Biking to Sherrard Point (Larch Mountian's Summit)

To briefly explain the power assist setup. First, it's legal. I've totally custom-built a combined gasoline and electric power-plant which gets a either a proven ~250 miles per gallon, or ~30 miles after charging its 24V/20Ah LifePO4 battery pack. The assists are primarily intended to aid with hill climbing; quiet electric in the city & noisy/long-distance beyond city limits. The whole setup is geared to barely reach 20MPH (only by risking damage and redlining/overrunning the motors). Both engine and motor are small enough, that their power alone are simply insufficient for moving a human uphill; you add that last bit by pedaling 100% of the time - and that's exactly how I want it (if I wanted a motorcycle, or moped, I'd buy...or make...one).

The ride through SE Portland was typical. A few honking cars, and only one diesel pickup which amusingly tried to flood his engine and smoke/smog me out (the moron failed). From inner-SE, I primarily pedaled down Division until 181st, turned north and continued my trek along Stark. The descents behind MHCC and to the Stark Street bridge were a great taste of what was to come. Passing a frantically-pedaling upright (no motors), even sweetened the bridge-bound descents.

Then came the climbs. Up along Bell Rd, through Corbett, and pedaled past the Women's Forum. At a fork in the road, I considered detouring to Crown Point, but instead turned right, reached under my seat, yanked the gas motor's starter once...and smiled as I felt my incredibly reliable engine grunt and growl to life. With only ~14 miles to go, I was happy to have not yet seen Marilyn...whom started near Troutdale exactly two hours before I left inner SE Portland.

The climb up was beautiful. Horses quietly feeding, a cooling breeze, and never winded enough to stop and rest. The pine smells were sharp, and the sweet scent of ripening berries teased me slower and closer to the road's edges. The motor faithfully hummed below my seat. On the steep hills, it grunted a little, but kept pushing along, with slowest speed barely touching 8MPH...the average climbing speeds felt like 10MPH. I was rarely able to touch 15MPH before the belt would slip (more about that later). As pleasant as it can be to share the road with massive steel beasts, I certainly prefer climbing at a much quicker pace; you're on those blind corners for far less time, and I've yet to have a close call since implementing the power-assist. Still no sign of the other cyclist I was looking forward to climbing with.

The yellow-jackets liked my bright green shirt and red TailSok, and they apparently could keep up as I swatted them away. A few silly horseflys attempted suicide runs at my helmet and sunglasses...they were not successful in slowing my climb.

Then passed a Forest Service pickup. He picked a spot and parked up the road. I slowly hummed past his open window. Looking inside I could see a young man, with a perplexed and frustrated look on his face, totally fixated on me and the bike. His engine sputtered to life, and he passed me again, only to park just around the bend. I enjoyed the scent of ripening berries as I briskly zipped by on this flat section of road. A few minutes later, he passed again, turned around barely 1,000 feet ahead, and then simply stopped in the oncoming lane. As I approached, I smiled through his intense stare, and slowly waved, his remarkably clean white pickup disappeared in my tiny helmet-mounted mirror.

As I approached the 14 mile marker, I smiled...knowing the summit was just around the bend. Although now a bit worried that I had still not yet seen Marilyn.

I pedaled into the parking lot...sad to not see Marilyn anywhere. Until I looked towards the hiking area and caught a glimmer of her titanium Bacchetta. She'd arrived just moments prior, and was walking to the summit when the grunts of a small motor tickled her ears. We waved, smiled, and both rolled our eyes...what had we done to ourselves. She'd climbed the entire 4000+ rise under her own power, something she's done nearly a dozen times in her lifetime. This was my first successful climb). While my assist's engine helped nudge me upwards at a faster pace, it was far from an easy ride...I stepped off the bike, and upon my 1st step, I nearly collapsed to the ground. Oy, these legs must have thought they were still attached to pedals, as one pulled while the other pushed. I shared the stash of cookies as we chatted and slowly slogged towards a shaded walkway.

Climbing the stairs to the summit was...far more difficult than it had ever been when driving up. The short steep climb was peppered with breaks, skyward glares, and simply taking in the views...it was worth it; a beautiful view only somewhat obscured by smoke allowed us to spot three of four major mountain peaks. We grabbed a few pictures, for proof of our trip

Slowly we slumbered down, stopping to chat with newly-arrived familiar faces while grabbing our bikes and preparing for our descent. Returning to the parking lot, we hunted for fresh water...the only two options had dried up. The bikes were then turned homeward. Marilyn warned of the 1st turn; a compound-curve, that sharply descends as it twists at 180 degrees...go slow she advised. I joked about gravel, and heeded her advice. She disappeared down the hill, as I quickly disconnected my power-assist's belt (so that I could more effectively freewheel down) and snapped one final picture.

The descent was fast; topping-out at 44.4MPH, while attempting to spot and avoid the invisible potholes, which were sparsely peppered under shadows, and mocked our attempts to avoid being bucked off our bikes. With the road curves, the descent was mildly tactical....something made me look to one side. Upon refocusing back on the road, a massive one-eyed cougar towered in the sky above. My glasses were glazed-over...I could barely see the path ahead, so I quickly looked for the white line. As the road unexpectedly curved, the line rapidly approached my wheels. I cursed, braked hard, and figured why not glance at my speed as I slid into a very shallow gutter alongside the road. At last glance, I was going exactly 30MPH...oh this is gonna really hurt...

The bike slid out from under me, I un-clipped knowing there was no recovering from this one. That was a mistake I will not repeat; my left leg was presumably sucked under, as the bike and I slid to a stop. I have no idea how I managed to land stomach-down, except for what Marilyn later described as "leg suck". I belly-flopped onto the road, with my hands out, my chest slammed down - although I never hit my head (whew!). I got up, and swore...I swore a lot...with huge cougars, blood, bent machines, and swearing adults, this was not a kid-safe place folks.

Remember that cougar, it fled behind the tree-tops, but not before leaving a five-claw scratch near the inside ankle of my right leg. Oh no, the scratch couldn't have been from my bike's only chainring...nope...it was a cougar (well, I think the cougar version sounds better) The top of my right arm had a small abrasion, about the size of a silver dollar. The inside of my left knee won two silver dollars. The outside of my left leg earned a scratch one could only cover by folding a dollar bill in half, length-wise. I stood there for a second, studying the cuts, happy to see that they were, while painful, shallow. No gravel was won today, just bright red stuff oozed from screaming raw surface abrasions.

The front wheel no longer aligned with the handle-bars, so I cursed and swore even more. Straightened things, and hopped back onto the bike to test critical functions. Brakes, yep. Straight and fully-attached wheels, yep. Swearing cyclist, yep. With a chuckle, and swift lunge forward, the hills urgently pulled me towards food & friends at a quickening pace. Peaking at nearly 40MPH for the remainder of the descent, the blood quickly dried into firm patches.

After briefly stopping in Corbett for gas (yep, I needed a whole $0.40 worth), I quickly resumed my descent. Eager for what turned out to be great conversations over a tasty cheeseburger, too-sweet lemonade, and needed carb-rich tater tots.

From Home/Summit/Home, the trip was 74 miles, and I'm so happy I made the effort. I'll be doing this trip again.