When it comes to mountain biking most of us are mere mortals. Our skills are so-so and probably A LOT better in our minds than in real life. We also feel the internal tension because we’re not all criss-crossing the globe on Instagram-worthy mountain bike expeditions (especially now). Or if we do they’re not as often as we’d like … or admit. So what do we do in the meantime?
Micro-adventures.
You see, there’s adventure all around us if we have eyes to see. Not only that, but there’s an enormous variety of these micro-adventures to be had with endless possibilities. The good news is they often cost little to no money, only take up a 1/2 or full day, and they will leave you with a lifetime of memories. What then is the biggest roadblock or obstacle? Us.
A couple years ago something snapped … or clicked in my mind. I would say at my core I have a wanderlust personality. Previously that carried us to live in fun places like the Sonoran Desert, British Columbia, coastal northern California, and now Portland. But it’s been nearly a decade since we’ve moved here and we have no intention to leave. Portland is home and a special place. It is the right mixture of a big enough city with access to wild places. However, my personality hasn’t changed.
For the last several years I assumed I had hit most of the places locally that I wanted to ride and explore. Or so I thought. Also, with such a busy schedule I don’t always have the time to take off for extended trips to more remote places around Oregon and the PNW. The remote desert in the southeastern part of the state beckons me like the siren of the sea. Like magma building up from deep below and pushing towards the surface I could feel this wanderlust pressure build. I felt like I was almost going to erupt like a volcano in the Cascade Mountains … I had to get out … explore … see new places. One Saturday I spontaneously grabbed my camera, picked a small town, and drove there. I didn’t have a plan. I parked, wandered around their little downtown, took photos, and explored on foot. I was elated. Ecstatic.
The next weekend I picked another small town. Then the next weekend after that I picked a lake I had not explored before. Previously all of my explorations revolved around places I could ride my mountain bike. But now? I was loading up with only my camera, a cup of coffee, and a deep sense of curiosity. What started off as an impulse to give into this wanderlust and curious personality has created almost a tradition now. Seemingly most weekends we’ll do this now. Explore. We stay away (for the most part) all of the touristy and well-trafficked areas. Sometimes the trips are spectacular and awe-inspiring. Other times they’re like vanilla ice cream. Solid and good. During some micro-adventures bikes are involved but most often we’re exploring on foot.
Last weekend was one such trip. We picked a spot … a couple of lakes on the southern flank of Mt Hood and set out to explore. We didn’t even take off until 4 PM in the afternoon. I took two of my sons (out of 3) and we set out of Portland with our cameras, a handful of Cliff Bars, and a general plan of what we wanted to do and see. By the time we rolled back into Portland we knew it was a micro-adventure of all micro-adventures. There were a lot of “woots” and “yeahs!”
We enjoyed our time at the mostly empty lakes, lazily walking along the shore, skipping rocks, and taking photos. Without planning it conversations at times turn somewhat serious … life, career aspirations, educational pursuits, and more. After leaving the second lake we decided to drive back through Government Camp and up to Timberline Lodge. The ski resort at Timberline had just opened back up after being shuttered due to COVID-19. We made the journey up to the lodge wondering what we’d even see. Would it be packed? After climbing 2,000 feet from town we pulled into the parking lot. Empty except for a few cars. That meant we had ample room to walk, talk, and take photos. Also, the timing couldn’t have been better.
The sun was slowly beginning to set. Every minute that went by changed the light and color of Mt Hood. The clouds would roll in obscuring most of the mountain and as quickly as they came they drifted away. As we watched this technicolor show before us there were a lot of “wows” uttered out loud. We couldn't even contain ourselves and our childlike excitement. The glaciated peak was alive with such color that any editing of the photos in Lightroom simply didn’t do it justice.
As quickly as our micro-adventure started we were on our way back home. A quick drive-through at Taco Bell in Sandy and we were speeding back toward the lights and sounds of Portland. All said and done we were gone not even five hours. It felt like days. Time moved at its own pace on our adventure. Looking back I wonder how did we see and experience so much in such little time? Yet already these images and memories are already burned deeply into the recesses of my mind and imagination.
I am grateful for these micro-adventures. For me personally I found a way … an outlet … a release valve of sorts, to satiate this hunger for adventure and exploration. Not only that but the memories we’re making as a family is priceless. I had no idea that so much fun and adventure could be packed into such a short span of time. Other than gas and at times a quick drive-through to grab a bite to eat the cost is negligible.
How about you? What could a micro-adventure look like for you?
Words and Photo by Sean Benesh
Founder of Loam Coffee