From Ride as a Purpose to Ride as a Means.
Enjoying a ride as an end in itself.
What kind of bike do you ride, what kind of roads do you take, and where do you head out to ride? The beauty of cycling is that there are so many ways to enjoy it. And, beyond just making the ride your purpose, by connecting that ride to another activity waiting at the destination, the ride transforms from a purpose into a means. That is not only a wonderful way to enjoy cycling, but it’s also the reason we started Ride Alive, and that sentiment is always present alongside our everyday rides.
It might not look like it, but when I was a kid, I used to go fishing every weekend. I remember being in middle school and pedaling like a demon to the next town over with my friends, our fishing rods expertly strapped to our bike racks.
For us as boys, pedaling to the next town or an unfamiliar place felt like a grand adventure, and the way our hearts raced at the sight of new scenery is exactly the same then as it is now.
Just like heading to that next town, the desire to freely stretch our legs to places we’ve never been is the reason we ride bikes.
That hasn’t changed even since coming to America. One of the things I wanted to accomplish on this trip was to go fishing locally.
Of course, since it was such a great opportunity, I wanted to enjoy fishing using the bike as a means, just like I always do in Japan.
And that plan came to fruition quite early on.
We headed for the Deschutes River, which flows through a small town called Maupin in Central Oregon. It’s a famous fly fishing destination, known for its good-sized steelhead (rainbow trout).
We woke up early, loaded our bikes and gear into the car, and headed straight there. It took about two hours from Portland, keeping our foot on the gas along the main road running beside Mt. Hood, passing through the forest to the other side of the mountains, and arriving in the town of Maupin. While it’s a compact town focused mainly on tourism like fishing and river rafting, there was a fly shop open early in the morning, so we stopped by to gather some information.
There are many kinds of flies (artificial lures), and it’s important to observe what insects the fish are eating based on the location, time, and current conditions to choose the right one. The shop was packed with every conceivable type of fly. Even as I looked at them, all I could think about was the moment a fish would take the bait. I’ll keep it between us that just looking around the shop was fun enough.
To fish in Oregon, you need to pay for what’s called a license. You can buy it online, but the process seemed a bit complicated for non-residents, so I bought one at a home improvement store. You can also buy them at fishing tackle shops, outdoor stores, and even local grocery stores, so there’s no need to worry.
We parked the car in a parking lot by the riverbank, switched to our bikes, and headed for our spot. The biggest advantage of a bike is definitely the ability to access places cars can't reach and to easily move between small spots. We rode along the gravel road that followed the river, keeping an eye on the water's surface to find a promising area.
In America, where train lengths are absurdly long, seeing a train with only three cars is a very rare thing.
Before long, we arrived at the spot we had picked out, parked our bikes, and took our tackle out of our bags. I was brazen enough to have all my gear loaned to me this time—thanks to Eric from Chris King for being so generous!
Eric wore waders and waded into the water to approach points where fish were more likely to be. I wasn't prepared for that much, so I just used a combination of my RAL / Fastpass Active Shorts and BedRock Sandals, wading into the water to fish in the shallower areas.
It was a scorching day with temperatures around 36-37 degrees Celsius (97-99°F), but the water was icy cold—almost painful to stay in for too long.
I also tried a style of fishing that fuses Tenkara—a traditional Japanese method—with fly fishing. The point is to flow the fly naturally in sync with the river's current, which requires practice. By the way, Tenkara and fly fishing rods can collapse down to about 40-50cm, making them easy to pack into backpacks, saddlebags, or panniers, which makes this style of fishing very compatible with bike travel.
The guy who brought me along this time is Eric Fincher. He works in marketing at Chris King. He’s the same age as me, and I consider him my "my man." He’s finishing up a base racer he’s building, and he plans to swap parts from this bike over to it. He’s carrying his tackle, waders, food, and more using a front rack and panniers.
In any case, the approach to the fishing spot itself involved riding on wild, gravel terrain that felt very "American"—not the kind of road I usually get to ride—so that alone was more than enough fun. The magnificence of the natural environment, combined with the way you can forget your daily life the moment you hold a fishing rod and face off with the fish and nature, makes this the ultimate way to play for anyone who wants to enjoy both riding and fishing.
The only thing left would be for the catch to follow... but yeah, unfortunately, it was a no-fish day.
To be continued in the next post, "Finally, that long-awaited catch!" (maybe).
TODAY’S RIDER
| Bike | Cielo | Cross Racer Disc |
| Tire | WTB | Nano 700x40c |
| HandleBag | RAL | FRONT LOADER |
| SaddleBag | RAL | UT LOADER |
| Tops | Houdini | M’s Waft Short Sleeve |
| Bottoms | RAL By Deeper’s Wear | FASTPASS Active Shorts |
| Sunglass | RAL | activité |
| Sandals | Bedrock Sandals | Cairn Sandals |
| Backpack | Truce | Drop Liner Medium |
| Rod | TENKARA ROD&CO | THE SAWTOOTH |
TEXT & PHOTO by Shige