Day 12: Thursday, May 30, 2013
Dayville to Prairie City: 47 miles
It was a short day today. But it felt longer than yesterday. Yesterday was fun, both because of the downhills and because of the scenic wonders. Today's journey led us (the British cyclists and me) up the John Day River valley, on rolling uphills over a nicely paved highway with generally wide shoulders. It should have been a piece of cake.
But I stayed up until 2:30 last night, trying to catch up on my blogging, and 7:00 am came awfully early. After doing my laundry and some more blogging, and tidying up the hostel, it was after noon.
Big Al in Powell Butte might say he serves the best burgers in Central Oregon; but, for the money, I'll take those served at the Dayville Cafe. The buns were soft and tasty, and the fixin's were just right. After finishing a burger and salad and a bottomless Pepsi, I was stuffed. Maybe that's why I didn't feel much like riding.
|Stop here. Eat. Burgers good.|
The first 30 miles were fine. Compared to yesterday, the scenery was kinda monotonous - more of the same, but lower hills with not so many rock outcroppings, and cows and forage crops. The sparse traffic we'd had since Prineville became denser - maybe a car every couple of minutes now - and it wasn't as easy to ride along without worrying about traffic.
As I was passing through John Day, a biker flagged me down. I think she had me confused with someone else. Or maybe she was just offering her services. She lived there, and was a warmshowers person, and ran an inn for cyclists, so maybe she was just trying to drum up business. A group of cyclists had gathered, in preparation for a pleasure ride; and a loaded cyclist from Missoula, headed for points west, was also there. We chatted for a while, then one of the cyclists headed home to Prairie City. Apparently he commutes the 26-mile round trip between Prairie City and John Day on a daily basis. I couldn't keep pace with him - all the usual excuses apply. Besides, I was really dragging after 30 miles of even a gentle uphill.
|Name these flowers|
The Brits and I are camped at the Sumpter Valley Railroad depot - the same spot Jack and I camped at back in 1981. The last train out of Prairie City ran in 1937, so I don't think I'll be able to get a ticket to Baker City. I should have roughed it and cooked an evening meal over the campstove, but I wimped out. We all went downtown to a bar that served good food. I had rosemary garlic shrimp with fettucini, and it looks like I'll also have that for breakfast.
|The Prairie City depot|