Reason to Ride Salem #4: Downtown.

I was wrong, Salem, and you deserve my apology. When our family moved from Portland to come here for my job, I was sure I was coming to cycling purgatory. I didn't give you much of a chance. I imagined all kinds of problems with your city streets and how cars interact with bikes, and I pictured that I would just avoid riding your downtown core as much as possible. I was wrong to think that way about you. I mean, we all know what kind of attention Portland gets when it comes to city riding, right? Not so for Salem. But it’s only because folks don’t know what they don’t know. Well, I am among the reformed. Those of us who have learned your streets from the handlebars have reason to love it here. We have all got to start saying it loudly on your behalf, Salem. For that reason, today, I stand before you and all 19 of my readers to proclaim: Salem, you ARE a bike town!

You’ve got good signage for bike routes, your lanes are well marked, and things are very accessible to cyclists. Your bike shops are really quite amazing, especially the people who work in them. Sure, on weekdays the traffic can get congested, so yeah, that’s an area where you could improve. Weekends here? Wow. Cyclists should feel like royalty. I rode your downtown streets a couple of times this weekend, and both times were great!

On Saturday I took the road bike for a spin, and after a morning meeting I took a squiggly route back home. I had a few minutes to poke around downtown before the return trip, so I just took random rights and lefts until I ended up at Saturday Market. It’s only April, so there’s not much produce being sold there yet, but lots of folks were out enjoying the first almost-warmish day together. I met some nice people just visiting here from Louisiana. They say it’s already hot there and getting hotter. We’re spoiled in this corner of the country when it comes to the weather. I continued on my ride through town and got to snap off a few pics of the Willamette University campus in its springtime color. The students there looked especially happy to have the sunshine.



Today Mrs. C and I had a delightful Sunday. After an early church service we zipped home and changed, then spent the next few hours ambling around town on our bikes. We kept a pace that was comfortable for both of us, and criss-crossed around the downtown area with ease. I took the blue beast so we could pack a few things along with us; Mrs. C's hybrid bike is a perfect match for city riding and it made me happy to see her happy. There are so few cars downtown on Sunday morning, you have your pick of lanes for blocks in either direction. That made the riding more casual and fun for both of us. We did indeed ride bikes and then drink coffee! Found a coffee shop and a little patch of sunshine on the corner of State and Commercial. Across the street were some spandex-donned cyclists doing the very same thing at another coffee establishment. I’m tellin’ ya, bikes and coffee pair very well together here in Oregon!

Cyclists, whether you’re passing through or stopping to enjoy what the center of Salem has to offer, don’t just ride the edges of this town. Go through the middle.

Springtime Cycling On The Historic Columbia River Gorge Highway

If you’re up for a quick drive out to Hood River, there’s an amazing ride waiting for you there that will hook you for life. You’ll keep coming back. Springtime is a really good time to go, and because of the mild winter we had, it’s time right now. So, cancel your plans for this Saturday and take a ride instead. Not even kidding.

Most of us know something about the Historic Columbia River Highway, that little ribbon of scenic roadway that we keep promising ourselves to visit while we go zooming by on I-84. Some stretches of the old highway are open for motorists who like to putter along and enjoy the scenery, but other parts are exclusively for the non-motoring crowd. Going past six waterfalls and an infinite number of breathtaking views, the scenic highway was truly an engineering marvel, making use of the contours and curves of the land in a way that you simply cannot appreciate from the superhighway down below. Choose a day when the weather reports tell you the gorge winds aren’t going to be too strong. Still, it’s probably best to just accept the fact that you’ll encounter some wind while you’re here. If you’ve got a small camera you can take along for the ride, it will come in handy.

Just east of Hood River is a really spectacular spot to ride. It starts with a quick climb up from Highway 35 to a spot known as the Mark O. Hatfield Trailhead. If you’ve got kiddos or novices along with you, the parking lot is a good place to start and end the ride, and avoid the hill altogether. From the trailhead, you’ll ride a lovely no-cars-allowed stretch of the old highway that features two restored tunnels and an amazing change of scenery as you pass from Western to Central Oregon in just a few miles. Spots for viewing and picnicking are provided near the tunnels as well. It is true that in this short spin you will cross between two climate zones, from Western to Central Oregon. The gentle climb you’ll take getting to the halfway point rewards you with a fun descent on the other side. It’s only a few miles long, but this little ribbon of asphalt is heaven.

Now you could just ride to the edge of the trail, turn back around and be completely happy with your ride. But you would have missed some important stuff. Keep going.


At the eastern end of the trail, a little road greets you and you’ll take a left, for a two-minute ride down into the tiny little town of Mosier. There it is, square in the middle of town: 10-Speed East. This hip little joint is your one-stop-shopping experience, folks: it’s a roastery, cafe, wi-fi spot, and social gathering place all in one. You get a sense as you come up close that this could be an interesting visit, and you’d be right. Swing the door open and take in the aromas that only a great little roaster house can give you. Look at the whimsical bike art everywhere, then the chalkboard filled with espresso and tea options. Yep, you’re living the ride-bikes-drink-coffee life. My favorite: "Kickstand," the house blend. Enjoy!

Now keep going...you’ll thank me later. Just seven more miles, and a little bit of a climb and you’ll have reached Rowena Crest Viewpoint. If the idyllic scenes along the way and the spectacular view of the gorge weren’t reward enough, the wildflowers in the spring definitely are. Because of the mild winter we just had, they're already blooming! If you’re here on a sunny day, the word “vivid” only starts to describe the colors you’ll enjoy along the hillsides. Spectacular.

The whole ride from Hood River to Rowena Crest Viewpoint and back could be done in a couple of hours, if you weren't stopping for pictures and coffee. Of course it goes without saying that you need to stop for ice cream before you leave Hood River.

Not such a bad way to spend part of your weekend, really.

Coffee Stop: "French Press," Salem, OR

The Northwest is wired with coffee places that have unique personality and charm. In this corner of the country, just about every city and town has a passel of ‘em. Cool little bustling spots that open before all the other businesses, serving up coffee creations and pungent aromas that delight you even before stepping inside the door. Interesting, odd little places that used to be banks or country stores or whatever, and now they’re filled with the sounds of espresso machines, funky music, and cheap little tables just large enough for cups, elbows, and conversation. Ready for a change of pace or scenery? No problem here in Oregon. Try the next place a half-block away...their pastries are to die for! For me, this is part of what sets Oregon apart from other parts of the country. My theory is that this is probably why your relatives come out here from Delaware and don’t want to leave. They don’t have cool coffee shops--I’m not making this up--they actually boast about the Dunkin Donuts coffee there. Sorry, Delaware, we win...but you can visit us anytime!


When you visit me in Salem, I might take you to a cool little spot that’s fairly new in town. It’s called “French Press.” I like this place very much, and I recently met up with my family there at the end of my bike ride (living up to the title of the blog, I suppose). Situated on South Commercial just before the Liberty split, its outside appearance draws you inside to see what you might find. Walking through the door convinces you to stay to partake of the food and atmosphere. A bit of french inspiration in this place is the result of some intentional decor, wall art, and the fare on the menu. Of course you’ll never really imagine you’re sitting inside a Paris cafe, but it’s got its own kind of charm and energy worth enjoying. Tables are situated near a fireplace, facing an open kitchen with an energetic crew that prepares every dish just the way you like it. Outside seating is available, but it’s kind of noisy because it’s so close to Commercial Street.




Here at French Press the specialty is the crepe. Since I’m not an egg guy (severely allergic actually), I can’t really comment on the crepes other than to say that a whole lot of folks look really happy when they’re eating them here, and the restaurant is really proud of them. Mrs. C and Nat had crepes while we were there, and they looked pretty yummy. Enough so that I took pictures. My egg-free option was a bagel loaded with veggies and stuff. It was good too. So yay for the food.










In my opinion, what takes this spot from good to great is the quality of the coffee. Whether you buy the house coffee or order a french press, you will enjoy an unmistakably bold and fresh cup and you’ll want more. They are proud to let you know that they use fair trade coffee for their on-site roasting process, and they’ve got the whole presentation thing figured out. Even the cup is shaped to mold right into your hands so that you lean across the table and wish you knew how to say something exquisitely French to your sweetie. But be careful. When I tried this move, I leaned forward and got a cramp in my leg from just having gotten off of the bike. Whatever I said out loud to Mrs. C probably didn’t really sound all that French...just really foreign. Still, the whole experience was magnifique!

Confessions of a Non-Purista

I am not a coffee connoisseur. Don’t let the blog title take you there. I’m pretty much an idiot when it comes to what makes great coffee great. Would you like some proof?
1. I have little packets of instant crystals in my cupboard.
2. I have no idea what kinds of beans we have right now or where they came from, other than that they’re in a shiny green bag in our freezer. I can’t remember if you are or you aren’t supposed to put them in the freezer...
3. We’re too cheap to replace the $40 grinder that was recalled a year ago.
4. Our coffee pot cost less than my last oil change.
5. I’ve been known to rewarm my morning coffee in the microwave.

Clearly I don’t know much about what makes great coffee great, but I sure enjoy it when I find it! It’s a social thing, and it’s a sensory thing. Find a coffee house with a great atmosphere, meet a good friend there, have a cup of coffee...game over. Get a moment to think alone, sit next to a picture window with a cup that is shaped to fit your hands, and a great aroma coming up from the steaming brewed cup, that’s a great day all by itself.

Maybe I’ll learn to become more coffee literate, but in the mean time I would rather share the moments that have jumped up and taken me by surprise, that have lifted me to new appreciation for a place, a person, a moment. These often happen when I’m riding my bike, or when I’m enjoying a hot beverage from a grande cup. I haven’t managed to do both simultaneously yet, but when I do, I’ll write about that, too.

"And since we've no place to go..."

The final leg of our wintry journey home began this morning in Kelso.  Southbound I-5 lived up to the hype on the morning news.  Chains on, then off, then back on again for good in Vancouver.  We slid, rattled, and revved our way through the snow and ice in our little CR-V, and the trip that had begun in Tacoma 24 hours before abruptly ended--just 20 feet from our garage.  "The little Honda that could" had finally met its match with the 18+ inches of snow that had piled up in our driveway.

I was so stressed by the driving antics of the other people on the freeway.  One spin-out after another told the story of how dangerous the road conditions truly were.  We lost count of the tow trucks. I tried to imagine all the things that suddenly changed for passengers inside their SUV-turned-missiles that had careened into snowbanks and medians. We had a near-miss of our own.  No other cars, nothing out of the ordinary, but we suddenly found ourselves sliding at an angle down the middle lane of the highway.  It probably was just an instant before we had righted ourselves, but it sure seemed like forever.  Slow down, Kelly. Your family is relying on you to make good choices.

Home now, we've already ventured back out to forage for "necessities" from Safeway. There's a full pot of coffee (this, I can tell you now, will be a common theme in my blog entries), a warm fire in the fireplace, there are friends over for the kids, Nancy's starting a new book, and I have time to ponder the creation of my blog.