Monday, during a slightly protracted lunch break, The Bulletin sports reporter Mark Morical and I drove to the parking area for Phil’s Trail, just west of Bend off of Skyliners Road. I’d seen the “noonr” stickers on vehicles around town, but I’d never actually experienced one myself.

Morical was on his $1,100 mountain bike with all its fancy suspension, sleek lines and functioning parts. I was on the clunky mountain bike I bought off a former coworker for around $20 or $30 five years ago. With its playful habit of slipping into different gears, it keeps me on my toes.

Another thing I’d never done in some eight-and-a-half years of living in Bend is actually ride a bike on Phil’s Trail. Shameful, but there it is. It’s a load off my mind just admitting my problem. Phil’s Trail has always seemed to me like its own sort of Oregon Trail, in that you occasionally meet people who list it among their reasons for moving here. I also hadn’t ridden any of the other trails in the network: Kent’s Trail, Marvin’s Garden or any of those guys.

However, I have casually ridden the Deschutes River Trail several times over the years. It, like Phil’s, is in prime condition this time of year, the trail solid but not yet dusty as it will be come summer. Monday started off fair and clear, but before noon, clouds began congregating. Morical told me about his 12-mile ride on Phil’s Trail Saturday, a warm and sunny day during which he’d shared the trail with the crowds of people also taking advantage of the famous trail system and cooperative weather.

It being a Monday, I incorrectly assumed we’d have the trails more or less to ourselves, especially because we had planned a short, two-mile ride to the miniaturized version of Phoenix Rising, perhaps better known in some circles (get it, “circles”?) as “the flaming chicken” roundabout at Galveston and 14th Street in Bend. Two miles in and two miles back? That sounded just about perfect for a lunchtime jaunt.

When we pulled up, the dozen or more vehicles in the parking lot when we arrived suggested we would not be alone for long out there. Lunchtime is the right time for a ride, as it turns out.

Crowds on single-track can be challenging. On its Web site, Central Oregon Trail Alliance (www.co tamtb.com) lists one thing under the “Hazards” header: “other users.” It also says that, “This is a high-use area. Be aware, Ride with care. Respect gets respect.”

Morical gave me a tutorial in mountain bike etiquette: If you’re going downhill, stop and move out of the way for those riding uphill.

Once we mounted our bikes and put on helmets, we hurried down the trail, zipping past pines and angling around rocks. Some of the trees are close enough to the trail that they seem to all but dare your handlebars to make contact. Once you get up some speed, who wants to brake?

Time seemed to stop as we pedaled along this beautiful part of Deschutes National Forest, getting into that hypnotic zone that makes exercise not only tolerable but so often enjoyable. This is really just a fancy way of dressing up the fact that I don’t know how long it took us to reach the flaming chicken replica.

Later on, I spoke to Woody Starr, chairman of the board at COTA, who said, “I don’t know who put it there.”

The sculpture has been there for a few years, he said, in various incarnations.

“At first it was a plywood rendering of it, and then somebody got a hold of another version of it, and then that one came. So this is the third one, I believe. There’s a lot of speculation, but as in the early days of trail building and other activities in the forest, the actual artist or owner doesn’t come forward,” he says, chuckling.

There’s more art out on the trail for those seeking it, Starr said, including a giant bike sculpture and a forest gnome.

“It’s kind of like Bend, you know. We don’t discourage public art,” he said. “It’s a good thing to have, some creative expression. We’ve found that the Forest Service doesn’t outwardly object.”

Deschutes National Forest Trails Specialist Chris Sabo agrees with that assessment, more or less.

“We’ll see how far it goes. We try to keep our trails in more of a natural state,” he said. “I guess ‘tolerant’ is a good word for it.”

“Being that that’s more of a close, urban trail, I guess that’s where we’re tolerating it. If it was further out, we’d likely be removing things like that,” he added. For the time being, “it’s kind of considered local artwork for the trails.”

While stopped at the flaming chicken, we encountered Mark Van Hilten, 44, who said he rides the trail daily.

“I moved here about four years ago and just love it,” he said, catching his breath. “I just ended up driving down here from Portland every weekend to mountain bike, and then my sales position moved over here. Enjoying every day of it. Work a little bit, ride a little bit.”

Sounds like a nice work day to me.

The trail to and from was fairly easy except for one slightly challenging, body-jarring rocky stretch, although even that was easy compared to the network of trails you reach if you pedal deeper into the forest and up into the hills. I was getting tired just hearing Morical talk about them.

As he knows what he’s doing on a mountain bike, at times, he was 30 or 40 feet ahead of me. This might bother other riders, but not me. It was an improvement on when we go snowboarding together and he gets so far ahead I lose sight of him.

On the ride, he occasionally waited up so we could talk, mostly about how he, like Van Hilten, wants to make “noonr” rides a regular part of his lunch menu.

Toward the end of our ride, he piped up, “So do you want to be a mountain biker now?”

“Yeah,” I said, pausing a beat as I considered the light rain coming down versus my desk chair, whose little plastic wheels I ride daily. “Kinda.”

If you go

What: Phil’s Trail

Getting there: Head west on Skyliners Road about 2.5 miles and follow bike signs to paved road. Proceed half a mile down this road to trailhead parking area.

Difficulty: Easy to moderate, with plenty more challenging terrain for those seeking it

Cost: No trail fee required

Contact: 541-383-5300