(This is the first of two parts on the writer’s adventures with Cycle Oregon.)

The usually polite neighbor burst out laughing the first time I walked in the door wearing tight bicycling shorts. Granted, it’s an unusual sight on the Middle Fork to see a grown man wearing Spandex shorts and a gaudy cycling jersey.

By the reaction I got, I figured my years of riding a road bike were over. Good-natured ribbing is okay, but howling laughter isn’t.

Then I remembered that Grant County is right on the transcontinental bike route. That’s the trail following major highways from coast to coast. All summer long, cyclists pass through the county. Grant County is used to cyclists.

So I set to vigorous riding this summer. I had to get in shape for Cycle Oregon. Bucking hay helps, but isn’t a complete training regimen. You may remember Cycle Oregon from its visits to the county – all 2,000 riders and umpteen support workers and their rigs.

What inspired me to train was this year’s route. Six of the seven days featured mean uphills. The maps showed we would gain 28,000 feet in altitude. Roughly, that’s like riding up Mt. Hood twice on a bike with skinny tires.

Forgetting the laughter early in the season, I pedaled and pedaled. Grant County has plenty of mountain roads and passes for training. Back and forth on the Middle Fork. Up to Blue Mountain Summit. Up to Tipton Summit. Up to Dixie Summit – from both directions. Those plodding uphill rides pay their rewards with the downhill rides. Zipping down Dixie into Austin Junction is a blast. So is rolling seven miles downhill on smooth road from Tipton.

In early September, I hooked with my lifelong pal Ron for the start of the week’s ride in Sisters. Instead of pitching our own tent for camping each day, we opted to use Cycle Oregon’s tent service. They lend you a tent, and set it up each day, delivering your gear bags and two comfortable chairs. Staying at a fancy hotel doesn’t feel as good as knowing “home” is all set up after long hours on a bike.

The temperature gauges on our bikes showed it was 22 degrees as we pulled out for the relatively easy run to LaPine. The riding quickly warmed us. And I was eager not to miss dinner. The menu featured “home cooked” desserts. This small town had no problem cooking up enough to feed 2,000 hungry riders.

Boy Scouts made lemon bars. Girl Scouts made strawberry shortcake. But the long lines formed at the string of Dutch-oven desserts. Several varieties of cobbler and pies steamed from the pots. Oooh, they were good.

The real work started the next day, with a 92-mile ride to Diamond Lake. A 12-mile climb near the end of the day taxed nearly everyone. The summit seemed elusive, a mirage. The top seemed just around the next bend in the road. Then the next. And the next. Riders were coming into camp long after the ride course supposedly was closed.

The day’s pain washed away with dinner on the shore of Diamond Lake. In the background, Mount Thielsen shifted colors from rock gray to purple as the sun set. The friendly conversation gradually turned to the next day’s ride, a spin around Crater Lake.

Crater Lake’s rim road is a jagged affair – up and down, up and down, lon-n-n-n-g up, down, another lon-n-n-n-g up, down. Steeled by my summer’s training, I chugged out of camp, determined to get around the lake.

A lot of people were more sensible than me and about 300 other riders. Some cyclists rode just to the rim, peeked at the lake, and went back to camp. Many more never left camp, lazing away the day until the afternoon ice cream social.

The heart-pounding ride, though, was done in as perfect weather as possible at Crater Lake. The lake surface was still as a mirror. Views to the four points of the compass stretched for miles, from mountain peaks to the far-off desert. The final prize was a 15-mile downhill cruise to camp. Yee-haw!

Next week: Grant County riders zip past our entrepid columnist. Maybe it was the desserts.

Les Zaitz writes occasionally about ranch life and other topics for the Blue Mountain Eagle. He can be reached at zaitzBCR@starband.net.