Update 4

I rolled into town late at night and went to the REI to get a new sleeping bag. I had dispatched the old one back home and was getting a little cold sleeping under a mylar blanket. The friendly folks there hooked me up with a nice Marmot bag and sent me out into the Deschutes NF, literally 2 minutes out of town. I woke up to a continuous stream of mountain bikers rolling past my campsite. (There are no gyms in Bend. Bend is a gym, so why put a gym in a gym?)

My plan for the next day was to get a new rear tire at the local shop, Procaliber, and do laundry at the local Sip and Suds (bar/laundromat). I rolled up with a Dunlop D606 slung over my shoulder and threw it down on the asphalt to soften up in the heat. Not 5 minutes later a dude on a KTM450 rolled by and I waved. He turned around and suggested that I ought to go over to his place and change tires and throw back a beer. I saw sense in this plan. So off to Justin's place.



We got the tire changed, and went out to rip it up. We rode some beautiful power line roads out to China Hat, right through ancient lava flows .



We then went out in search of a singletrack loop. I have a weak spot for challenges and when he pointed out a hillclimb, I couldn't decline. I've ridden uphill before, but nothing loose or particularly steep. I spent my sweet time studying the hill and removing anything that could possibly break.

Walking like a boss before making that hill my bitch :



I asked if it was cheating if I restarted after trenching, and apparently it wasn't. No luck though. Back down and off to some singletrack.



Singletrack went well, lots of fun on the WR250R. It was getting late so time to charge the power line road back home. I went ahead, found a groove, and had the WR pinned in 6th gear most of the way. It floated pretty nice through with the right body english, but with no suspension adjustments without luggage I was getting some pretty bad hits when the back would kick up and slam my spine. Finally I punctured the front tire on a rock and kept charging for a quarter mile before I realized something was wrong. Thumbs up for the Tubliss. Rode flat back into town for beers and food.



Some of his friends rolled up later that night and represented next to our bikes.



Got back to Justin's place, poured some tequila on the rocks, and got to talkin'. I've got a big phobia of being eaten by a bear, but I'm not packing--I couldn't figure out a sensible way to carry anything worth carrying. He's a MechE so we starting thinking and came up with this solution:



Justin had just moved from Austin, TX to a new job so he had a spare room in his corporate apartment and has been kind enough to put me up for a few nights. Living the good life.



I forgot to string my food up from a tree and his cats got into my beef jerky and ate about half a pound then barfed it all over the carpet. The main culprit, Newton, plotting my doom.