Outside Features

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.

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.

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.

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.

It's 8:15am. Snow safety supervisor John Millslagle's ski patrol radio crackles, a voice comes through, “30 seconds on the cornice… ”
Standing near the edge of the west ridge of Mt. Bachelor's Summit Bowl he turns toward me and shouts over the noise of the wind, “You're going to want to plug your ears and open your mouth… it's going to be pretty loud.”
It's a cold and windy 15-degree blue bird morning on the summit. It's been snowing for a few days and the summit has been closed. Millslagle, a 17-year Mt. Bachelor patrol veteran and his patrol partner, Simca Lachman, cover their ears. Along the ridge and across the bowl, the two other pairs of patrollers do the same.