Last Friday, under partly cloudy skies and the assumption that Phil’s Trail would be even more crowded due to athletic people in town for Pole Pedal Paddle, I headed east for an afternoon mountain bike jaunt on Swamp Wells Trail.

I climbed out of my car at the trailhead and noticed two women approaching on horseback. Since they and the horses occupied the quarter-mile spur I needed to take to Swamp Wells Trail, I figured I’d let them pass before embarking on my ride, taking my time readying my mountain bike, water and snacks. (Mustn’t forget snacks. “This mortal form grows weak, I require sustenance,” as Thor says in the new film. And let’s face it, I’m no Thor.)

They were talking to each other, but seemed to be keeping an eye on me. By ignoring them and going about my business, I was trying to tacitly convey, “Hey, I come in peace.”

Here in Deschutes National Forest off China Hat Road, shooting is popular in old cinder pits, and artillery reports make up the majority of background noise. You can’t really blame anyone for being skittish — man, woman or horse.

Next time I glanced over, they were stopped maybe 50 feet away on the dusty trail.

“My horse is scared of you,” one of the women called out.

“Me?” I immediately thought.

“Would you mind talking to him so he knows you’re OK?”

I called out in my most obliging sing-song voice, “Hey, boy! You’re a good horse!” or something like that, adding to its rider, “You did say he’s a boy, right?”

As they advanced, she noticed my Red Cross T-shirt and asked, “Do you work for the Red Cross?”

I told her nope, just a regular donor. She said she’s a nurse at the Red Cross, and the ice thus broken, explained that her horse is very young and off the ranch for the first time. She asked me to slowly close and reopen the hatchback of my Prius so he could see that it’s not a threat.

Perhaps, to a young horse, an open hatchback resembles a giant, gaping jaw, but that horse could probably have kicked my car across China Hat if he’d been so inclined.

I did as asked, and soon enough they were on their way, the woman sending me off with a call of, “Keep donating blood!”

“I will,” I enthused, but I didn’t realize how soon I was in for a little bloodletting.

The trail to Swamp Wells was a little loose, in part because the horses’ hooves had just turned the soil a bit, but once I reached Swamp Wells Trail proper, the ground was nice and firm, just the right amount of dampness from recent rains to hold down the “moon dust,” as so many refer to Central Oregon’s dirt, which is kind of like a gray baby powder,

A few pedal rotations later, I noticed a herd of deer, who of course had seen me first. Some started to turn tail and run, others eyed me cautiously.

I quickly pulled out my camera and — still pedaling — attempted to take aim and fire.

Based on recent experience, I’m going to advise against taking photos from a moving mountain bike. If I could piece together why I ended up in a pile of bicycle, plant matter, dirt and limbs, I could probably have avoided the mess altogether.

The short answer is “multitasking under the influence of wildlife.”

The deer headed for the hills as I picked myself up and put my chain back on the sprocket. Figuring the scraped knee was fine, I climbed back on the saddle and continued down the trail.

This may have been where my paranoia set in. I’d once heard that where there’s deer, there are cougars, and it hadn’t been long since officials put down a cougar that had been hanging around the Deschutes River Woods area. I began wondering if cougars had sniffers as potent as sharks, could get a whiff of my bloody knee and make ready to pounce on a weakened member of the human herd?

Maybe not rational, but hey, that’s the kind of thing that can start zinging around your mind when alone in the woods with no one wiser around to tell you otherwise.

On I went. In total, Swamp Wells Trail stretches 21 miles from Horse Butte, to my north, southward to the rim of Newberry Crater.

According to that week’s trail report from Deschutes National Forest Trails Specialist Chris Sabo, the snow level on the trail was about 5,700 feet. Given the length of my ride, the only snow I saw was on distant Cascades peaks.

According to the Forest Service’s website (www.fs.usda .gov/centraloregon), the long trail can be subdivided into shorter lengths than 21 miles. The north segment, from Horse Butte to Swamp Wells, is 11 miles in length. The middle segment from Swamp Wells to Forest Road 9710 is six miles. And the south, from Forest Road 9710 to the Crater Rim Trail, is four miles.

Since I had about a two-hour window to ride, I decided to go south, a mostly uphill ride, about an hour and 15 minutes, then turn around.

I came to another of the forest roads that intersect the trail. A red car was parked there, classic rock music blasting, with two guys standing near it. One waved to me, said something like, “You’re OK,” but the other standing right alongside the trail wouldn’t meet my eye.

Perhaps, that disarming little voice told me, they were the shooters I’d been hearing popping off rounds. Nothing unusual about that in this part of the forest. I waved hello, but sped up until I reached a steeper section peppered with rocks half-buried in the ground like nature’s obstacle course.

I came upon several of these more technical sections, easily negotiated by standing up and walking the bike over them. One cut knee is enough for me, but kudos to those with more agility.

The trail goes through a few changes: there’s lodgepole forest, sandy sections and acres of burned area. I didn’t have time to make it all the way to Swamp Wells because my allotted window was closing, but when I wasn’t making myself paranoid, I found it enjoyable.

Heading north again was the best. This meant long stretches of downhill riding, just the right incline to maintain speed without pedaling, but not so fast you’re taking chances on hitting rocks.

I heard sporadic gunfire, but when I reached the forest road where my two new friends had been, they were sitting in their car talking.

Later, I told my sometime outing companion Map Guy where I’d gone. He said “That’s way out there,” and told me I shouldn’t have ridden alone.

“Why?”

“You could have been eaten by a coyote.”

He was kidding, and I’ll definitely be going back to Swamp Wells Trail again, but I’ll allow more time and take along someone else to donate blood to the coyotes, cougars and whatever else may be lurking out there.

If you go

Getting there: From Bend, take U.S. Highway 97 south to the Knott Road exit. Head east on Knott Road, and turn right on China Hat Road. Follow China Hat for four miles and turn right on Forest Road 1810. The trailhead is a few hundred feet down the road.

Alternatively, one can begin the ride at Horse Butte Trailhead. From 27th Street near Knott Landfill, turn left on Rickard Road and go two miles east. Turn right on Billadeau Road, which turns into Horse Butte Road. Continue on the road, which becomes gravel, until you see the Horse Butte trailhead sign.

Difficulty: Easy to moderate

Cost: Free; no trail fees

Contact: 541-383-4000