June 10th, 2021

FYI, we have been out in the remote outback of eastern OR, so while I wrote a few blog updates, I could not post them. I will post them over the next day or two so check back and there should be a few updates. Lastly posting from my phone is less than ideal for grammar/spelling, so please forgive

Jolted
​It was 1am when Sarah and I were jolted awake by our tent's violent snapping sound. It was being accosted by the strong gusting winds. Up until then, I had been soundly sleeping, not even waking once. This is not usual for me. But just like that, i went from wistful slumber to almost panic. I started to wonder, was a huge storm coming? Will our tents hold up? Did we just make a huge mistake? How the hell did we get here?
We dicided to camp at Unity Campground in eastern OR the afternoon before. Our choices were to proceed onward and just make up some miles, or do a short day and start setting up camp early. We were all tired from the trip and thought this could be a great overnight. The skies had been appearing to clear and the sun was brighter than we'd seen in days. So we set up camp and cleaned up, even washing some cycling gear by hand. The clothes dried in the sun and I thought sunny weather was winning the at atmospheric battle. But maybe it wasn't?
I couldn't tell from inside the warm sleeping bag what the skies looked like. Would it be partial overcast or complete hell coming our way? The only way to assess the situation was to leave the warmth and go out. I guess it's lucky that both of us also had to go to the bathroom so we could kill two birds with one stone. We.braved the cold and wind and took a peak/leak for ourselves. It wasn't good news. I couldn't see a single star, only varying shades from grey to black. The clouds were thick and the wind kept howling.
We laid awake in the tent for a few hours in silence. I kept asking the same question in different ways; did we just make a huge mistake? At almost 3am Sarah asked me a few times if I was ok, was I worried? I was. I could envision us waking to a violent storm in the middle of the most desolate stretch of road we have yet to cover. The plan was to ride 70 miles the next day to Vale, OR, but according to locals, there isn't much in between here and there. I always assumed that if truly violent weather hit us, we'd eventually find shelter, I just hadn't planned on it being 70 miles away.
There were a few times when the wind would stop completely for minutes at a time. And I do mean completely. All of a sudden it would become early silent. This, and exhaustion let my mind and body drift back to sleep eventually. When I awoke about an hour ago, there was no sun, the wind was still gusting, but there was no rain and the birds were singing. The mountains to the west seemed to be hogging the rain, sparing us a dry morning, at least for now. Maybe we should get an early start and keep ahead of the weather. Maybe we should do what we came to do; ride our bikes.