# Covered Bridges 400km Route Link: https://ridewithgps.com/routes/46292989 My Ride: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/169957722 Total Time: 18:58 Ride Time: 16:42 Miles: 256.8 Elevation: 9800 ft Starting in the early darkness of SW Portland near Gabriel Park, the route began with a mile-and-a-half climb. The normally busy streets of SW Portland were nearly empty as I navigated toward Tryon Creek State Park. Near mile 3.5, a "Y" split in the road demanded my attention; I stayed left on Terwilliger Blvd. Passing by the park, a fast downhill dropped me into Lake Oswego. Caution is key on this descent – the merge can get tricky. Lake Oswego offered no bike lanes and one set of train tracks to be mindful of. At the I-205 underpass, I claimed the lane to ensure visibility amidst ongoing road construction. A new roundabout, part of recent improvements, marked the spot to cross the Willamette River. From there, I dropped into downtown Oregon City (OC), where a recent traffic change had eliminated the left turn onto Main Street. Navigating the back streets, I eventually rejoined Main. The climb out of OC is a bit of a slog: 400 feet of elevation in about a mile. At the top of the hill, watch out for a quick right followed by a quick left – traffic can be hard to spot here. Leaving suburban sprawl behind, I entered the rural landscape of Clackamas County. Farms and fields became the norm. Around mile 22, the route turned toward the outskirts of Canby. Leaving Canby, the predicted headwinds finally made their presence known. After a quick turn at Lone Elder and then I returned to the rural country roads. The next twenty miles offered a mix of fairly flat terrain, lovely scenery, and that now-familiar headwind. Between miles 45 and 46, I reached the first control: Gallon House Bridge. Built in 1916, this bridge earned its name during Prohibition as a meeting place for bootleggers and moonshiners ^[Gallon House Bridge. (2023, August 6). In _Wikipedia_. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gallon_House_Bridge]. ![[Gallon House Coverd Bridge.jpg|400]] First control complete, I pushed on toward Silverton. While I find Silverton tricky to find convenient nutrition, there is a Subway on Water St., I continued south towards Sublimity. The twelve-mile stretch between Silverton and Sublimity my old frenemy, the headwind, returned. These miles also featured steady, low-grade climbs on a busy road with a narrow shoulder. Thankfully, the drivers were courteous. With Stayton only two miles ahead, I saw one gas station entering Sublimity but opted to roll through. Entering Stayton, I knew I'd find services near Highway 22 and a Safeway about a half-mile south. This was crucial, as it's the last town for nearly 40 miles – resupply is suggested! As the wind picked up, a cold drizzle joined the challenge, urging me onward. Leaving Stayton, the route veered left, introducing me to the rural beauty of Linn County. These new roads delighted with their low traffic and picturesque scenery, but the price was soon revealed: climbs approaching a 10% grade. Exhausted after a steep second climb, I quickly descended to the second control, Hannah Bridge. Built in 1936 this bridge honors John Joseph Hannah, the pioneer who settled nearby in 1853 ^[Hannah Bridge. (2024, April 1). In _Wikipedia_. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hannah_Bridge]. ![[Hannah Covered Bridge.jpg|400]] From Hannah Bridge, the route headed west. Enjoying a small detour leading to a ruby of a crossing: Shimanek Bridge. Though not a control, this side trip is well worth it. Shimanek, the fifth bridge at this location, is also the most recent, built in 1966 after the Columbus Day Storm ravaged its predecessor ^[Shimanek Bridge. (2023, July 29). In _Wikipedia_. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shimanek_Bridge]. ![[Shimanek Covered Bridge.jpg]] My journey south and west continued, the roads unfolding with quiet charm and scenes of rolling countryside. Arriving at Hoffman Covered Bridge marked a milestone: the culmination of my exploration of the Willamette Valley's historic crossings. Built in 1936 and aptly named after its builder, Lee Hoffman, this bridge held a special significance ^[Hoffman Bridge. (2023, August 7). In _Wikipedia_. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hoffman_Bridge]. ![[Hoffman Covered Bridge.jpg]] From the Hoffman Bridge, the route continues south. Aiming for Lebanon, one of the larger towns with full services, I zig-zagged through town and quickly found myself back in open farmland. This is where the adventure started, the first routing issue. With new routes, routing issues are likely, hence my pre-ride. Sometimes, just sometimes the Dead End signs don't lie. Blueberry Hill Rd. had accurate signage, but Google Maps did not. ![[Blueberry rd_closed.jpg]]<center><em>Closed? Say it isn't so...</em></center> My map insisted the road continued through. ![[Screenshot 2024-04-29 at 8.36.54 PM 2.png|400]] _Digital lies..._ Yet, the real world disagreed. ![[Blueberry rd_gravel.jpg|400]] _Gravel is fine, but..._ Things only went downhill from here... ![[Blueberry rd_dead end.jpg|400]] _How bad can it be?_ But hey, who doesn't like a little adventure? ![[Blueberry rd_adventure.jpg|400]] _Detours can be rewarding in their own way...sometimes that reward is simply finding a paved road_ Rest assured, for future riders, I updated the route to the fully accessible and paved Rock Hill Dr. Back en route, I continued south toward Brownsville, my first planned stop. The road to Brownsville has tight shoulders and punchy climbing. Arriving in Brownsville I opted for a gas station stop at the south end of town, Dollar General and Dairy Mart were tempting alternatives. After topping up on water and calories I pedaled onward. Heading south on Gap Rd from Brownsville, the shoulder narrowed again, with more climbing. Traffic was light, allowing for uninterrupted views of the rolling scenery. Finally, Gap Rd turned west, becoming Diamond Hill Rd and carrying me over the I-5, depositing me into Harrisburg. Harrisburg, a welcome oasis at the halfway point, I opted to grab a Subway sandwich and twenty blissful minutes off the bike. If Subway isn't your jam, there are convenience stores and other slower food stops (99 Grill is en route). With full bottles and a slightly revived spirit, I headed north toward Albany, the long-awaited tailwind finally offering some respite. Navigating Harrisburg proved simple enough, though a surge in traffic caught me off guard. Thankfully, the bustle faded at the edge of town. Heading north, the landscape shifted, becoming less lush than the southbound ride. I knew a tricky crossing awaited near mile 150. Highway 34 buzzed with mid-afternoon traffic moving at speed, but I found my opportunity to cross safely. Though busier than earlier stretches, drivers remained courteous as I approached Albany. Albany is an open control, with limited on-route options. A small grocery as you enter town is an option if needed. Leaving Albany the traffic was light crossing the Willamette and turning north onto Springhill Dr. The Willamette River offered a delightful stretch: light traffic, a helpful tailwind, and stunning views. Several county parks even appeared along the way, promising restrooms if needed. The twenty miles from Albany to Independence should feel familiar to Eden's Gate 400 veterans. Independence is another open control. I stopped at JimmyZ's market, escaping the drizzle and refueling with chicken strips and much-needed coffee. With water bottles full and a sense of urgency, I prepared for the 40-mile push to Dayton. The goal: reach it before darkness fell, sunset looming just two and a half hours away. My route took a twist as I continued from Independence toward Monmouth, turning north on Monmouth Ave. Frustration flared as a mere block in, the road was a construction zone! No detours, no helpful signs - just fencing blocking the street. Adapt and overcome, the sidewalk on the right worked well to navigate around the construction. ![[PXL_20240428_011801865.jpg]]_A surprise detour_ Two miles further north brought a change in terrain. Thankfully, the route's sole 2-mile gravel section was well-maintained, and the fields of vibrant yellow flowers bordered the path, softening the transition from pavement. ![[PXL_20240428_012916349.jpg|400]] Clow Corner Rd. marked the end of the gravel, I found the road busy with a narrow shoulder, my timing may explain the busyness. Turning north, the route remained busy as I navigated into Dallas. The town has lots of amenities, so it's worth a resupply if arriving later in the evening. The climb out of Dallas held a challenge - a busy crossing at Highway 22. As I pushed toward Perrydale, the fading sunlight sparked a sense of urgency. A dash against the dimming sunlight was inevitable. Two hundred and ten miles weighed on my legs, but reaching the control as darkness fell felt like a small victory. Center Market, a welcome stop, offers full supplies... full value riders should note the market's midnight closing time. The final forty miles were a solo journey into darkness. My Nightrider front lights sliced through the emptiness, essential for navigating the inky darkness. Surprisingly, drivers on Abbey Rd were incredibly cautious, giving me a wide berth as they passed. Exhaustion was in full effect as I began the last big ascent on North Valley Rd. Perfectly timed for the intense climbing starting near mile 232, culminating at Gibbs Cemetery, the ultimate photo control. ![[PXL_20240428_051643541.jpg]] _Eerie solitude_ In the misty darkness, the cemetery felt eerily fitting: a cold, wet, and solitary pause, near the end of a grueling day on the bike. The cemetery marked the start of a rollercoaster of descents. The first was a plunge. Into foggy blackness. A brief, punchy climb followed, then another drop, capped with a jarring stop sign. The final descent was a wild, twisting rush, speed tempting fate in the wet and cold with poor visibility. Emerging from the Newberg foothills, the route crossed Highway 99's glaring lights, then veered into the maze of Sherwood's suburban sprawl. Take note: at the curve on Baker Rd, continue on to Morgan. A lesson I learned the hard way, backtracking in the darkness after missing that vital turn. ![[Screenshot 2024-04-30 at 8.47.39 PM.png|400]] _An easily overlooked transition_ The rest of the suburban roads were a blur of shadows, with only the occasional car to break the quiet. Descending into Tualatin felt like a return to civilization: bike lanes, street lights, the hum of traffic. Don't be fooled – finding the Tualatin River Greenway Trail entrance is tricky! Look for a driveway swallowed by a dark void, just as Boones Ferry Rd bends to the left. The trail plunged into near-total darkness. Twists and turns demanded constant focus. Pay attention to the cues! Right after crossing the bridge, a tempting left turn appears – this is NOT the turn. Continue about 100 meters for the correct turn. The narrow path snaked onward, the risk of walkers lurking in the shadows urged caution. Suddenly, trees gave way to a parking lot. Turn right to rejoin the trail. As I climbed out of the park, a gate loomed – a potential obstacle depending on the time of day. The end also came abruptly: a cul-de-sac! Look for the ramp to the street on your left. The final push was through Tigard and Beaverton on Hall Blvd. Just past Highway 99, a pleasant surprise: a construction zone closed to cars! ![[PXL_20240428_064349082.jpg|400]] _A welcome respite from traffic_ Luckily, a bike and pedestrian bridge offered safe passage over Hwy-217. Detour signs on the sidewalk guided me onward. ![[PXL_20240428_064437095.NIGHT.jpg|400]] _A dark crossing_ Back on track, the construction chaos after the pedestrian bridge required alertness. A few final twists and turns, and there it was: the finish control. This route is a beast. It's more than just the mileage... expect headwinds, desolate stretches, and brutal climbs when your legs are toast. But despite everything, the sense of accomplishment makes me say, "I'll ride this again."