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Tasting the Forbidden Fruit: This weekend's Chainbreaker race offers a great way to see Skyline Forest

The annual Cascade Chainbreaker mountain bike race is perhaps best known for providing a passport to forbidden fruit: private land, almost 33,000 acres of it, riddled with single track.

The annual Cascade Chainbreaker mountain bike race is perhaps best known for providing a passport to forbidden fruit: private land, almost 33,000 acres of it, riddled with single track. Like Willy Wonka opening the factory gates, the Chainbreaker has effectively served as the single track equivalent of the Golden Ticket, providing participants with access to fantastic and isolated trail.
What many people don't know is they can go there anytime they like, at least during spring, summer and fall. But they might want to bring a topographical map, a compass and a strong sense of direction. The Skyline Forest, as it's now referred to, encompasses almost 50 square miles of undeveloped land northwest of Bend. Historically known as the Bull Springs Tree Farm, this huge chunk of land is the prize in a slow-developing transaction between the Deschutes Land Trust and the property's owner, Cascade Timberlands, LLC.

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Pretending to Like Soccer: How to fit in at a bar full of Portland Timbers fans

Here's something you should know, especially if you plan on visiting Portland any time soon. They have a soccer team. And a real soccer team, at that.

Here's something you should know, especially if you plan on visiting Portland any time soon. They have a soccer team. And a real soccer team, at that. Not the jive-ass minor league, playing-on-Astroturf-with-baseball-dugouts-in-the-background sort of team, but an actual MLS squad with a big-name corporate sponsor emblazoned across the chests of its players and a real-life mascot who actually cuts logs in half on the sideline with a chainsaw.
They're called the Timbers and Portlanders love them. A lot. And unlike in other U.S. cities equipped with MLS teams, Portland fans actually watch their team. The games are sold out and last Saturday I couldn't find a bar that wasn't equipped with an audience of beer-in-hand, eyes-on-the-screen fans, many of whom were draped in the Timbers' yellow-on-green jerseys. Given that Portland is essentially a European city masquerading as a well-read mid-market American settlement, this enthusiasm fits well with their bicycle lanes and efficient mass transit.

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The Hidden Crooked River: A chance invite turns into an epic exploration on the lower Crooked

Imagine seeing your guide being catapulted a dozen feet in the air, legs running airborne above water that's raging over boulders the size of a small car.

Imagine seeing your guide being catapulted a dozen feet in the air, legs running airborne above water that's raging over boulders the size of a small car. Not a normal occurrence for my friend and river guide David Kinker or the Crooked River. Yet it's those moments that brought 27 boaters, made up of two catarafts, two rafts, and 16 kayakers together to celebrate an April day. The conditions for our trip are seen a few days to a week per year on the Crooked, and not necessarily every year. In our case, the high flows created about five rapids in the class IV and V range within towering narrow canyon walls. These required expertise in setting up safety lines and a high level of awareness at all times from fellow boaters.

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Holy Hair! Why playoff beards are better than the actual playoffs

Why I think every professional athlete should be mandated by federal law to grow a massive beard. Get off your butts, Congress, and make it happen.

I don't watch much hockey. During a standard non-Olympic year, which we happen to be in presently, I would guess that I take in a culmination of about three full games, maybe more if you add in the amount of hockey I watch at bars during the commercial breaks of college basketball games.
But last week, I ended up viewing at least a half hour of a Stanley Cup Playoffs match up between the Vancouver Canucks and the Chicago Blackhawks on Thursday, and then almost another full period of a game between Buffalo and Philadelphia later in the weekend. And I realized something about hockey players: These guys kind of look like hell. I mean, in the same way I typically look like hell – eyes in need of a nap, teeth that could use some work, hair terribly unkempt and a beard that's completely out of control. This was when I remembered one of the few things that I like about hockey, other than the fancy backward skating: “playoff beards.”

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Trail Riding Opportunities Aplenty: A glance at Central Oregon's current singletrack conditions

With the rains at the end of this past week and sprinkles over the weekend, nearly all of the local mountain bike trail networks are in prime shape for spring riding.

With the rains at the end of this past week and sprinkles over the weekend, nearly all of the local mountain bike trail networks are in prime shape for spring riding. Adding to the great (read: just tacky enough) trail conditions is the fact that wildflowers are beginning to appear along some routes.
So without further ado, here's a handy guide to decent spring riding, and in some cases, updates on possible changes to certain trail systems.
Maston Allotment
The Maston has been riding firm and fast and much later into the spring because of so much rider traffic over the past two years. Note that some of that firm trail will go away in the future as it's being replaced by a new alignment. Given the Maston's sandy soils, some time will pass before we have a decent tread again in that section.

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You Need 61 Days? When the NBA playoffs finally end, I'll already be really old

When the NBA playoffs are finally over, my beard will have turned gray, the wrinkles on my forehead multiplied, my fear of immigrants quadrupled.

Last weekend, I settled in for two mostly uninterrupted days of NBA playoff basketball. Then, on Monday morning, I took a photo of myself.
Why? Because I plan on getting deep into this spring's edition of the NBA playoffs – regardless of how the Blazers fare – for the first time in half a decade and I needed to capture an image of myself as a young man. When the playoffs are finally over, my beard will have turned gray, the wrinkles on my forehead multiplied, my fear of immigrants quadrupled. My emails will be sent from an AOL account and written in all capital letters and I’ll begin speaking of little other than the weather… because I'll be super old by the time these playoffs are over. But hey, at least I might have an RV or a golf cart.

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Let it Snow: Spring is a fine time to see and survive the Lower Deschutes

Running the Whitehorse rapids on the Lower Deschutes.

I got the call to run the Lower Deschutes as little bullets of hail pounded against my window Thursday night. But it's difficult to get motivated to spend the weekend on the river when it's snowing. So, I made a pact with myself that I wouldn't go if it were to snow the next morning. Instead, I'd stay warm and cozy all weekend by the fireplace, reading and getting some work done.
It was snowing Friday morning when I woke up, but aside from that, I had no good excuse not to go. I had access to all the gear I needed to keep me warm, and this would also be a very special occasion: the maiden voyage of my friend Sandy Arch's new 130-foot raft, which she christened Little Sweetie.

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“Goff vs. Golf” at the Masters

Bob Woodward’s take on the Masters.

For four days every April, I get hooked on a televised sporting event called The Masters. The sport in question is “goff.” It looks a lot like golf, but according to patrician looking elderly men in green blazers appearing on the Masters television broadcasts, it's “goff.”
Masters goff is about wealthy young men playing a golf-like game in front of an extremely well-dressed and polite audience in a fairyland setting known as the Augusta National course.

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Home on the Range: Cast and blast at Lake in the Dunes

You don't come to Summer Lake, Oregon, in March for the weather.

You don't come to Summer Lake, Oregon, in March for the weather. This is the country where, according to local legend, Northwest explorer John C. Fremont was nearly stranded in the mountains overlooking the windswept basin and its namesake water body. Nonetheless, my companions couldn't resist pointing out during a recent trip to the Lake in the Dunes, just outside Summer Lake, that they had enjoyed T-shirt weather the previous year on the same weekend. Thankfully, we weren't there for the weather, which proved a mix of gusting winds, freezing temperatures and blowing snow, usually all at once, during the course of our weekend stay at the sportsmen's ranch that lies about two hours southeast of Bend.

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You Were Right: Congrats to the UConn basketball fan who called and threatened me with violence

There are two things you can be sure of when you begin penning a sports column, even if most of what you write, like in this column, is intentionally childish, mostly ridiculous and deep-fried in sarcasm.

There are two things you can be sure of when you begin penning a sports column, even if most of what you write, like in this column, is intentionally childish, mostly ridiculous and deep-fried in sarcasm. The first thing is, a few people will really like what you write, and maybe a few of them will tell you so. Secondly, a few people will really not like what you're writing and all of them will tell you about it.
For example, here's what happened on Thursday:
First the phone rang in our office, as it does at least 10 times a day. Then, someone told me I had a call. I answered jovially, because that's how I greet the people kind enough to call me.

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