Bike-crazy Bend offers plethora of group rides, clubs

Published 12:00 am Saturday, May 21, 2016

Moving to a new city like Bend can be gnarly. Finding a reasonably priced apartment amid a housing crisis, navigating streets that change names every few blocks and making new friends are among the challenges.

Sometimes plugging into a group of folks who share an interest in a hobby or a sport is the best way to meet like-minded people.

Being new to Bend myself and a middle-of-the-road cyclist — the cycling everyman, if you will — the opportunity to do a Community Life story on bike clubs and public rides had the potential to be mutually beneficial.

As luck would have it, uber-athletic Bend is home to approximately 20 bicycle shops, and an online search opens a floodgate of dozens of rides and groups open to the public. Most are categorized by discipline (road or mountain biking), skill/tempo level and distance and in the instance of a couple all-women rides, gender.

To give readers a realistic flavor for the range of bicycle clubs and rides, I tagged along with four distinct groups that range from the all-women Bend Bella Cyclists — we rolled along a forested single track — to the punishing “Hammer Fest” that shot me through a cave of pain.

Central Oregon Wheelers

Sam Handelman and Bob Haas founded Central Oregon Wheelers, one of Bend’s first coed nonbike-shop-affiliated cycling clubs last month. Known also as COW, they’re planning on making bovine-printed riding kits for members.

On a recent Sunday, I joined Handelman and a half dozen riders for the group’s second official ride from Sisters’ Village Green Park along the McKenzie Pass to the Dee Wright Observatory. The pace was intermediate, averaging 16 mph on the flat section through the Ponderosas and alpaca-dotted pastures. The 2,300-foot climb was also conversational; riders — some longtime friends, others new acquaintances — mixed and matched each other’s speeds, sharing a few words as the ride rose above the tree line and emerged at Windy Point, where they pulled off to savor the view. Handelman, 60, and Haas, 63, teased me about my West Coast mountain knowledge, or lack thereof. “Look, there’s Mount Rainier!” Haas said, pointing to Mount Washington. I grinned, reveling in the Grade-A dad humor.

At the summit, surrounded by ancient lava fields, a bitter wind inspired a quick return descent. After shifting down to low gear, the group tucked in and quickly achieved speeds nearing 40 mph (according to my cycling computer) down the winding road. That the wheelers weren’t cowed by the streaks of red cinder and wet patches was a testament to their years spent in the saddle. Returning to the forest, we settled into a pace line with another group of riders, an effort to ward off the headwind.

“Some of those guys are in their 60s,” Handelman said, impressed by the 18-mph pace they maintained.

The COWs organize about four rides a week, often tracing popular Oregon Scenic Bikeways or favorite out-and-back routes such as Skyliner Road. Judging by the large group that crowded its inaugural meeting — most were over the age of 50 — the club is filling a niche.

“As a recreational group of old duffers riding around,” Handelman said, there shouldn’t be the expectation that they are winning races and earning high exposure for a sponsoring shop. By taking on the administrative responsibilities themselves, COW can ensure that it serves its members’ needs. A $20 annual membership fee affords the club a $1 million liability insurance, should an accident happen on a ride. Handelman said COW presently has 90 members.

Bend Velo’s “Steel Ride”

Bend Velo bike shop placed a listing in The Bulletin’s event calendar that had the potential to resonate with any cyclist who loves vintage bikes: “Break out that cool retro steel bike and ride with friends along a 30-mile loop on sweet roads to the east of Bend.” Steel was the standard bike frame material of the precedent cycling eras.

One ride along with this group was not enough. I participated in the Friday evening ride, now in its second year, three different times, and each ride was distinct. The first time I showed, I was the only attendee, but that didn’t matter to shop mechanic Tory Sox. He rolled out a modified Schwinn mountain bike and led me on the loop; he even let me set the pace. When I got a flat tire at mile 20, Sox fixed it much faster than I could have. In the following weeks, Bend Velo owner Eric Power, 55, led the rides, accompanied each time by half a dozen steel bike enthusiasts — and one rider on a carbon fiber bike.

“The bolts are steel, though,” Alan Wulzen joked.

Power, gregarious and wise-cracking, has a vested interest in promoting these steel rides. He also owns J. Livingston Bikes. Power takes neglected 1980s steel mountain bike frames and, after powder-coating them, fits them with upright handlebars and sensible components, racks and baskets that make for beautiful — and relatively affordable — commuter bikes.

Power said the Friday steel rides have lots of potential to grow as people realize riding steel at a leisurely pace is a great way to socialize. He also organizes several overnight 200-mile rides each year that take riders to destinations such as the Painted Hills.

For Power, riding steel also carries a bit of nostalgia for his bygone racing days, but he maintains that the weekly rides are an intentional “step away from The Hammer Fest. We stay together, talk about old bikes, and put up with the nuance of down-tube shifters,” he said. “The true enjoyment is just riding with friends.”

The Hammer Fest

One of several open-to-the-public, race-simulating rides, The Hammer Fest is the most well-attended, and possibly the most intense. Leaderless and promoted by word-of-mouth, the pace of the ride — which follows the 34-mile Twin Bridges Loop — is like that of a professional race. Unlike the other rides I joined, this has a vehement drop policy. In other words, if a rider falls behind the group, then he or she is on his or her own. This is not a club; it’s not a social event the purpose of this outing is an intense, fast-paced ride.

In the parking lot at Sunnyside Sports, men and at least one woman straddled their high-end road bikes, chatting. There was a familiarity among the riders, many of whom wore local shop jerseys, although the air was laced with a tension common before a race. Rolling onto NW Shevlin Park Road, the group of 20 to 30 cyclists, riding two-abreast in the bicycle lane, elicited the ire of an Audi driver, who blasted his horn. As we passed through Shevlin Park, another group of 20 cyclists, waiting at the Johnson Road intersection, converged with our group. Soon the hammer would drop and, consequently, so would I.

Swooping down the hill on Tyler Road, the pack quickly exceeded 40 mph. I’m comfortable — if exhilarated — at this speed if I’m riding solo or with a friend, but not in this tightly wound group where a stray pine cone could cause a pileup. I was in over my head, so I eased my way to the back of the group. For the next several miles I watched the procession of gumballs slip farther into the distance. I eventually pulled even with another rider, who wore a white mountain biking helmet. Keith Bell, 45, was panting but not lacking in spirit. He said his friends encouraged him to join The Hammer Fest — his first time. A physician’s assistant at Mosaic Medical center, Bell supplements his mountain biking with long hauls on his road bike because “on a road ride, you don’t beat your body up as much as when you’re mountain biking — you can really hammer.”

Hammering is what attracted him to the ride that day — he wanted to see how long he could stick with the hardcore pack. He held on until mile 4.

After being dropped, Bell and I caught up to a couple other riders at Highway 20. Bell recognized one of them as a nurse he met years ago when he was a student doing a cardiology rotation at St. Charles Medical Center. Small world, they both agreed.

Bell plans to ride the hammer again, but first he wants to pack in a full month of hard training. His goal is to stick with the group until the halfway mark. Ultimately he’s training for the 100-mile Cascade Cream Puff mountain bike race, and The Hammer Fest is a performance litmus test.

“It’s most hardcore group ride in town. If you can hang with the group until the end, you’re fit,” he said.

After returning home from The Hammer Fest, I didn’t ride a bike for several days. Riding, however fleetingly, with Bend’s best cyclists left me dejected.

Bend Bella Cyclists

This inclusive, beginner-paced ride with the Bend Bella Cyclists was the perfect balm for the recent hammering. The group, which is directed by an executive board, counts 125 members and organizes both road and mountain bike rides about 15 times a month. Most of the Bellas are retirees who, restless during the week, often churn trails and roads together in solitude, unmolested by weekend warriors.

Prior to a recent ride, the group gathered at Sisters’ Village Green Park. Half a dozen riders were equipped with full suspension mountain bikes, clipless shoes and a variety of layered riding attire. Susan Frank, that day’s ride organizer, and the Bellas were expecting me and my cyclocross bike. We set off for a 15-mile out-and-back along the Sisters Tie Trail. They didn’t let on until later in the ride that my bike’s rickety fenders (a sensible winter-commuter accessory) made me odd-man-out on the single track. “You’re clearly from out-of-town,” a Bella behind me said with a chuckle. The soft crunch of pine needles under tire is an immensely pleasing sound.

When some brush got caught in the spokes of Marsha Wolfson, a Bella administrator, they hollered “Stopping!” from the rear. They later said the pace was too hard for the casual pace they’d agreed on beforehand. Karen Kuter, who recently moved from Seattle, said she enjoys all-women rides. When rides are coed and a flat tire occurs, she said, men like to step in to fix it.

Kuter added, “They’re just being nice, but it’s nice to learn how to do it on our own.”

— Reporter: 541-617-7816, pmadsen@bendbulletin.com