Photo by Keita, Takashi & Rie / Text by Keita Oodaira
I first learned about the activity known as bikepacking—a style of play that involves strapping essential camping gear to a bicycle fitted with wide, knobby tires, setting up camp, and riding wherever the trail takes you, from paved roads to singletracks—about seven years ago, when SimWorks introduced us to a manufacturer called Porcelain Rocket, which made custom-ordered frame and saddle bags for touring bikes based on their specific dimensions.
I’m sure there’s no real need for a strict definition of bikepacking, but I intuitively felt it was quite different from the style of classic touring bikes I was familiar with. Every time I saw posts on social media from the US—the forefront of ultralight (UL) culture—showing people humbly loading lightweight, high-performance gear like frame bags, seat bags, and handlebar bags onto mountain bikes to ride long, remote trails, I found myself deeply wanting to challenge myself to do the same.
Even though I had never experienced a camping ride longer than two nights and three days through touring events like the RIDEALIVE held annually by Circles, I worried about whether it was even realistic for me to go ride in unknown parts of America. Nevertheless, a few years ago, I had decided in my heart that I would definitely go on a bikepacking trip in America. Entering 2018, I hadn't decided where to go yet, and even after surfing the internet in search of a route to guide my journey, I couldn't immediately find a place that said, "This is it."
Then, one day—I believe it was around March—I received an email from Inocchi at WellDone, with whom I had made a pact that we would absolutely go on a trip together. He wrote, "Doesn't this place look insane?" That was the OREGON TIMBER TRAIL (hereafter referred to as the Oregon Timber Trail), which we ended up tackling.
Once we discovered the existence of this trail, which spans approximately 1,080 kilometers from New Pine Creek on the California border to Hood River on the Washington border, we scoured its official website and hashtag, and were immediately captivated by its appeal.
The site itself was very easy to navigate, with a detailed route traced on a map, and it provided the minimum necessary information on lifelines, such as trailheads, campsites, lodges, water sources, and convenience-store-like locations. We also found that Dylan, whom we happened to meet when Chris King visited Japan, was involved in this trail project. Our excitement hit its peak, and we thought, "This is the one!" Every day, we used Google Translate to research it. Hearing that July—the time we had planned—was the perfect season with the rainy season over, the trip felt suddenly real, and my excitement became unstoppable.
To top it off, the mountain bikes we were taking to the Oregon Timber Trail—a Cielo and a DeSalvo—were both made in the state of Oregon. There’s something romantic about taking tools that we’ve used with care in Japan for a long time and riding them in Oregon, so we named this tour the BACK TO OREGON TOUR.
Our team, formed by a breakfast shop owner from Nagoya, a bag maker, and a bag maker from the U.S. who joined us, started in the rural central Oregon town of Oakridge. This summer, we rode about 600 kilometers of the trail via bikepacking, and now I would like to write down the memories of that 11-day journey here.
About OREGON TIMBER TRAIL
The Oregon Timber Trail is broadly divided into four sections: "FREMONT," "WILLAMETTE," "DESCHUTES," and "HOOD." The website provides detailed information for each section, including distance, elevation gain, estimated time required, and difficulty level. Based on our schedule and physical fitness, we decided to make Oakridge, which is located in the latter half of the "WILLAMETTE" section, our starting point, and aimed to cover approximately 600 kilometers from there in two weeks.
To avoid any misunderstanding, I want to state clearly that our goal was not to go on a soul-searching journey or some kind of ascetic training. We wanted to feel the magnificent nature of Oregon firsthand, and instead of just being obsessed with rushing forward, we wanted to enjoy meals, have bonfires, drink beer, talk, cherish the connections with the people we met, surrender ourselves to the great outdoors, and always stay relaxed. Escaping from our usual fast-paced daily lives was a major purpose of this trip.
Ultimately, that way of enjoying it was the right choice, and the means of transportation to make it possible was, of course, the "bicycle."
My companions on the journey
One of the companions who joined this journey was Inocchi from WellDone, who works under the same roof at Circles. He has his studio on the third floor of Circles, and is a genuine garage maker from Owari-Nagoya who keeps creating many items like cycling caps and hiking packs. He is well-versed not only in bicycles but also in hiking culture, and is highly sought after for pop-up events all over the country.
And then there’s Kyle from the California-based bag maker OUTER SHELL. We knew each other through social media, but thanks to a sudden connection made by Rie-bo from SimWorks USA, he joined us on this trip. He is currently based in San Francisco but lives in Santa Rosa, a bit outside the city. He is, above all, a kind-hearted, nice guy.
Two days before the trip began, we rode the "Sandy Ridge Mountain Bike Trail" with the Chris King crew, and the day before, we rode the "Dead Mountain Trail" in Oakridge. Both were incredible trails where we could enjoy the best downhill riding we had ever experienced. It was also an important time for warming up for the journey, as well as for checking the condition of our bikes and the distribution of our packed gear. As expected, we found some issues, which allowed us to make some improvements before the trip officially started. I strongly recommend going on a pre-ride before a long-distance tour.
For the route map, we found a high-quality app called "RIDE with GPS" and used that.
After saying goodbye to Rie-bo from SimWorks USA in Oakridge, we started on the first day's difficult section—a dirt road with 1,200 meters of climbing over 20 kilometers, which we had a hunch would be the toughest part of the whole trip.
I should have known... I should have known, but it was super brutal...
The temperature kept rising, there was almost no shade on the path, and after climbing for about three hours, we had lunch on the side of the road when we got hungry. My map-reading skills were still shaky, so I didn't quite understand where we were, but I was hungrier than I was concerned about our location, so I ate first. While eating the instant fried rice I bought in the U.S.—which wasn't bad, but not exactly delicious—I looked over at Inocchi. He was eating a "Donbei" (instant udon) he had brought from Japan as trail food. I had a bite, and it was incredible. Donbei really is the best.
Then we started riding again. Long, steep slopes where we had no choice but to push our bikes continued, and when we finally found the trailhead, singletrack began. The excitement of finally getting onto singletrack made us push a little harder on the pedals. There were large fallen trees scattered throughout the trail, so we all lifted our bikes and passed them to each other one by one. On steep hills, we would get off and walk slowly, step by step. Sometimes we would make smooth progress, only to have to get off again; it was a cycle of that. But the magnificent scenery Oregon revealed from time to time was so beautiful it left me speechless.
When Kyle pointed to where we were going to cross the mountain at an elevation of about 1,800 meters, his finger was pointing into the far distance, and I felt a bit of despair.
The expectations we had for our journey based on pre-trip planning vanished within half a day. According to our naive assumptions before starting, we were supposed to take it easy and arrive at a campsite near a lake called Gold Lake, about 50 kilometers from the start. However, as of 4:00 p.m., we were still wandering around about 27 kilometers from the start.
The most important thing after life = "Water"
Since our water was running low, we aimed for a water refill point slightly off the route.
We left our bikes on the route because we had to descend a very steep slope, and followed orange arrows nailed to trees in the thick grass through a pathless path. Although we arrived at the water point on the GPS, we couldn't find anything anywhere we looked. We couldn't believe it, so we all walked around searching, but it really wasn't there. The water source had dried up.
It was such a shock that I laughed. To top it off, someone had written THE END OF THE WORLD on a large rock right nearby. It was dramatic—almost too well-scripted.
Since it's dangerous once it gets dark, we quickly shifted our focus and aimed for a small lake 10 kilometers ahead on the map.
After this incident, the amount of talk among everyone decreased significantly, and as our concentration started to slip, we made sure to call out and encourage each other as much as possible.
In my heart, I kept thinking, "Oregon Timber Trail... I seriously underestimated you..."
The surroundings were completely dark.
It was a mild case of bonking (hitting the wall).
I will never forget Inocchi, who had finished all his water, screaming in a frenzy, "I have no water! Please give me some!"
After 10:00 p.m., we finally found the lake and decided to sleep there. We toasted with the lukewarm beer we each brought and finished our meal. I couldn't even tell if the beer was good anymore, but somehow, we praised each other for being able to survive the day. Once I pitched my tent and lay down, I felt like I would fall asleep instantly, but I was a little nervous and frightened by the occasional footsteps I heard from a direction other than where the other two were. But I was so tired that day that I fell asleep before I knew it. When I woke up in the morning, a deer was wandering around the tent.
It was quite cold in the morning, so I used the warm clothing I had brought. Since we had arrived at night, I hadn't realized it, but the lake was much larger and more beautiful than I had imagined. And the fact that there were so many mosquitoes would also be something that bothered us throughout this tour.
Our journey, which started out full of hope on the first day, was very tough, and the goal of Hood River, 600 kilometers away, felt very, very far.
In reality, this first day was the hardest of the entire trip, yet the scenery was so magnificent and beautiful that it left a lasting impression.
There is no doubt that this was exactly the sense of fulfillment I had been seeking in a journey.
BACK TO OREGON TOUR #02
https://circles-jp.com/feature/back-to-oregon-tour-02/