Tour de Parks

Yes, it's October, but it's a beautiful sunny day, and this puts me in a mind to thinking back about some of the things we did this summer that I haven't yet posted about. So let's go back in time to July and a dazzling Saturday afternoon! This day was Cousin *P's birthday, so after helping her celebrate at a pizza 'n play place, we went to Downtown Hillsboro for a fun family event: the Tour de Parks! This is the fourth year that they've held this kid-friendly bike ride, where families can choose from three different lengths of courses that take you all around Hillsboro and through the city parks. We ended up on the medium-length route and saw six different parks while we rode through town.First order of business, we got Alton settled in his child seat on the back of my longtail bike with a water bottle and snack--I have made small "leashes" to tether his water bottle and snack cups to the straps of his seat for trips when he'll need them. In the picture below, you can see him holding his water bottle while the snack cup (with spillproof lid!) is the small white circle dandling just above my left heel. The stretchy leashes are just long enough to give him freedom of movement with munching or sipping, but not so long that they actually get in the way of my pedaling. He likes to drop whichever item he's currently not using to the side, then tells me that he's "going fishing" when he reels his eatware back up.

Andy held our small digital camera to take pictures on the ride. Here you see us riding in line with some good friends, the Zawalski family. The orange child seat is mounted onto my friend Fabi's bike--she has an extended frame bike, like mine, also equipped with bags so that she can haul gear, groceries, and more! Unlike my bike, however...she carries two kids on hers! One child seat mounted behind her for her daughter Alton's age, and one smaller seat balancing the weight by being mounted to her frame in front of her seat for her younger son. I ride ahead of her with Alton in his blue seat, and Fabi's husband Gabe takes the lead in front of me in his orange t-shirt. We were quite a parade!

Here you can see the two "big" bikes riding in a line!

Through Walnut Street Park.

Turning off of Baseline Road, one of my favorite major streets to ride in Hillsboro because it has a dedicated bike line and runs East-West through the whole city. It can get me many places!

At the end of the ride, the City of Hillsboro was hosting an awareness event on Main Street about environmentally-friendly choices. Information was dispersed about green power choices, saving water, etc. There were also food vendors and free popcorn for kids. Alton was happy to sample!

After some relaxation in the shade beneath the trees to eat our snacks, it was time to load the kids onto the bikes again and head home. Below, Alton and I pose with our Xtracycle "Radish" next to Fabi's Surly "Big Dummy" (no, I don't know where the brand came up with that name, although it's a honkin' big bike frame) with her two kids. Matching bike baskets and all! A fun day to ride with friends, and we're so glad that we have buddies to share our hobby with.

Birthday Bike Tour to McMinnville

At the beginning of this month, Andy and I took a small bike tour sans child. It actually started as simply a "getaway" weekend, generously made possible by Andy's mom, Jennifer (Grammy to Alton). Asking us what we'd like for birthday gifts (both of our birthdays are in September), we queried whether we could exploit her newly-retired status and have her babysit Alton at our house for a few days. Since we were no longer working around her teaching schedule, she very kindly made herself available to us and we were able to find the most inexpensive flights with no school days to accommodate. Score! A very, very big thank-you to Jennifer Rhyne for making this whole birthday trip possible; Alton had so much fun!
Once we knew that our few days alone together had been carved out on the calendar, we started researching where we'd like to go. The one and only other time that we were both away from Alton for a whole night when my Mom and sister stayed with him, we'd ventured into downtown Portland for wining and dining, but we decided that with two days at our disposal we wanted to go someplace new. We looked at the Columbia Gorge, the mountains down in Bend, the coast...but I was researching the fun and historic McMenamin's Hotels when I found our perfect spot. The "Hotel Oregon" is located in downtown McMinnville about 40 miles south of us, and saving our trip to the Evergreen Air and Space Museum, we'd never even ventured down to this city to spend any time.
A couple of times, as we were suggesting possible destinations for the trip, we'd tentatively suggested the idea of making it a bike tour, but there were so many variables to consider before lodging that decision in the affirmative. How far was our potential destination? What would the weather be like? Would there be anything to do nearby, or would we have to mount up and ride miles and miles just to get to a restaurant? All of these are surmountable obstacles, certainly, but this trip was meant to be romantic and relaxing, not a motocross challenge. Aha, our Hotel Oregon! A quick search online found it to be about 35-40 miles away, with a previous bike-friendly farm road route posted by another bicycle tourist. The weather seemed wet but mild as far out as we could predict it. And the hotel's corner roost in the middle of historic downtown McMinnville proved to be easy walking distance to myriad shops, restaurants, and diversions. Sold!
Since we didn't have to worry about packing any camping or cooking equipment, Andy offered to haul the weight of our bike trailer carrying just our clothes bags and other road essentials (bike tools, patch kits, etc.) and keep the majority of the weight off our bike frames. We outfitted my rear rack (usually occupied by Alton's seat!) with a small trunk bag for maps and essentials, then threw our snacks into my new bike basket, a birthday gift from my parents. For this trip, both Andy and I opted to take our hybrid bikes, the ones with the lightweight frames and larger wheel diameters for extra nimbleness on our short tour. Mine had been recently outfitted by the aforementioned new basket and other birthday gifts, including fenders from my in-laws. This baby is as comfy as she's going to get!
We left home on a Sunday morning (we initially planned our away dates in hopes of taking advantage of slower weekday hotel rates), ready to hit the road by 9a.m. I was poking through our pantry and refrigerator, searching for portable-but-filling snacks to take with us, and Alton was clamoring to Andy to read him a book. Andy had the trailer packed and was pumped and ready to go, so he giddily checked his watch and asked me, "I'll just read him this book quickly, and then you wanna go?" Um, what about breakfast?! I was not about to begin our journey with no food in my stomach. Andy is always worried about too much food settling like a lead weight into his midsection, but I knew that the country roads we'd be traveling would offer little or nothing in the way of sustenance. After some quick bowls of cereal, we were ready to shove off.

We headed off to the farm byways south of our house, double-checking our turn-by-turn directions against the signposts. Happily, on an overcast fall Sunday morning there was hardly any car traffic, so we rode easily within earshot of one another to chat about our plans and surroundings. Early on, we hit a couple of short-but-steep hills beside horse pens and farmhouses that left us sore in the legs and panting, then swept quickly down one long, curvy grade that felt extremely ominous when we contemplated its position in the last quarter of our mileage on the way home. Aiming our bikes down, we passed swampy inland grasses, sloughs, trees, one or two small produce stands (if they'd been selling anything but gourds and tomatoes, I might've stopped!) and finally took our first real stretch break beside a tangle of wild blackberry bushes. With half of my morning coffee still warm in my insulated Klean Kanteen bottle, I carefully navigated my bare calves past thorny vines and stretched my hands out to pick the last of the season's juicy blackberries. Some were good...and some were tart!

As the hands of my watch neared 11a.m. and we wound our way down on the country roads, I kept my eyes open for signs that read..."Open!" McMinnville is part of the Willamette (remember: Wil-lamette, it rhymes with "dammit") Valley wine country, and we'd be wending our way past some wineries to reach our destination, too. Since it was already October, it might be that these tasting rooms were already closed for the season (not all of them stay open for public tasting through the winter months), but on a Sunday morning there was a good chance that the weekends-only places would be ready for customers. So I kept my peepers peeled for evidence that the wineries we were passing had not shut down already. I told Andy, "We're here to have a good time, not make good time, right? How about the next winery we pass...we stop there?"
Well, as with all simple, easy plans...you can imagine this went straight down the drain. The next winery was a beautiful sage-green shingle posted right on the edge of the country highway to mark a gravelly driveway, with gold letters pointing the way to "Penner-Ash." We turned our bicycles in, shuddered and juddered across the gravel until the rocks gave way to another paved section, then cycled right past the huge barnlike structure on the side of the road that I'd taken to be the winery (it was actually a private residence). Here, the road turned up...and up...and up. Straight up. We had to walk our bikes, it was so steep. We're walking the bikes, peering hopefully around every curve in the road, expecting to see the warm lights of this elusive tasting room...but nada. A couple of cars passed us going down the road, but they were going just fast enough to make it awkward to try to flag them down and ask, "How much farther?!" (In retrospect, we should have realized that their speed was due to relief at zipping downhill on the way back to civilization; i.e., this place is in the freakin' Boondocks.) We persevered for far too long, then gave our pathetic climb up for lost and coasted back downhill to the main road to continue our journey. Clearly, what we'd taken for a driveway was a mere mile marker, and a glance at a map of local wineries confirmed that, even on the "not to scale" drawing, this Penner-Ash place was shown quite far off the beaten path. Darn.
Undeterred, we pressed on and before too long found another contender, a winery whose elegant, subtle "Open" sign was at odds with the kitschy, merlot-hued flag snapping merrily in the breeze and punnily urging passers-by to "Wine a Bit." We could see the building, the real one, from the road, so we turned up yet another gravel drive and parked our bikes on the vacant deck outside.

At Laurel Ridge, we availed ourselves of restrooms and water bottle refills before sampling some wines and purchasing a souvenir bottle to haul home (thanks, Andy!). With our Penner-Ash detour of futility and our lingering with sore tooshes standing up at the tasting room bar, it was time for us to scurry down the road to get to civilization for a real lunch (at this point, we had not passed any towns' commercial areas). We crammed some crackers into our mouths, the last of our road snacks, and pedaled on.
Up, down. Up, down. We cycled up and down hills, envisioning the turns of our route and where the cities would lie. I could feel myself getting cross and crabby with hunger (taking care to warn Andy of my cranky mood!), and finally we rolled into Lafayette, a teeny hamlet just a hiccup away from McMinnville. We passed a small Mexican grocery/carniceria and immediately turned into the parking lot, a few fat raindrops splashing around us. Luckily the rain kept to a drizzle while we hastily ordered a little food (quesadilla for Andy and tacos for me) and wolfed it down, unsure that we'd find any other open restaurants (or restaurants, for that matter) on this little main drag on a Sunday. Temporarily fueled, we hightailed it the final 10 miles into McMinnville.

Before the trip, I'd done a little restaurant research for the McMinnville area, and was dying to go to a French bistro that my friend Elizabeth had told me about. A quick check on their hours had revealed that they were NOT open on Mondays, the fuller day of our trip, so if we wanted to patronize this establishment it would have to be on Sunday, our arrival day, or not at all. But they were only open for dinner from 4-7pm--would we make it???
After getting to the hotel, checking in, availing ourselves of the hot showers and securing our bikes, we had plenty of time to stroll down the street (The restaurant was located just a few blocks away in the historic downtown! Great, because even with Advil I couldn't have mounted that saddle again....) and still be the first people to arrive at Bistro Maison for dinner.

Despite the splashy rain accompanying us on our walk, we got to the restaurant perky and hungry. We seized our menus and over-ordered wildly, selecting a fondue appetizer, charcuterie plate, salads, wine, pasta, cassoulet.... At one point between courses, we sat and sipped ice water as the hostess passed our table, then leaned in and assured us that she was "pacing our meal, because [we've] ordered quite a lot of food!" I was abashed enough to assure her, "We rode our bikes 38 miles to get here; don't worry, we're hungry!" And hey, we still looked great!

However, we were stuffed to the point that we had to pass up dessert, reminding one another that there was an old-fashioned ice cream parlor just across the street from our hotel for later treats. No need! Andy crashed out on the bed with all the lights on by about 6:30pm, and although I tried valiantly to stay awake later so that I would not be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at three in the morning, I was also asleep a little after 8p.m. Riding and eating take it out of you!
The next morning, we hit the internet to see what businesses were open, since we were finding that McMinnville was a small enough town for places to be closed on Sundays, Mondays, or Tuesdays. I have mentioned that the hotel's location in the historic downtown was very convenient for walking tours, and I'd definitely recommend this place to anyone looking for an inexpensive, short-term stayover. Although the hotel offers a few rooms with private baths, the "vintage" status means that many more of the rooms have a shared bathroom down the hall, with private toilet and shower cubicles in separate men's and women's facilities. While this was a little less than luxurious, the hotel provided two pristine white robes to each room for modest passage to the facilities, and we were staying for such a short time that we knew we'd spend most of our time sightseeing and little time in the room lamenting our lack of a bathroom. With a Sunday/Monday stayover, we had nearly the whole floor to ourselves, anyway.
Plus, they let us keep our bikes in the room! No worries about overly securing and rainproofing our rides out on the street or in some out of the way storage facility. We were able to wheel them into the tiny elevator, park them next to the heater, and leave them in place until our departure to give our tender bums a rest. Andy borrowed a "fisheye" lens from his coworker, which enabled him to shoot a picture of our entire spartan room at once.

Above the wicker basket of my bike, you'll notice a blurry portrait painted on the wall. All of the rooms were both numbered and named after people, whose stories were inscribed on the wall in paint as well; ours was the namesake of a former midcentury hotel chambermaid called "Rosie." She and her portrait creepily kept an eye on us while we were in the room.


Our rough plan for the day in place, we set out on Monday morning, first to the bakery next door for coffee and breakfast rolls, then down the street to find the adorable local toy store to find a present for Alton. The most major streetcorners have these hand-painted hands to guide nonlocals on their way in the direction of things like "Public Library," "Fire Dept," "Evergreen Air Museum," etc.

Presents in hand, we dropped them off in the room and consulted our maps once more to decide where to go for lunch, settling on a local microbrewery called "Golden Valley Brewing." With a hot lunch in our stomachs, we covered our heads and set out in a downpour to a tasting room a couple blocks away for vino sampling and respite from the rain. Andy snapped photos of the wine barrels with the winemaker's adorable dog on his heels, then we selected another souvenir bottle to take home.

Back on the downtown main drag, we availed ourselves of that old-fashioned ice cream parlor before making our way eventually to the hotel's historic rooftop bar. After our day of walking to and fro, I elected to bring a book for our afternoon relaxation, while Andy stalked the outdoor deck between raindrops to try to take panoramic photographs of our McMinnville views.


We were finally hungry again for dinner despite stuffing ourselves all day, so we walked just across the street to 3rd Street Pizza, where second-run movies are shown on a single screen in front of movie seats equipped with low counters in front of them--you can order and eat your pizza while you watch! We saw the comedy "Horrible Bosses" while we dug in to our pie, a definite treat to add to our weekend away since we rarely go to the movies.
Similar to our camping bike tour, after the first night's rest I felt exhausted, sore, and so stiff I was sure that I would not be able to move most of the day. After popping some Advil, doing some easy walking, and going to bed early on Day 2, I felt better, but still grumpily wondered how I would fare after our second night's stay, when it would be time to ride home. What if I just couldn't do it? What if I got on the bike, and my butt was so sore that I cried and had to call someone to come drive me home?
Worried as I was, the ride home was great! We were better fed, prepared with plenty of snacks, and the thought of returning home to our little dude was galvanization to keep the ride momentum going rather than dawdle at little roadside stops or wineries (not that any of them were open on a Tuesday morning). We made much better time, the Advil kept my soreness at bay, and since we were prepared for the hills and dips of the route, I think we paced ourselves much better. We opted to return home through a slightly different end to the route to avoid that long incline that would've shattered us in the final 10 miles of the trip, so instead we rode through the towns of Forest Grove and Cornelius, which had the added benefit of giving us a place to stop for a much-needed bathroom break. It seems that for my level of experience and the distances and types of routes we've been taking, the M.O. of arriving, having a day in the middle to kick back with NO biking, then returning home is okay!
We were welcomed by a huge downpour as soon as we hit Hillsboro city limits, but we were too pumped up to care. We made it! What a fun trip, and one we'd definitely make again.