but I had made good time earlier in the day and knew I had sufficient daylight to get through.   I pushed, dragged, slipped and postholed over and down the pass, hoping that my planned campsite wouldn’t be under snow.

The campground still held some snow but there was plenty of dry ground.  I breathed a sigh of relief to have arrived and then set about drying my shoes and feet, eating food and doing my best to recover for tomorrow’s 90+ mile burn back to Boise.

I slept deeply and woke feeling surprisingly fresh after the previous day’s exertions.  I made breakfast, pulled on my frozen shoes and hit the road just as the sun began to peek over the eastern ridge.  The forest service road had yet to shake off the night’s chill.  Yesterday’s soft, wet mud and slippery slush had hardened into frozen dirt and roughly textured ice.  The Pack Rat excelled in these conditions, though I rode the icy sections cautiously and did walk a couple of slicker stretches.

Before long, the road reemerged from the trees and dried completely.  Conditions on the southbound leg started off similar to the northbound side. The cloud-filtered sun warmed the air and I enjoyed the (mostly) downhill grades and undulating terrain.  The Pack Rat hummed along, carrying speed through the troughs and over the top of the endless rollers.

When we hit the Washington County line road conditions changed drastically.  The road had recently been graded and was evenly surfaced with 1-2″ size gravel.  I’d estimate the gravel had been laid no more than a week prior.  There were decent tracks laid down by auto traffic through most stretches but the rock lay in piles several inches deep in some spots.  Line choice was key, but the Pack Rat handled these challenging conditions admirably.  I’ve often felt that slimmer tires perform well in these kinds of conditions as they are narrow enough to push the loose rocks aside and grip on the hardpack beneath where a wider tire would float and roll on the top layer.

After turning off the recently-graded stretch of road conditions improved.  There were some seriously steep climbs on this leg of the ride that I would have wished away but the Pack Rat never held me back.  My legs had begun to tire and struggled to supply the necessary power.

Approaching the town of Emmett, it began to look like the highway would be a better option than returning via yet more nasty rollers in the Eagle foothills.  My body was tired and shadows were getting long.  We spun our way down the paved highway shoulder into the valley, turned to the east and finished the final few miles back to Boise.  My pedal strokes were weak and I was happy to be on a bike that rolled efficiently and didn’t ask for much leg strength to maintain forward progress on the asphalt and chipseal.

Overall, I came away from this ride even more excited for the Pack Rat’s potential.  It may not be your go-anywhere touring bike.  There are plenty of roads, tracks and trails over seriously rugged terrain in Idaho where a little more bike (Ogre, Troll, ECR, Bridge Club, etc.) would be a better fit.  It also won’t carry a transcontinental load as well as the Long Haul or Disc Trucker.  However, if you want a bike to travel a mix of dirt and pavement with a light-to-medium load on the weekend, pull double-duty on the weekday commute and have a good time doing it, the Pack Rat is worth your attention.  If nothing else, it’ll get you out of town and into the fun stuff in a hurry!

Categories
Idaho Our Trips

Little Weiser April Fool’s Errand: March 30 – April 1, 2018

Spring has arrived here in Boise!  Time to strike out on our first overnight trip of the year!  Here’s the route we’re planning to attempt:

https://ridewithgps.com/routes/27089400

The broad valley north of the Payette river and east of the West Mountain range has offered hospitable springtime conditions in years past.  Last year we rode to the Montour campground and did a big, looping day ride back to camp on the “Grindola” route.  Photos on this post were taken over that weekend in May 2017.  This year we’re thinking of heading a little farther north into the Payette National Forest and (hopefully) spending the night on the Little Weiser River.  Come join us!

First of all, let’s get the disclaimer out of the way.  This is not a bike event.  This is a self-supported, weekend bike ride with a group of friends.  All riders are responsible for their own safety and enjoyment, should come prepared to be 100% self-sufficient and have their own self-rescue or bailout plans in place.  Do not count on cell phone service.  We are offering a route suggestion, some potentially useful (or potentially inaccurate) information and nothing more.  That said, riding bikes is fun, overnight rides are even more fun and we welcome any and all riders who want to join in for any portion of the weekend’s journey!

OK, let’s get to the good stuff!  The plan is to close the shop a couple of hours early so we can leave Bike Touring News HQ at 4pm on Friday, March 30.  That’s right, the shop is CLOSING EARLY!  That will give us plenty of daylight for the 27-mile pedal through the Eagle Foothills and down the other side to the Montour WMA campground.

The descent down the Johnson Creek road hasn’t received any maintenance (that we know of) at least since last summer, maybe longer.  It is likely to be in poor shape and may not be 100% rideable.  There is one extended section where the creek has taken over the road.  This mile-ish stretch will likely be running with at least a couple inches of water and is paved with round, sometimes loose babyhead rocks.  Be prepared to walk/carry your bike if the going gets rough.

The Montour Campground is tucked in a shady grove just on the north side of the Black Canyon Reservoir section of the Payette.  The campground will likely still be closed for the season but water has flowed and bathrooms have been unlocked in previous springs.

The Montour Country Store and Triangle Restaurant (marked on the RideWithGPS route) are just a short pedal away for meals, beverages and general resupply.

Day 2 will cover around 50 miles of paved and unpaved roads.  We’ll gradually climb northbound through Ola with a probable stop at the Ola Cafe for lunch before continuing into the fringes of the Payette National Forest.  The Cafe will be the last on-route resupply until we pass through Emmett on the way back south, so stockpile those calories!

The day will end with the climb over the Mill Creek Summit and descent to the Little Wieser River, camping at the Big Flat campground or thereabouts.  This will be new territory, so we’re not certain what to expect.  We’ll just have to go there and find out.

Word from the Ranger on duty at the Council district office is that the roads up to and over the Mill Creek Summit (topping out right around 5,000 feet) should be snow-free.  I (Ryan) was surprised to hear that given the snow line here in Boise but we’ll just have to go there and find out.

Per the Ranger, the campground is closed but still useable – though toilets may be locked and water shut off – or we may seek an alternative spot to dispersed camp.  Will there be fish in the river?  We’ll just have to go and find out.

Day 3 will be the big day mileage-wise with a 90+ mile push back to Boise.  However, we’ll gradually be losing elevation and the roads should be pretty fast as we head southbound toward Emmett.  We’ll refuel in town for the climb out of the valley before dropping back to Boise through the Eagle foothills.   With an early start on Sunday morning we should have plenty of daylight for the return trip.

Can’t get out of work early on Friday?  Looking to trim some miles or skip the ride out of town?  Park your vehicle at Montour and ride Saturday and Sunday!  Shorter overnight and day ride options also abound in the area.  Choose your own adventure!

Weather:  NOAA weather near Big Flat CG (near high point of the ride)  Lows are forecast to be right around freezing, highs in the low-mid 50s.  Only a slim chance of precipitation, but it is springtime in Idaho so be prepared for anything.

Bike Choice:  Much of the route travels decently paved or maintained dirt roads.  Conditions will vary depending on level of maintenance but at least some rough conditions should be expected.  The Johnson Creek descent is likely to offer up the roughest conditions we encounter.  Any good dirt touring bike with 2″ish tires will probably do fine over 95% of the route.

Questions?  Email [email protected], call the shop (208-806-2111) or stop by!  See you out on the road!

Categories
Bike Touring Tips Bikepacking Idaho Other Tours and Rides

Looking Back On 2017 – Experiences and Insights for the First Time Bikepacker

Hey there, my name is Matthew Wordell. Earlier this fall when Ryan took over Bike Touring News, he asked me to write a brief retrospective on my experiences bikepacking Idaho in 2017. I live and work in Boise as a freelance photographer (Instagram | Website). I’m fairly new to the sport and my hope is that some of what I write here will inspire that one person who has wanted to try bike touring or bikepacking to take the plunge and head out on their first ride. Full disclosure: This is my first attempt at writing a blog of this nature, so thanks in advance to those of you who finish the whole thing <3

For anyone reading this who isn’t already familiar with Bikepacking, this is a great definition from Bikepacking.com – 

“Simply put, bikepacking is the synthesis of mountain biking and minimalist camping; it evokes the freedom of multi-day backcountry hiking, with the range and thrill of riding a mountain bike. It’s about forging places less travelled, both near and afar, via singletrack trails, gravel, and abandoned dirt roads, carrying only essential gear. 

A common misconception is that bikepacking requires a small fortune to fully appreciate; the perfect bike, custom bags, and all the latest ultralight camping gear. While investing in quality gear is never a bad idea, it’s certainly not a necessity to get you up and running. Start by using what you own and picking a short overnight route near home (30-60 miles). Discover what you really need through experience.”

With that, here’s the official beginning of this blog:

Bikepacking in 2017 begins as any other year should – far too early, far too cold, and with little regard for the forecasts prediction of rain and cold. With my bags packed and work finished for the day, the itching desire to saddle up and head for Shaw Mountain becomes palpable. Hurriedly, I lock the door to my small North End apartment and ride through downtown Boise to meet several friends who will be joining for the evening. The plan, a quick sub-24 hour ride up to the ridge road where we’ve often set up for simple overnight campouts, cook dinner, drink whiskey, survive the cold, and bomb down the mountain for work in the morning. The landscape by Shaw Mountain offers a beautiful panoramic view of the city below, stars above, and a perfect silence I’ve come to love in wooded areas, away from trafficked dirt roads. I’m still astonished a place like this exists less than a two-hour ride from town.

For us, this ride is a tradition at the beginning of the year, something we simply like calling “Wednesdays Are For Bikepacking.” It’s our way of taking advantage of Boise’s proximity to forested and lesser traveled areas along the ridge between Bogus Basin and Shaw Mountain.

While making the final adjustments to our gear, a deep purple wash of clouds gathers across the western horizon, casting the day into inky purple darkness and casting doubt into our minds about whether or not it is really a good idea to follow through on the years first mid-week overnighter. None of us were really up for freezing to death on the first ride of the year, but it’s hard to say no to something we’ve looked forward to for so long. Nearly impossible this time after surviving the brutal snowpocalyptic winter that ravaged Idaho for months.

Thinking we could beat the rain to the ridge, we begin the climb. Cresting Reserve Road and descending toward the choppy gravel of Rocky Canyon Rd., the weather takes a quick turn for the worse, rain beginning to come down in sheets. Less than 25 minutes into the ride we’re soaked, frozen, and laughing uncontrollably. For a moment, I think we all hate it, each of us knowing that turning around and spending a warm night at home would be infinitely easier than the cold night ahead. But it was the inclement weather that confirmed what we had partially forgotten through the winter – what we really love about bikepacking.

Facing the unexpected and working through physical challenge isn’t something we experience all too often in day-to-day life. Routines dictate much of our schedule and for the lucky few (depending on what you consider lucky) who are self employed there’s still a healthy level of predictability you need to maintain in order to keep things afloat. Backpacking, bike touring, or any other sport that carries you beyond the routine and predictable motions of civilization provides an incredible opportunity to connect to the unknown, to face challenges, and to push through moments when giving up seems to be the only option. Finding joy in the pain, laughing at it with your friends. In the moment, this is the message I feel is being delivered to us by this god awful weather.

Reaching the top of the ridge, the storm finally breaks and sunlight explodes across the horizon, bathing the surrounding pine trees in purple and orange streaks of light. It’s a beautiful end to a short and painful ride and a great way to start the year. We stand together on the ridge taking it all in before piling into a small two person tent with our sleeping bags, cook kits, food, and whiskey. The tent is way too small, but it’s the only way we’ll be able to warm up before heading to our own tents and falling asleep for the night. It’s crazy to think home is less than 15 miles away. It’s a Wednesday night. We have work in the morning.

I’m fairly new to mountain biking and only recently discovered bikepacking in 2016, but it has completely changed my understanding of why I ride bikes. For readers who are interested in trying it out, I’ll try to include bits of information that hopefully make the first step a little less intimidating.

Each trip I take I learn something new about the equipment I use and my approach to riding – a new way to pack my bags, a better way to make coffee, a more efficient way to access certain types of gear, slower climbs, more snacks, taking time to swim in the middle of the day, and how to plan routes to keep the riding fun and the opportunities for beer plentiful. The process of trial and error is important in any sport, but I feel it’s especially important for bikepacking as the first couple rides can often feel the most intimidating. Never fear, everyone has their own idea of what works so it’s worth experimenting with your packing setup! Here’s a few pro tips to get you started:

  • For your first ride, try packing as light as possible to achieve maximum suffer points and garner extra kudos from all those ultralight riders on instagram who spend half their ride wondering if they actually needed that extra pair of wool underwear (they didn’t). For this all you’ll need is several packets of instant coffee, a cook kit for boiling water, and nothing more.
  • Once you’ve endured the pain of step one and have successfully realized camping is a lot more fun when you’re comfortable, you can now try packing a little heavier, a great way to impress yourself and your riding partner. For this “medium weight” approach, carefully stow away that handsome pour-over setup you’ve been dying to try out in the forest while the sun peaks over a wooded ridge, the steam of your fresh pot of boiling water lingering above a nearby brook, while you think to yourself more than once “can life get much better than this?” If you’re the lucky chap who remembered to grind your coffee before hitting the trail, then the answer to that question is yes. Absolutely yes.
  • Last but not least, there are the mystical few who have been called by Zeus himself to go “fully loaded.” Be careful who you discuss this approach with, a careless slip of the fully loaded tongue in the wrong company could lead to temporary lack of invitations to participate in those mid-summer bikepacking rides your buddies are all posting about on social media. Some will say this approach is unnecessary but if you’ve budgeted time for premium, grade-A nature-indulgence it might just be the right option for you. This setup requires a trip to your local co-op or natural foods store to purchase one pound of whole-bean single source coffee, your hand-operated burr grinder, and that freshly polished glass french press you haven’t used in two months. For the full effect of traveling “fully loaded,” pack a four-set of enamel mugs for you and your new friends who were laughing at the beginning of the ride but now realize you’re an absolute genius.

For me, I’ve had to strike a balance between efficient riding and efficient good times once I’ve reached my destination. For that reason, I usually opt for the pour-over approach with a few additions. A block of dubliner cheese, a mini Bota Box of seasonally appropriate wine, a bar of chocolate, and maybe a shooter or two of some hard alcohol to take the edge off a big downhill section or when you make camp way later than planned and end up taking a pitch-black midnight bath in that nearby freezing river.

In my opinion the best first rides are along rivers, the grades are more predictable, you can stop and swim if the day gets too hot, and you have all the water you need for dinner once you make camp. Pick one, find a place to park, pack up your bike, and ride until you find a badass spot to camp. Strangers will help you if you get into trouble. It’s something I have to remember every time I leave the house for one of these rides, people are willing to help if you need it. Don’t be afraid to ask for directions and recommendations, 95% of the time people know the area better than you do.

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned along the way is that shit breaks, gear fails, and people forget things. It sucks but it’s part of the fun (just don’t forget your sleeping bag and cook kit). Learning how to improvise and exist without the conveniences of everyday life is an oddly valuable skill and something you gain almost immediately while practicing any type of minimalist camping. On my first bikepacking trip, a friend and I didn’t have anything to use for chairs while eating dinner and lounging by the fire, so we decided to build make-shift stools out of pine bark. It seemed like a brilliant idea, but after kicking back for a few minutes we quickly discovered that his was infested with ants. Live and learn. Upon returning, we immediately went to REI and bought A-lite Monarch chairs and have packed them with us on nearly every trip since.

So yeah, back to 2017:

As May and June come into bloom, my rides seek out new vantage points, less traveled roads, more difficult climbs, lakes, rivers, and hot springs. I always have to include hot springs when possible. Normally I feel a drive to explore beyond the borders of my state, but this year it feels good to discover small towns in the mountains, talk to people who live there, learn of their favorite places to camp nearby, and wash myself in crystal clear river water at the end of a day. Its a year spent building my relationship with Idaho, deepening our connection, and discovering places I will surely return to year after year.

Almost every weekend, I find myself coursing like the wind along sweeping dirt roads, rambling through the high valleys, pine groves, and sagebrush of Boise National Forest, filling my body with a sense of freedom. Roads I’ve hardly noticed while driving become new passageways to a realization of the beauty that surrounds me here in this state. A sense of thankfulness with every turn, like my whole existence is breathing in the wild air of this place. It feels amazing. Each ride feels like a liberation from something, each experience building my confidence in the gear and skills I take with me.

 

Autumn arrives and the tone of life in the wilderness changes, nights are cooler, the weather holds longer in its whims. All through summer we’ve talked of a ride to Atlanta and the annual Atlanta-Days festival is fast approaching. Five of us decide to meet at Trinity Hot Springs just outside of Pine, ride to Featherville and begin the climb through Rocky Bar and over to the Middle Fork Boise River where we connect up to Atlanta. It’s an arduous ride complete with several stops for water and naps in the shade once we reach the top. Arriving in Atlanta as the sun slowly dips toward the horizon, we set up our tents near a group of rustic cabins on the edge of town, unload our bikes, and ride to a nearby water hole called “The Clubhouse.” My favorite part of any hard ride is swimming in ice cold water afterward and this spot was especially cold.

The next day we climb up Phifer Creek Road and traverse Trinity Mountain Road, probably sweating at least half of our body weight along the way. Of all the places I rode this summer, the road to Trinity Mountain is the most beautiful of them all. The views, the clean air, the lack of motorized traffic all combine for an incredible dust-free suffer fest on the way up, and an adrenaline filled flight down the backside. We camp at Big Trinity Lake that night, a bear demolishes an ice chest in the campsite next to us but I sleep right through it, the difficult ride working as an impenetrable sedative on my mind. The photographs below catalogue our trip. Enjoy!

For anyone who is interested, I’m always changing my setup and trying new things. This is usually what I roll with:

Bike:

Clothing:

  • Patagonia capilene leggings
  • Arc’teryx thermal base layer top
  • Icebreaker wool socks for camp
  • 7 Mesh Bibs under shorts
  • Kask Mojito Helmet
  • Swiftwick socks for riding
  • Specialized BG Gel riding gloves
  • Cotton t-shirt
  • Sunglasses / cycling glasses
  • Chacos
  • A random beanie
  • Patagonia down sweater
  • Running shorts for camp / swimming / etc
  • Cycling cap or baseball cap

Electronics:

  • No-name rechargable battery pack
  • iPhone 6s
  • Fuji X100T digital camera
  • Blackdiamond Headlamp
  • Sinewave Cycles Beacon light & USB charging cables
  • Kindle (if I’m traveling alone)
  • Earbud headphones

Sleep setup:

  • Tarptent Notch with poles
  • REI Flash Pad
  • REI Igneo sleeping bag
  • Sea-to-Summit inflatable pillow

Other:

  • A-Lite Monarch Chair
  • Outpost Titanium Pot & Pan (lid)
  • Snowpeak Gigapower Pocket Stove
  • MSR Fuel Canteen
  • Good-to-Go dehydrated meal (Thai Curry changed my life)
  • Spork
  • Vapur 2 liter soft bottle
  • MSR Trail Shot water filter
  • REI pack towel
  • Tool kit (Parktool chair breaker, needle, thread, tire levers, Co2, mini hand-pump, patch kit, etc)
  • Pocket knife
  • Enamel mug
  • Collapsible Helix Coffee Maker + coffee grounds in a pill bottle
  • Tons of snacks
  • Beer / Mini Box of wine / Whiskey / Take your pick

Categories
Bikefishing Bikepacking Idaho Idaho Hot Springs Mountain Bike Route Other Our Trips Surly Bikes

Middle Fork Sub24O


A few months back, I came across a small article about a Sub24O ride from Crouch, ID to Boiling Hot Springs. After posting said article to Facebook, I find that I have 3 general types of friends, the kind that will click that little ‘heart button’ and then comment something like “you are so badass, I wish I could do something like this”, well dude you could, and you should. Then there are the people, who you probably haven’t spoken to in years, that will like and share the post and then go do it on their own, with their own bike touring squad. The best kind, however, are the ones that text you later, with genuine interest, and over tacos you start to develop a plan. Many beers and several puns later, a weekend was chosen and the gears were put in motion (pun intended).

The thing is about drinking beer while planning a bike trip, some of the fine details get lost in translation… A bit of advice I’ll share with you, something I’ve learned in my bike touring endeavors, always have a plan B, in fact always have at least a plan B, probably a plan C, and just for good measure, keep plan D tucked away in your back pocket. The weekend I picked for this adventure just so happened to be the first weekend after the start of Boise State’s Fall Semester, and with my touring partner in the middle of earning his MBA, he had to back out at the last minute. I’ve toured alone before, see ‘Crazy girl rides across Oregon’, so I had no qualms about setting out on my own, but when the Bike Hermit and Sky King caught wind of the trip, they felt it necessary to join in on the fun. And so, after a few beers, I left the two of them to pour over maps of the route that I had planned for months, double checking all the details and making sure I hadn’t just made the whole thing up.

The next morning I pulled up to Bike Touring News at 0900, gear spread across the entirety of the garage, Revelate frame bags, Surly junk straps, Hennessy Hammocks, BTN water bottles and various bits of clothing needing to be packed and loaded into the truck. I tried to keep my cool as I stuffed my sleeping gear into my handlebar bag, a Revelate SweetRoll that was fighting back. An hour later, we were heading out, driving in circles so the Bike Hermit could find an ethanol free gas station (Horseshoe Bend does have ethanol free for future reference). As the temps rose into the high 80’s we pulled into Crouch, finding a spot suitable for overnight parking, next to the log cabin that doubles as the town hall. Thankfully the City of Crouch offers free WIFI, thus I was able to get a shot of the fully loaded Karate Monkey off to my many instagram followers (all 50 of them). At noon, I headed up Middle Fork Rd, a few minutes ahead of the Bike Hermit and Sky King.

The first 8 or so miles are rolling pavement flowing past a mixture of old barns, open fields and modern homes perched along the Middle Fork of the Payette River. Once the road hits the boundary of the Boise National Forest, it turns to gravel with both designated and primitive camp spots every few miles. The steady climb takes you past several fishing and/or swimming opportunities, which despite their remote location seem to surge with popularity on weekends. Most of the motorists and ATV users were respectful to the ‘Share The Road’ signage, but without doubt, we did encounter the occasional driver who seemed to give zero shits about the lives of cyclists. I would highly recommend bringing an extra handkerchief to tie up bandit style for this exact reason, protecting yourself from the intermittent dust bowls. The 16 miles of gravel transitions from washboard, to packed dirt, to deep layers, making us thankful for the 3” tires in place on the Surly ECR, Troll and Karate Monkey.

In late August, the Middle Fork runs at just above 100 CFS, making it the perfect time to access the natural hot springs requiring river crossings to access. The low flow also leaves small pockets above sections of rapids where brook trout made futile attempts to hide from the Bike Hermit’s Tenkara Rod. The short distance from Crouch to our destination allowed us for plenty of time to stop and fish with daylight left to set up camp. At mile 16, the road forks, the east taking you along the traditional main route of the Idaho Hot Springs trail, the north taking you up to Boiling Hot Springs, our intended destination. Sky King’s research showed that the designated camp spot at Boiling Springs would cost $16.00, more than the cost of gas to get from Boise to Crouch, leading us to look for a primitive spot along the river. Just below Silver Creek, along a stretch of river where several trout could be seen with the naked eye jumping in the afternoon sunlight, we set up camp for the night. IPA’s supplied by Mother Earth Brewing were cooled in the sub 60 degree water and fly rods were rigged for slaying. As the sun set below the canyon, the fishing slowed and Sky King whipped up a delicious riverside happy hour consisting of crackers, cheese and red peppers. After refueling, the Bike Hermit and I headed north in search of undiscovered trout waters, scurrying down steep embankments to the deep pockets protected by downed trees and large boulders. We fished until dark before drifting off in Hennessy Hammocks to the sound of the river bubbling close by. 

The quiet of the remote location and the lack of sun in the canyon allowed us to sleep in well past 0900 and we took our time packing up in the cool morning air. The Bike Hermit revealed his ninja fast packing skills, training from coffee drinking, jogger pants wearing, sunday breakfast type guy into the Bike Hermit in less than 10 minutes, a real Clark Kent to Superman type moment.
It wasn’t until we had gone a few miles before we realized how much of a steady climb we had undertaken the day before, making it a true Sunday Funday. The extra time allowed us to stopped at Fire Crew Hot Springs, the Bike Hermit fished while Sky King and I explored the warm pools on the west side of the river. We came out of the canyon in the late Sunday afternoon heat, making the last few miles a bit harsh. Thankfully The Dirty Shame serves up a good burger and the squad was once again smiling while reliving tales from the past 24 hours.

Bike Touring News endorses this ride for numerous reasons

  • quick overnighter not far from home with options to go further.
  • road surface is doable – could ride w/ 32 mm tires (mildly rough – washboards, sand and gravel)
  • gradual climbing
  • great shake down trip for new gear, new bike packers, new bikes etc.
  • plenty of water at various campgrounds along the way (or take a filter)
  • hot springs (is on the Adventure Cycling Idaho Hot Springs Route)
  • successful fishing

 

Categories
Idaho Our Trips Tours and Rides

Boise Ridge Road Randonnee: Sunday, June 25

Ready for some challenge and adventure up in the Boise Foothills?  Come ride the third annual Boise Ridge Road Randonnee!  The ride takes in 45 miles with around 7,000 feet of climbing on rugged dirt roads, ATV tracks, a little singletrack and even some pavement.  Though the climbing will test your legs, the views are well worth the effort!  There are also multiple bail-out options for a shorter trip.

This is an unsupported, unsanctioned ride.  You are responsible for your own safety and enjoyment.  Ryan will provide a turn-by-turn cue sheet with a suggested route but you are on your own and free to make your own decisions.  Read on for the details!

The Climbing Begins…

START:  Boise Co-Op (8th and Fort St.) Meet at 8:45.  Ride departs promptly at 9:00am, Sunday June 25.

FINISH:  Sun Ray Cafe (13th and Eastman).  Expect around 8 hours ride time for the complete route depending on fitness and stopped time.

Steep pitches on the Ridge Road, headed toward Lucky Peak

ROUTE DETAILS:  Many sections of the route are unmaintained and conditions are unpredictable.  Expect loose, sandy, rocky and/or rutted conditions in certain places.  Much of the route is also very exposed to the sun, so protect yourself and be sure to start hydrated!  View the route on RideWithGPS here. 

Classic section of Ridge Road with killer views of the Treasure Valley

BIKE SELECTION:  Wide tires (1.75″/42mm and up) and low gears are highly recommended.  Suspension won’t hurt but isn’t necessary.  Any good mountain bike or dirt touring bike will be be fine.  Road, cyclocross or pavement touring bikes are not a good option.

Grinding up switchbacks from Aldape Summit

RESUPPLY NOTES:   There are no resupply options en route with the exception of the Ranch Market at mile 6.5.  Water may be filtered from Robie Creek between mile 30 and 33.  Be prepared to carry all food, water and supplies you will need to complete the route.

The fast, “post-apocalyptic” descent toward Robie Creek

Questions?  Comments?  Sound off below!  You can also head over to the Facebook event page to RSVP or share with your friends.  Don’t forget to tag your photos:  #RidgeRoadRandonnee #BR3 #RidgeRoadRandonneurs #BikeTouringNews.  Let’s Ride!

Categories
Idaho Our Trips Planning Resources Tours and Rides

Grindola Weekend Ride: May 19-21

Spring has finally arrived in southern Idaho and it’s time for a good overnight bike trip!  We’re planning a ride for next weekend and want you to come along!

 

Spring Riding

 

For the record, this is not an organized bike race or event and is unsupported, unsanctioned and in no way affiliated with Bike Touring News.  We are offering a suggested route and meeting place/time; nothing more.  You are 100% responsible for yourself and every aspect of your participation.

 

photo by David Jones / @awakenengage

 

Disclaimers aside, we hope you’ll join us for what we hope will be a great weekend!  Here’s one version of the plan:

Friday, May 19

  • Depart Bike Touring News (3853 Garden Center Way) at 4pm.  Ride to Montour Campground.
  • Approx. 27mi & 1,800ft elevation gain.  Mostly paved or well-graded dirt roads with some sustained climbing.
  • https://ridewithgps.com/routes/20783892
  • UPDATE:  The campground is open!  16 spaces available for overnight camping at $8.00/day, as well as dispersed tent camping for $3/day. Campsites are available on a first-come, first-served basis. Potable water and bathrooms are available.

Saturday, May 20

  • Ride the “Grindola” route mapped by David Robert Jones (@awakenengage)
  • Approx. 84mi & 6,500ft elevation gain.  Mostly rolling dirt roads with some sustained climbs and pavement sections.
  • https://ridewithgps.com/routes/20809180
  • Some riders are planning on splitting this segment into an overnighter, camping somewhere at the northern end of the route.
  • For purposes of camping Saturday night we are considering riding this counterclockwise, camping just after the Dodson Pass.

Sunday, May 21

  • Ride back to town via Friday’s route or an alternative.

 

 

Want to Trim some Miles?  Shorten the Trip!

There will also be a number of folks driving from Boise to Montour, either Friday night or Saturday morning.  Email [email protected] or call the shop to inquire about ride sharing.  Parking may be limited at the campground but perhaps we can leave cars at the Triangle Cafe.  This itinerary is only a suggestion and you’re welcome to make adjustments or do your own thing!

 

Rolling Johnson Creek

 

Bike Suggestions

Wide tires and low gears will make for happy riders.  We’d consider 35mm rubber the minimum, though some prefer the more exotic brand of suffering delivered by skinny tires on Idaho gravel.

We’re psyched to ride and hope you are too!  Call, email or comment with any questions!

 

photo by David Jones / @awakenengage
Categories
Bikepacking Idaho Living Vicariously Our Trips Surly Bikes Tours and Rides

Riding the Boundary: South Fork Owyhee Wilderness

In our overpopulated world, there are few places where humans rarely venture.  For better or worse, our species has learned how to make a living in just about every environment on Earth and has left only a precious handful of habitats unmolested.  Even in the most remote corner of Idaho – a state with more protected Wilderness than any in the lower 48 – evidence of human history is everywhere.  However, just because humans have been everywhere on our planet doesn’t mean they’re still around.  Some environments are not welcoming to our fragile and demanding bodies.  Despite the challenges of survival in hostile and difficult conditions, wild and unpopulated places call out to us.  The allure of traveling where few people have ever gone – places where evidence of human activity is nearly invisible – is a powerful draw.  This allure makes Wilderness travel undeniably attractive to a certain breed of people who are capable of cutting the cord and tuning in to a more basic way of living.  Five such adventurous souls recently struck out into the vast Wilderness surrounding the South Fork of the Owyhee River for three days of pedal-powered reconnaissance.  This is the story of that journey.

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The Crew: (L to R) Bike Hermit, Ryan, Wendell, Sky, Bryan

The group convened at the BLM headquarters in Boise to finalize a route and load gear for the 3-hour drive to our drop-off point east of the Duck Valley Indian Reservation, just north of the Nevada border.  After the long drive riding three-abreast in the pickup, we were happy to stretch our legs and breathe the sage-perfumed air while we unloaded bikes.

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We set off to the west just after 11am, pedaling through Horse Basin toward the Wilderness Boundary.  The miles passed with relative ease on the well packed two-track under sunny skies and with scarcely a hint of wind.  We ground our way up a gradual climb to the plateau and turned to the south in order to survey a longer section of wilderness boundary.

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This section of doubletrack was among the smoothest any of our group had ridden in the entire region and a slight tailwind began to push us northward.  The sea of sage was interrupted by two water tanks and windmills; aging remnants of ranch infrastructure.  Each one sat in a grassy circle cleared of sage and featured abandoned eagle nests tucked into the ladder handles of the water tank.  A draft of cool air blew up from the dry well near one of the tanks.  A rock dropped down the tube never found water.

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As we turned to the west along the boundary line, we came to a rock outcropping and saw the land fall away ahead of us.  From here, we descended into Wilderness along the Coyote Hole Cherrystem to the bank of the South Fork where we would make our first camp.  The road dropped gradually at first but became steeper as we neared the canyon rim.

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A badger scuttled off the road as we approached, making off into the underbrush.  With sheer rock walls on both sides, we followed the loose, rutted track down its final plunge to river level, finding the ruins of a stone house, livestock pen and even some rusting farming implements.

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The prospect of scratching a living out of the side of this remote stream seemed pretty daunting, but compared with the barren plains above this was a paradise of plenty.  Springs bubbled out of the rocks above, delivering sweet water to wet our whistles.

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A brief exploration also revealed a river teeming with fish, which turned out to be Northern Pikeminnows.  This provided an ideal opportunity to test the borrowed Tenkara outfit the Bike Hermit packed along.  Thanks for the loan, Don!  This was the first time fishing with Tenkara for me and the Bike Hermit, so look forward to more about that experience in a future post.

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We awoke to temperatures barely above freezing and crawled from the warmth of our shelters to make our breakfast and coffee.  I noticed the tracks of what appeared to be a mountain lion just on the edge of our camp, along a path we had trod the evening before to access the river.  Did we have a visitor in the night?  I can’t say for sure, but it certainly appeared that the big cat had stalked through the bush less than 15 yards from where we slept.

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It seemed nobody was in a big hurry to tackle the climb back out of the river canyon.   The first pitches were definitely unrideable on our loaded bikes and even the more forgiving sections tested our legs and determination.  However, the exertions allowed us to quickly shake off the morning’s chill and we found ourselves back on the high plateau.  We made good time northbound along the boundary line, headed for the river ford near the 45 Ranch.

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Once atop a small rise, we were greeted with a stunning panorama of the massive gash in the earth containing the South Fork.  It was clear that the descent to the 45 Ranch was going to be a wild ride, so we strapped our gear down tight and dropped in.  The well-traveled road was delightfully smooth in some spots and terrifyingly rough in others.  The switchbacking grade led us down to the homestead of the 45 Ranch, a privately-owned ranch in partnership with the BLM and the Nature Conservancy.  We passed by the ranch on the way to the boat launch where we would ford the South Fork.             p1190854

We paused at the river ford to partake of some victuals and prepare ourselves for the uneven footing and swift water.  Group members crossed the river using varying tactics.  Some – like Wendell – carried their bikes above the knee deep water…

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Some – like Sky – pushed their bike along the bottom.  I wonder who does her maintenance…

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After crossing the river, we left ranch property and returned to the Wilderness along the Little Owyhee Cherrystem.  We started out on a flat, rocky double-track between steep rock walls.  However, when traveling through the Canyonlands, what comes down must always go up.

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Our mild and scenic road soon turned steep and nasty.  This climb out of the river canyon would be the most trying of the trip.  The combination of intense midday sun, steep grades, deep ruts, off-camber tread, loose dirt and rolling rocks made this climb mentally and physically challenging.  The left-hand track was reasonably smooth and appeared rideable but the loose soil and steep camber caused wheels to slip into the rut at the slightest shift of weight.  Most of us were forced to push our bikes nearly all the way up from the valley floor.

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The climb ground upward and topped out just uphill from a wide-open barbed wire gate.  One downside to riding in the Canyonlands is that climbs are rarely rewarded with descents as they would be in the mountains.  Instead, we were taunted by steep rollers and an increasing headwind as we headed south, keeping the Wilderness boundary on our left.

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This section is among the least-visited in the entire Owyhee Canyonlands Wilderness.  Our track showed little evidence of human travel within the past several months, if not longer.  Animal scat, burrows, anthills and sagebrush abounded.  Jackrabbits, coyotes and birds of prey appeared the be the only main road users.  We investigated the heads of the Walcot and South Fork Cherrystems, neither of which had seen traffic in quite some time.

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After 14 “desert miles” riding through the wide open ocean of dust and sage along the boundary line, we crossed through a gate.  Somewhere past the gate we crossed the unmarked state boundary and into Nevada.  South of the fence, evidence of heavy horse use was everywhere.  Hoofprint potholes and heaping piles of “road apples” littered the double track and made for rough going.  The stiff headwind made life even more difficult.  We were feeling the effects of the tough climbs and long miles as we sought shelter and water for our evening’s camp.  Shadows were already growing long in the road, obscuring rocks and holes in the right-hand track.  Evidence of the fragility of life in the desert was all around.

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After cresting a small rise, we sighted a group of the horses responsible for the hoofprints and manure piles.  They became aware of our presence and pricked their ears in our direction.  However, they weren’t about to let us get very close.

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They turned tail and headed east, raising a mighty cloud of dust as they went.

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We encountered another group as we picked up the Paiute Pipeline road.  They’re just visible on the horizon in the photo below.  Despite their skittishness, we were in their territory and this wouldn’t be the last we’d hear of the horses.   We pedaled on, feeling battered by the rough road, headwind and long miles.  We were quite ready to reach our riverside camp and put our bikes to bed.

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Yet again, we braved a steep, rocky and loose descent into the river plain.  From our high point on the plateau, we looked out across the valley to see the Pipeline road continue across the basin and climb straight up the opposite wall far in the distance.  Evidence of horse mortality presented an ominous sign as we focused on making camp and put the next morning’s challenges out of our minds.

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With a sigh of relief we reached the second river ford of our trip.  Again, group members took varying approaches.  Wendell opted to stay on the south bank and make his camp above river level.  The rest of the crew elected to make the river crossing now rather than brave the chilly water in the morning.  In our depleted and mentally deficient state, pitching our camp in the middle of the road didn’t sound like such a bad idea.  We prepared our respective meals and turned into our shelters under a clear, starry sky.  The crystalline starscape is one of the biggest rewards for traveling in this tough and forbidding landscape.  Situated in the middle of one of the largest unpopulated areas anywhere in the United States, light pollution is practically non-existent.  I lay in my bivy sack for quite some time, watching shooting stars and soaking in the view of the Milky Way as I dozed off.

On the morning of the third day, the discussion centered around the question, “did you hear those horses last night?!”  At least one of the bands had descended from the plain above to river level for their evening drink, coming nearly right through our camp.  The thunder of their hooves pounding down the rocky slope shook the ground and woke us from our slumber.  The horses retreated when Wendell poked his headlamp out of his tent but continued to snort and stomp along the canyon rim.  Despite our fascination with the equine residents, it was time for us to leave this place.  We were due at the rally point at 11am to meet Evan and head back to civilization.  That meant another grind up from river level, which started right off the bat.

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This short but brutally steep stretch of Pipeline Road was littered with loose, round rocks that rolled like billiard balls at the slightest touch.  Even on an unloaded fatbike, I’m not sure if it could be climbed.  We had a difficult enough time walking up the cruel grade but were pleased that it didn’t last long.  As we headed northeast toward Idaho, evidence of horses faded and the track grew smoother.  A few rollers in the basin even delivered enough of a speed boost to get us into our big chainrings, perhaps for the first time on this odyssey.

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The climb out of the basin loomed large in the distance and we prepared ourselves for the final grunt of the trip.  The grade grew steeper the farther up the pitch we climbed and we were all forced to push our bikes to the rim.  Wendell and I waited at the top, watching the rest of the group approach and eyeing the route we had taken yesterday and this morning across the wide-open bowl of grass.

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Now back in Idaho, we continued to follow the Pipeline Road until we came across a dilapidated ranch outpost, complete with a two-story cabin, outhouse, workshop and corrals.  Despite the run-down appearance, it was clear that the property still got some occasional use but was no longer suitable as living quarters.  The cabin’s frame and foundation were solid but the roof and windows were long gone and the interior had fallen into deep disrepair.  We struggled to imagine the difficulty of survival through the bitterly cold and windy winters out here on this exposed, isolated plain.

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Just as we completed our explorations of the cabin and prepared to continue toward our meetup point, we saw the government pickup rumbling down the road toward us.  Our Wilderness adventure was finished.  With mixed emotions, we loaded our bikes and piled back into the truck for the drive back to the modern world.

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Despite – or perhaps because of – the challenges and difficulty, trips to remote corners of our planet leave us with a better sense of our place in the world.  We are reminded of the fragility of life, especially our own.  We are forced to return to a more basic way of thinking that places priority on simple survival.  When we return to the relative luxury and security of our normal lives, we do well to retain the perspective gained from journeys such as this.  However, regular doses of wildness are essential to the maintenance of that perspective.  That’s why places like this deserve to be protected.  That’s also why we’ll keep going back.

 

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Categories
Bikepacking Idaho Idaho Hot Springs Mountain Bike Route Surly Bikes

A Great Little Idaho Hot Springs Route Ride

Beautiful S24O to Atlanta, Id.
Beautiful S24O to Atlanta, Id.

We are big on “just wander” styles of biking.  So far, the 2016 Idaho fall weather has been excellent for some nice weekend S24O rides.  The “start” of the Adventure Cycling Association’s Idaho Hot Springs MTB Route is right out our door, but finding the time to ride the entire route in one big trip isn’t feasible.  We’ve ridden sections of the trip – last year we accomplished 150 miles when it was 112 degrees in the shade so this year we opted to wait until after fire season and the summer heat and planned to ride two more sections.  We also opted to be flexible and let go of the purist idea of where one should start a ride.  Sometimes life gets in the way and while we did get one section ridden the other will now probably wait until spring.  In September, the stars & the full moon lined up and we ventured to Atlanta with some great biking friends.  While our entire ride isn’t described on the Hot Springs Map this is a great get away ride with some beautiful scenery. Another group decision was to not start in town and suffer the 12 to 14 miles of horrendous wash board on the Middle Fork Road.  Enough of us have biked that section to know once was enough.  Taking off after work on a Friday we drove to Willow Creek Campground,  knowing there was a full moon we were happy to see clear skies.  What we didn’t account for was the full moon attracting campers who had no intention of sleeping and having them set up camp right next door… A bit bleary eyed we took off for Atlanta Saturday am.  The road follows the river pretty much the entire 47 miles so, for the most part, it is a gradual climb.  The last few miles the road steepens but knowing the bar and cafe in Atlanta weren’t far off we all geared down and carried on.  The Bike Hermit wrote about his trip to Atlanta last year and did a great job of describing the bar.  Happy to say it hasn’t changed.  Good beer, a choice of cheeseburger or hamburger and life was good.  Not only that but they agreed to feed us breakfast the next morning, truly an easy decision for all of us.  The seven of us had the campground to ourselves and the hot springs to ourselves as well.  We all agreed this would make a great annual fall trip.

Things to know:

  • The road is dirt and gravel.  For the most part a bike with 38 mm tires will do fine – there are some sandy areas.  We had two Surly ECR’s, 2 Trolls and a Disc Trucker on our ride and all did awesome.
  • The washboard isn’t as bad if you start anywhere beyond Willow Creek Campground and it gets better once you leave Boise County.
  • The folks at Twin Springs are very friendly – one could also rent a cabin there and another cabin in Atlanta and be really spoiled (except the beer choice at Twin Springs is Coors or Bud so pack accordingly)
  • The Campground in Atlanta seems to be free after labor day
  • Hot Springs in Atlanta are nice.  We opted for the one by the river below the campground but the pool close to the campground is also great. We didn’t ride down and look, but there are more hot springs by the river as you pedal to the campground.
  • Fall vehicle traffic wasn’t bad and people were polite.
  • There are plenty of places to camp along the way.

Highly recommend! Photo Credits to Paul Lindquist and Ron Riley

Brisk start Sunday but it's all downhill from here!
Brisk start Sunday but it’s all downhill from here!
Middle Fork Road to Atlanta
The road follows the middle fork of the boise river
Twin Springs - Bar, Cafe & Cabins with private Hot Springs
Twin Springs – Bar, Cafe & Cabins with private Hot Springs
Tucked in for Beer and Burgers
Tucked in for Beer and Burgers
Early Fall colors the entire ride
Early Fall colors the entire ride