Distance:  44-mile out and back
Elevation gain:  2880 ft

This is one of the Oregon rides that is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

There is very little to say about this simple, perfect ride.  It has no grand vistas, no exhilarating descents, no craggy monoliths—no breath-taking features of any kind.  It’s just 22 miles of lovely, pleasantly meandering, gently rising and falling two-lane road through the faery Western Oregon rain forest, then back.  It follows Quartzville Creek, which for 10 miles of our route is widened by Green Peter Dam into Green Peter Lake.  There is in fact 50 miles of Quartzville Road (or Quartzville Drive on some maps), which is officially the Quartzville Road Back Country Byway (though I saw no evidence of this along the route), and runs from Sweet Home on Hwy 20 to its dead end at Hwy 22.  The other 25 miles of Hwy 22 are chronicled in the Beyond Yellowbottom ride, which has a very different character.

This is one of the easier rides in Bestrides.  The road is rarely flat, but the pitch is often so mellow you can’t be sure if you’re climbing or descending, and it’s never enough to make you break a sweat.

Park at Sunnyside Park, a lovely county park that is friendly, cheerful, and free.  Ride up Quartzville Road/Drive for the entire ride.  The scenery is gorgeous—mossy maples, golden canopies—almost from the gun.  It isn’t going to get any prettier, so don’t hurry through these early miles to get to the mythical good stuff.   I recommend riding in the morning if possible, so the sun backlights the trees on your R.

The road surface is excellent, and made better by the fact that new shoulder strips have recently (summer 2016) been added on both sides of the road, and this new surface makes climbing practically effortless.  On my last ride I met a flagman who told me they were about to repave the road “to make it really nice for you,” but I can’t imagine how it could be better.  He also said they were going to be adding guardrails, which might impair the road’s sense of intimacy a tad.

In 3.6 miles you reach the unfortunately named Green Peter Dam and Lake.  The view of the lake from the dam is usually quite striking.  Take it in, because hereafter it’s not a pretty lake, and you can’t see it very well anyway.  You’re here for the road and the forest, not the water views.

In about 10 miles (about where you cross on the obvious but unsigned Rocky Top Road bridge spanning the headwaters of the lake), the creek returns to being a creek and the character of the ride changes.  The scenery is rougher, drier, and rockier.  The land is more open, so for the first time in the ride the road is often in full sun (if it’s sunny).   To my mind, the scenery is now only good, not grand—turn around if you don’t like what you see.  Now the creek is strewn with boulders that form lovely, large swimming holes you should try if it’s hot enough.   The road is now also marked by miniature camp sites in most of the dirt turn-outs, which is a handy thing because water sources are scarce along this route and you may need to beg water from a camper.

In the last miles before my turn-around spot the road stops rolling up and down and does a steady, easy climbing grade you’ll hardly notice until you turn around and discover it’s now a descent.

At 22.2 miles you reach Yellow Bottom (or Yellowbottom), a lovely spot with a rocky beach and swimming hole on one side of the road and developed campground on the other.  I turn around here.  The ride back is close to effortless—just a few easy climbs to break up the long, gentle descents.

I love this ride in sunshine, but it has a different kind of beauty when wet, also wonderful, so I wouldn’t write it off because of rain.  The pitches are never steep enough to cause you any wet-road bike handling concern.

Shortening the ride: The ride begins lush and moist, and gets rockier and drier as it climbs.  Pick your foliage.

Adding Miles: Keep riding up Quartzville Road past Yellowbottom and do the Beyond Yellowbottom ride.

The miles to the south and west of Sunnyside Park are also very good—classic farm and foothill riding.  Don’t follow Quartzville Drive to Hwy 20; instead, take the almost-immediate R off Quartzville onto N. River Drive and follow it along the north side of pretty Foster Lake.  From Sunnyside Park to Sweet Home this way adds 8 miles (one way) of very pleasant riding.

Afterthoughts: I know of no guaranteed water sources between Sunnyside Park and Yellow Bottom, but there are frequent bathrooms—at campgrounds, at Green Peter Dam, and at road intersections for some reason.

Distance: 44 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 4100 ft

(A Best of the Best ride)

This is one of the Oregon rides that is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

This ride is the greatest climb and descent in Oregon.  ‘Nuff said.  And in addition, you get class-A Oregon forest and an enormous lava “moonscape” you’ll never forget.

Others seem to find this climb harder than I do.  The defunct Lane County Bicycle Map, which I love, had a place along this route marked with 3 chevrons (hardest pitch).  Baloney.  I promise you the pitch on this climb is consistently mellow (when it isn’t downright easy).  RidewithGPS gets it right (but inexplicably says most of the climb is unpaved).

(The RWGPS map shows half of the route as unpaved.  This is untrue—it’s all excellent pavement.)

This out-and-back starts at the intersection of Highways 126 and 242.  If you approach the ride from the Eugene side, as I always do, you’ll find that the terrible fire of 2022 burned most of the McKenzie River valley in the miles before the Hwy 242 turn-off, and you’ll fear for our ride, but the burn stops a few miles before the turn-off and the forests of 242 are untouched except for the very last mile or two before the lava fields.

Park at the intersection of Hwy 126 and 242.  There’s a nice paved turn-out at the beginning of 242 for that purpose.  Climb Hwy 242 (The McKenzie Highway) to McKenzie Pass and return.  It’s a long but consistently moderate climb, not a foot of it hard, followed by a descent that’s beyond words.  If you don’t like out-and-backs it’s possible to ride the Pass from end to end one way, and I’ll discuss how later, but it’s less good that way, because the east side of the summit is boring compared to the west side, both climbing and descending.

Morning light through the lower forest

I suggest you do this ride in the summer or fall, in sunshine.  The road is gated off to cars and impassable in winter.  Then it’s open to bikes only for a few weeks in the spring.  Some riders love that, but typically the road is a wet black ribbon between tall banks of snow at that time and I would think the views would be about as exciting as a bureaucratic hallway, which is a terrible thing to have to look at as you freeze to death.  For me, much of the delight of the ride comes from sunlight through leaves.  Summer is hot, however—it can be 90 degrees at the summit—so I suggest you start early in the day.  About 8 am seems ideal.  Once I started at 7 AM and the light was disappointing, the sun too low to illuminate anything.  Even though this road is a magnet for tourists and motorcyclists, I’ve always had it to myself until around 11 AM.  Last time I started at 8 am (in August) and saw 2 cars in the first hour.

The first five miles of the ride are easy climbing through the typical spectacular Oregon rain forest—ferns, canopies, sun backlighting mossy maples.  You’ll see lots of signs that you’re very welcome: “Share the road,” “Scenic Bikeway,” “Bikes may use full lane,” and (new to me) “Bikes stay to right of centerline”!  You’re not in Kansas, or California, any more.

Five or so miles in, the pitch steepens a bit, to around 5-7%, and stays right there for 9 miles. It’s never hard, but there’s a lot of it, so pace yourself.  Though the pitch is monotonous, the road contour never fails to reward, constantly re-inventing itself as it meanders back and forth.  Nine miles into the ride you pass a big turn-out/parking lot for the Proxy Falls trail head.  The first of 2 falls is about 1/2 mile down the trail, just a bit too far for walking in cycling shoes, and it’s beautiful, so you might bring some sandals and do the hike on the way up or down.  The forest is unbroken—you’ll see only one break in the trees, an unlikely little “meadow,” and there’s an info board explaining how it got there—interesting (disease control).

As you rise, the landscape begins to dry out and the forest changes—wet undergrowth (ferns) is replaced by drier plant life (fireweed).     Eventually the maples disappear entirely.  When the trees drop below you and you start getting vistas, you know the end of the big climb is near.

Two of the Three Sisters behind the lava bed

When the climbing eases off, the next/last 8 miles are mostly untaxing rollers working their way gradually upward to the summit.  You’ll gain about 700 ft in those last 8 miles, most of it in one distressingly long pitch that catches you off-guard.  At first you ride through the burn, then a few miles of ordinary conifer forest.  Then you enter the lava flow, the reason most of the cars are up here.  The word “moonscape” comes to everyone’s mind.  The area around the summit is an ocean of ancient, black lava, sprinkled with gnarly trees bravely growing in it, or having tried to grow in it and failed.   Their dead trunks and broken limbs are irresistibly reminiscent of skeletons and bones.

Ridiculously fun descending

At 22 miles, the turn-around point, you reach the Pass (there’s a summit sign to have your photo taken under) and the inimitable Dee Wright Observatory.  It’s for observing the lava, not the stars, an old queer building made entirely out of the local lava rock.  From its top you can see the Sisters mountains, Mt. Hood, Mt. Hamilton, and a dozen other points of interest, all identified for you by a large brass compass.

The ride back begins with one little pitch.  That’s the last significant climbing you do in the return 22 miles.  The descent is simply astonishing (after you re-ride the 8 miles of plateau), a perfect 14 miles of serpentining, banked curves on a pitch that ranges from mellow to exhilarating, all on a glassy road surface with good sight lines, with all the dangerous curves clearly marked by speed limit signs (when it says “20” you know you need to slow to 25, and so on).  No two corners are alike.  Every 1/4 mile is a new experience.  There will be some traffic (6-10 cars), but they won’t pass you, because you can ride this road faster than they can drive it.  I actually had a car pull over and wave me on because I was going faster than it was.  How often does that happen?

Park your bike and walk out into this stuff

Oh, and the scenery—what was a pristine new dawn on your ride up will now be a golden fire on the way down.  It’s none of my business, but I strongly believe in getting off the bike in forest like this, walking 50 feet into it, and just sitting for a few minutes, to drink it in.  Imagine what the pioneers thought when they encountered it.  Imagine carving out a homestead from it.

Is it the best descent in Bestrides.org?  Of the descents called “best” on the Best Of the Best page, Tunitas Creek Rd is the least stunning visually and most traffic-free.   McKenzie, Tunitas Creek, and Ebbetts Pass are all long.  McKenzie is the lushest.  Ebbetts is the fastest.  Do them all and tell me which you prefer.

A cathedral moment

If you are determined to through-ride the pass (which almost everyone does), you can ride it west to east or east to west.  If you go west to east, you end up in Sisters, an oddly famous upscale tourist town (think, high-end women’s fashions and rodeo instead of trinket shops) that’s worth a stroll.  But then you have to get back.  Riding there and back makes for a long day, but it’s possible, since the climb up from Sisters is mild.  If you want to go east to west, McKenzie River Mountain Resort will shuttle you from the resort (15 miles west of the west end of our ride) to Sisters, whence you can ride back to the resort, or drop your car at the start of Hwy 242.  The climb from Sisters to the summit is half as hard as the climb from the west side, so start in Sisters if your goal is to avoid climbing.  But the insurmountable downside to through-riding is that the road between Sisters and the summit, ascending or descending, just isn’t in the same ballpark as the west side.  It’s OK—that’s all.   So by through-riding you miss either the great ascent or the great descent.  Which is why I do the ride as an out-and-back.

And how does this ride compare to the Aufderheide ride just a stone’s throw down the road?  Both are fairly long, steady, moderate climbs with roughly equal workloads.  Both are drop-dead gorgeous.  Aufderheide is lusher and wetter (though the fact that I did it last in a light rain might have something to do with that).  The terrain of McKenzie is much more varied, from fern forest to moonscape.  Aufderheide is much straighter, so the ride up is more monotonous and the descent is faster and much less interesting.

There are bathrooms at a couple of developed turn-outs along the climb and at the Observatory.  There is no water anywhere.  You can beg water from RV’s at the turn-around.

Shortening the route: Ride to the start of the plateau and turn around (12.5 mi one way).  You can save a little time (but hardly any effort) by skipping the first 4 miles of the route, which are flatter (therefore less thrilling to descend). At 14.2 miles you reach a kind of leveling off with a large dirt turn-around/parking lot on the R.  It’s tempting to turn around here, but don’t, because if you ride for half mile or so to the actual plateau you’ll get a superb stretch of descending when you turn around.  You’ll  know the climb is over when you see badly burned trees.

Adding Miles: At your starting point, Hwy 126 is pretty, but it’s big, straight, and unvarying in pitch, and very busy with a big shoulder for bikes.  People descend it all the time, but I wouldn’t.  In fact, a standard big ride for Bend cyclists, and a stage in the Cascade Classic stage race, is to do the loop from Sisters to the Santiam Pass (Hwy 20), down 126 to the McKenzie Highway, and up McKenzie back to Sisters, but I’m not recommending it because Hwy 20 is the worst sort of big-road monotonous bleak.

Obviously you can continue on from the summit to Sisters, and obviously I don’t recommend it.

The Aufderheide ride is a few miles down Hwy 126.

Distance:  37 miles one way
Elevation gain: 1950 ft

This ride is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

You can ride from Siletz Bay to Newport along the coast, and it’s nice, but it is Hwy 101 (busy), so I prefer this inland route.  It’s never high drama—it’s easy, mellow riding through lovely, unpopulated riparian woods and the road contour is utterly charming, constantly weaving and rising and dipping gracefully.  It’s basically flat, a rarity in Bestrides.  In addition to a lot of pretty woods, you get one very small village (Siletz), the outskirts of one mill town (Toledo), a flat ride along a classic Oregon coastal river, the pleasure of watching Newport, your final destination, grow on the horizon, and a final landing in Newport’s Old Wharf district.

Begin in Kernville at the intersection of Hwy 101 and Hwy 229 at Siletz Bay.  Ride Hwy 229 to Toledo, then Yaquina Bay Road to its end when it drops you at the old wharf district of Newport.  The best part of the ride is the first 14 miles, from Hwy 101 to Siletz.  The hamlet of Siletz is little more than a cafe, the Little Chief Restaurant, but it’s a friendly outpost.  Siletz to Toledo is a slightly less magical ride—a bit straighter, a bit wider, a bit more open, a bit busier.

Hwy 229 north of Siletz: miles and miles of this

Toledo is a fairly large town, but you skirt almost all of it so traffic is not a problem.  Navigation has two tricky spots.  First, you need to find your way through one hectic intersection where Hwy 229 meets Hwy 20.  Stay on 229 as it goes straight across the very large and busy 20, which crosses your path at a 45-degree angle.  When 229 ends at a T in less than 1/10 mile, go L onto Business 20.  It’s a good idea to look at Google Maps to see how this works.  Second, 0.8 miles down Business 20 comes the R turn onto Yaquina Bay Road, which is easy to miss—the road is obvious enough, but I couldn’t find a sign, so watch your odometer.

Yaquina River Road

From Toledo to Newport (Yaquina Bay Road) is new and fascinating terrain.  You’re riding along a once-busy working river, with lumber mills, rotting landings, marshes, shore birds, and boats.  As you leave Toledo on YBR, note the huge mill across the river over your L shoulder.  In the final miles you can see Newport far in the distance, like Oz, as you wend your way along the river’s edge.  Finally you arrive at the Old Wharf area, which is as charming/funky as Old Wharf areas tend to be, packed with marinas, fish markets, and good restaurants.

Shortening miles: There is no cut-off road by which to make a shorter loop out of the route. If you want a shorter day, you have a hard choice.  My favorite legs of the ride are at the two ends, from Kernville to Siletz, and from Toledo to Newport.  Either would make a good out-and-back.

Adding miles: You may have to, if you can’t find a shuttle.  The obvious route back to your car is Hwy 101 along the coast, with several small towns and the usual grand coastal scenery.

Afterthoughts: I’m riding in the opposite direction of Moore’s ride log, if you’re using his book, but the ride works just as well in either direction.  If you’re going to do the Hwy 101 leg, you might want to ride my route heading north so the return ride along the coast has you in the west lane, closer to the water, and any wind will be helping.

Distance:  33 miles one way
Elevation gain: 2560 ft 

This ride is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

The Oregon coast is a legendary destination for touring cyclists, and it’s certainly leaps and bounds better than California’s coast—fewer cars, kinder motorists, far more towns for R and R and refueling, and only slightly less spectacular scenery.  But I’m not nuts about it.  Notice I only have two rides that explore it, and the other (Gold Beach Century) does it as much out of necessity as out of choice.  Perhaps it’s because I did my north coastal riding on the July 4th holiday, and the place was a zoo.  This is the best ride on the Oregon coast and is well worth doing, in large part because here Hwy 101 goes inland and the coastal riding is on smaller secondary roads.  The rewards keep on coming—four charming coastal towns, grand bays, a lighthouse, miles of deserted beaches, grand ocean vistas, and one delightful hike.

The route you want to ride is slightly different than what is mapped, for reasons that will be made clear below.

My favorite part of the ride is the first 10 miles, from Tillamook to Short Beach. Begin in Tillamook and head west on 3rd St.  Take a R onto Bayocean Rd. and roll along the very edge of Tillamook Bay.  It’s lovely and car-free out there.  Be sure to stop and read the large sign on your R headlined “City of Bay Ocean Park,” detailing the quirky history of the community once built on the spit crossing the bay.

Meares Beach: worth the detour

Just past the spit there’s an intersection.   The road straight ahead changes its name to Meares Avenue NW and the road on the L is Cape Meares Loop.  Even though I haven’t mapped it, go straight at the intersection, leaving the main road, and continue west to the tiny beach community of Cape Meares.  Ride as far west as you can, then walk the 50 ft to the beach.  White sand, lovely surf, and no people.  Enjoy.

Return to your bike, return to the intersection and go R onto Cape Meares Loop.  CML was closed for 10 years by a slide and has just (11/23) reopened, but RWGPS hasn’t caught up to the reopening so it won’t let me map the leg.  So from here to Short Beach ignore my mapping (which is an alternate route marked as “unknown surface” by RWGPS) and stay on CML.  It’s a dreamy stretch of road, with a short, brisk climb (up to 12%) and descent .

Midway along Cape Meares Loop you pass Lighthouse Drive on the R.  I haven’t mapped it, but take it for a short jaunt to Cape Meares Scenic Viewpoint, from which you can take short, easy paved walks to the lighthouse and the Octopus Tree.   Return to CML and ride to Short Beach.

Anderson’s Viewpoint overlooking Netarts Bay spit

The rest of the ride is an easy ramble down the coast, during which you will experience several small communities worth hanging out in—Short Beach, Oceanside, Netarts, and Pacific City—one killer vista point (Anderson’s Viewpoint at about mile 22.  Watch for it over your R shoulder—it’s just an unsigned dirt turn-out), one nice climb (up and over the Cape Lookout ridge), and lots of views along two shallow bays.

As you leave the coast to climb over the Cape Lookout ridge, you’ll pass the prominent Cape Lookout Trailhead on your R.  From this trailhead a beautiful hiking trail heads out to the cape itself.  It’s 5.2 miles round trip, all gentle downhill going out, gentle uphill coming back, through rare and magnificent old-growth Sitka Spruce to a spectacular ocean overlook.  By no means do you need to walk all of it.  Even a short jaunt takes you into a very special and spiritual place.

Climbing over the Cape Lookout ridge

The entire bike route is easy to follow—just stay as close to the ocean as you can.  I got lost once.  Leaving Netarts, I took my eye off the map and missed the R onto Netart’s Bay Drive.  If you do that, you’ll stay on Hwy 131 and climb an unnecessary hill to an inland intersection signed “Cape Lookout State Park” to the R.  Follow that R back to the coast and your route.   This is also the route you’ll take if you opt for Short Ride Version #2 in Shortening the Route just below.

Getting back to your car/Shortening the route: You could ride this as a long out and back, and it would all be worth seeing twice.  Or you can ride it one way, then jump on the bus that runs from Lincoln City to Pacific City to Tillamook (there’s a bike rack)—see Kevin’s comment below for details.  Or you could loop back on Hwy 101 from Pacific City to Tillamook, which would be 25 miles of trafficky shoulder riding (I haven’t done it and wouldn’t dream of doing it).  Or there are three shorter versions of the route: 1) ride the miles from Tillamook to Short Beach as a plumb 24-mile out and back;  2) stay on Hwy 131 through Netarts and following it east, then north as it loops back to Bayocean Road near where you started; or 3)  take Sandlake Rd. east from Cape Lookout Rd to Hwy 101 and heading north to Tillamook, making a loop of roughly 40 miles.  This leaves you with only about 10 miles of Hwy 101.

Adding miles: besides riding 101 back to Tillamook and the cut-off roads we’ve already discussed, the only option open to you is to continue south on 101.  Some riders keep going until they hit Mexico.

Distance:  66 miles one way
Elevation gain: 3440 ft 

This ride is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

For the first 63 miles, this is not a dramatic ride.  It is instead a perfectly pleasant, easy meander through nearly-flat, charming farm country—little wilderness here, few deep, solitary woods.  It’s on a numbered state highway, which is usually a no-no for Bestrides, but it’s a remarkably untrafficked one.  I did this ride on a sort of recovery day, and I found it to be magically mellow.  Rarely have I been so glad to be on a bike.  After 63 miles, the road begins to roll, then enters the city of Astoria, and finally ascends steeply to a dramatic finale at the very summit of the city, the Astoria Column and its stunning vistas of the surrounding land and water.

Begin in downtown Vernonia, a town whose name is so hard to remember that I’ve seen official Oregon state highway signs that call it “Veronica.”  Ride east on the main street, which is also Hwy 47.  Turn L immediately out of town to stay on Hwy 47 (towards Mist).  The next 40 or so miles are effortless bucolic rolling.  At the well-signed intersection in downtown Mist don’t take the R curve that would keep you on Hwy 47; go L onto Hwy 202 (sign reads “Astoria 47”).  At around 38 miles comes the only noticeable climb in the route before the very end, a three-mile ascent that is enough of an effort to give you a nice change from all that level.  

Miles and miles of this

Do the unspectacular descent from the obvious summit and watch for Olney Cut-Off Rd. on your L.  I don’t think it’s signed exactly that way, but with a map and the available signage you’ll know when you’re there.  Now you have to make a choice.  If you’re tired and you want the mellowness to continue, stay on Hwy 202 to Astoria.  If you’ve got some legs left, take Olney Cut-Off and stay on it as it becomes Youngs River Rd.  This back route (which is my Mapmyride map route and Moore’s route)  is pretty and interesting, but it involves you in about 10 miles of demanding short rollers that will finish you off if you’re near the end of your energy.  To make matters worse, the prevailing winds in the area are in your face and can be intense, so factor that into your decision.  

Astoria Column: your destination

Ride on Youngs River Rd. to its end and navigate two apparent but unsigned turns: 1) at the end of Youngs River Rd., your road takes a very sharp 90-degree L and the road becomes (says the map) Warrenton-Astoria Hwy.  You don’t need to know this, since the road gives you little choice, but Moore tells you to take Warrenton-Astoria, so if you’re following his ride log it’s confusing.  Warrenton-Astoria lasts about 1/10 mile, then intersects with a very large, busy highway you can’t miss.  This is US 101 Business Route, and you can go in two directions, straight ahead and R.  Go R (north) and Astoria is a short ride on a causeway across the bay.  There is a lot of signage at the 101 intersection, but none of it is what you need to know, which is that Astoria is thataway—it’s so close you can see it.  If you get confused and go straight (going west on US 101), you make a 10-mile clockwise loop and come into Astoria from the west instead of the south.

View from the Astoria Column: Saddle Mt. and points south

Once in Astoria, find your way to the Astoria Column.  It’s a quirky, amazing monument atop the highest point in town, and the views in all directions are delicious.  Take some time to ponder the historical figures that cover the monument itself.  

There are many routes to the Column through town, and they’re all killer steep.  You will hurt.  Do it anyway.  Our RWGPS map shows you one way.  Our Mapmyride map leaves you on your own.  There are signs everywhere pointing you to the Column, and anyone can direct you.  Just keep going up. 

Shortening the route: this ride isn’t hard (Moore rates it “challenging,” but I don’t know why).  Still, it’s pretty long, so riding it as an out-and-back would be a very long day.  If you haven’t got a shuttle and want to shorten it, the drama and the work is in the second half—the climb, the descent, the Column.  The first half is uninterrupted mellow rambling.

Adding miles: Vernonia is the northern terminus of the Banks-Vernonia Trail, a paved rail-to-trail conversion.  Normally I don’t like riding road bikes on paved trails, but I drove along this one to get to Vernonia and the woods looked utterly sublime.  For the scenery alone, I’d give it a try.

Afterthoughts: despite the fact that you’re riding through inhabited country on nearly every mile of this ride, there are next to no formal places to resupply.  I had to knock on a farmer’s door and ask for water.  There is a county park at mile 48 with bathrooms and (I think) water, and the imaginary town of Birkenfeld has the Birkenfeld Country Store (self-titled “The Birk”), but it was inexplicably closed when I came through on a lovely June afternoon.

Distance:  22 miles out and back
Elevation gain: 1730 ft 

This ride is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

This is one of the few rides in Bestrides that isn’t primarily about the riding.  Oh, the riding is fine—pleasant miles along a pretty river followed by a sweet climb through a pretty forest.  But the jewel in the crown is Sweet Creek Trail and its many waterfalls.  So bring a bike lock and walking shoes.

Begin in the tiny town of Mapleton, which is a short row of shops at the intersection of Highways 126 and 36.  Ride up Hwy 126 a stone’s throw and turn R onto Sweet Creek Road.  Ride the aforesaid pleasant 4.5 miles along the Siuslaw River.  This isn’t wilderness—the river is dotted with fairly elaborate vacation homes.  Turn L onto what appears to be a new road but is in fact the continuation of Sweet Creek Rd., and leave all signs of civilization behind.  Ride to the end of the pavement (see the reader comments below about how I’m wrong about that), climbing steadily through standard Oregon woods.  Turn around and ride back.  The road surface coarsens near the turn-around point, so the first stretch of the descent is jarring.  The rest of the descent is smooth.

Usual Oregonian gorgeousness along Sweet Creek Road

But before you ride back: you’ve really come to hike the short, spectacularly beautiful stretch of Sweet Creek along the last leg of the ride.  This is one of the sweetest little hikes I’ve ever done.  In thirty minutes of easy walking you’ll walk past several falls and cascades of peerless beauty.   Take your camera.  If you really hate hiking on a ride (and I do), the first 1/4 mile of trail will yield some of the trail’s best views.

Sweet Creek

Moore’s instructions for finding the trailhead left me confused.  There are in fact three trailheads along the creek: in the order in which you’ll encounter them, they’re Homestead, Sweet Creek Falls, and Wagon Road, all signed.   You want the first one, because you want to encounter the falls walking upstream.  Hike until the trail turns L, climbs, and leaves the creek at an impassible falls, then hike back.  If you start at Sweet Water Falls TH and hike upstream, you’ll miss the prettiest water.  Here’s a map to guide you.

When you get back to your car, don’t leave without checking out Mapleton.  It’s my favorite teeny town in Oregon.  It has about six shops, and many are worth a visit.  All Mapletonians seem delighted you’re there.  The general store is a classic—it has one of everything, and sells real food and ice cream.  A few doors down is a store specializing in vinyl records (remember them?) from the 60’s and 70’s, and the memorabilia that goes with them.   Talking to the owner may well be the high point of your ride.

Shortening the ride: Ride to the first trail head; hike; ride back.  You could skip the flat miles along the Siuslaw, but you wouldn’t be saving any work.   

Sweet Creek

Adding miles: If you’re up for riding dirt, you can keep riding up Sweet Creek Road and after many miles come out on the Smith River at a point midway through our Gardiner to Eugene ride (I think there’s even a mileage marker that says Reedsport X miles ahead before our turn-around point), and I’m sure it would be a great adventure.  I haven’t done it.

4.5 miles up Sweet Creek Rd. from where it leaves the Siuslaw, Road 24 takes off to the R.  It’s a small paved back road you can ride all the way to Siltcoos Lake and Hwy 101.  It turns into Road 945, which some maps call Maple Creek Rd.  It has one mile of very steep climbing going west and a similar mile or so coming back.  It’s on my to-do list. You could loop it by riding it westward and returning on Hwy 126, but see my slam of Hwy 126 below.  At least you’d have a tailwind.

Highway 36 north of Mapleton looked nice, though I didn’t ride it, and it goes nowhere in particular so it shouldn’t be trafficky.

Moore begins his route with 14 miles of riding on Hwy 126, from Florence to Mapleton.  I wouldn’t ride this road on a bet.  It’s classic flat, high-traffic, high-speed highway shoulder riding.  To cap it off, if you begin in Florence you’ll end the ride with 14 miles of riding back to Florence into the teeth of a strong headwind if weather conditions are normal.  

Distance:  12.3 miles one way
Elevation gain: 2600 ft 

This ride is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

East Lolo Pass Road is a chestnut Oregon ride, a twelve-mile out-and-back climb up a wide, clear-cut valley dominated by a huge rack of power lines.  I don’t like it.  But the back road that parallels it, FR 1828, is sublime—8.5 miles of the densest, most magical woods I found in Oregon (but not giant conifers—see photos).  And one grand glimpse of Mt. Hood.  It has a lot of vertical gain—RWGPS says you’ll gain 2600 ft, over twice our climbing benchmark of 100 ft/mile, and touch 17%—so you will work.

Carry a map on this ride or a vivid memory of one in your head.  You have three turns to negotiate, and all are apparent but totally unsigned.  Park where E. Lolo Pass Road crosses the Sandy River and head up ELPR through classic Oregon vacation cabin country.  Go R on Muddy Fork Rd. at 3.3 miles (turn #1).  When Muddy Fork Rd. turns R to cross the creek, don’t make the turn—take the unsigned one-lane road L (almost continuing straight on, but we’ll call it turn #2).  That’s FR 1828.  It has no other name.

Typical 1828 canopy

FR 1828 immediately begins to climb, and will climb vigorously—some might say dauntingly—for the next 4 miles.  Overall vert for the ride is 3860 ft, and most of it is in these four miles.  Oregon has few really steep pitches, and this is one of them.  But you won’t mind, because you’ll be gawking at the scenery and marveling at the solitude.  The road is so narrow and primitive you’ll worry it will turn to dirt at any moment.  The canopy is unequaled, and the privacy is near-absolute, since there is no earthly reason why a car would be on this road.   This is truly a magical place.

Nothing’s prettier than these woods

About 1 mile past the obvious summit on Rd 1828 (there’s a “KOM” marked on the road) there is an unmissable Y that Moore’s text and map ignores (turn #3).  The R fork goes slightly up and the L fork goes more steeply down.  Both roads are about equal in size, and neither direction looks promising.  Go L and trust.  The road surface will deteriorate, adding to your fear that you’ve gone the wrong way.   Ride the last, relatively flat, miles to the end of the road, dead-ending at E. Lolo Pass Rd., also (incredibly) unmarked.

My route ends here, because there is no Bestrides-worthy route back.  FR 1828 has such a broken surface that descending is a daunting prospect unless you’re on a mountain bike.   The descent on E. Lolo Pass Rd. is a classic example of long, featureless, straight bombing through merely OK scenery, but I guess it’s your best alternative.  There are splendid views of Mt. Hood over your L shoulder and an easily-spotted waterfall on your R that’s worth a stop and/or hike, but that’s it.  The descent also has its spots of problematic road surface.

By the way, Moore warns of a stretch of gravel at mile 20.5 on his route.  It’s there, it’s not a big deal, but it’s hard to see coming because you’re in heavy dappled shade, and for me it came a mile later.  He also warns of a spot with a stop sign, a washout, and a one-lane section, all of which aren’t there any more.

Mount Hood and a break in the canopy on FR 1828

Adding Miles: Moore recom- mends E. Barlow Trail Rd., which leaves E. Lolo Pass Rd. to the L a stone’s throw uphill from our starting point.

Distance:  46-mile loop
Elevation gain:  5010 ft 

(A Best of the Best ride)
(A Best of the Best descent (on Hwy 66))

This is one of the Oregon rides that is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

This ride is an approximate square.  Each of the 4 sides is a different kind of riding.  Three sides are great, and the fourth is a pleasant warm-up.   The four sides are 1) 7 miles of gentle shoulder riding through pleasant farmland, 2) 7 miles of uninterrupted climbing up a dramatic canyon, 3) a rambling, rolling saunter through rich forests, past meadows, and along lake shores, and finally 4) a breath-taking, supersonic 14-mile descent.  You also get two resorts, one charming inn, one pretty lake, one semi-pretty lake, and the likelihood of eagles.  Dead Indian Road is actually only about a third of the ride, but it’s a much more energetic name than “Highway 66,” which is our other choice, so let’s go with that.

You can ride this route in either direction, but the experience is very different.  Hwy 66 ascending is a pleasant, varied, moderately steep serpentine.  Descending, it’s a Best of the Best ride, a splendid romp through tight corners, fast esses, and ripping lazy turns.  Dead Indian is mostly straight and unvaried, a blazingly fast rocket sled on the descent and a boring slog as a climb.  So I prefer the counterclockwise loop, and in fact I usually ride up Hwy 66 to the Green Springs Inn and turn around.  But it all depends on what sort of descending you like.

The weather at the top of this loop is much colder than at the bottom—expect at least a 10-degree drop—so take a layer more than you think you’ll need.  I once did this ride during a cool spell in the middle of June.  I dressed for summer, it was 48 degrees at the lakes, and I froze.

You can start anywhere on the loop, but I’m starting you at the intersection of Dead Indian Rd and Hwy 66 (Green Springs Highway), because you’ll get about 7 miles of gentle rollers to warm up on.  Head south on Hwy 66.  This is outskirts-of-town farm country, pretty to the eye, but the road is always busy and you’re on the shoulder, so it’s not great.  Most of it is, however, a lovely shoulder, wide and smooth.

Hwy 66

Shortly after the Old Siskiyou Hwy turn-off, you dump almost all of the traffic and start to climb, and you climb without interruption for about 7 miles.  The climb is always 5-7%, so you work but you don’t suffer (2200 ft in 7 miles), and the scenery is grand, open, and varied, and the road, while constant of pitch, is always serpentining and giving you different looks.  It’s one of the prettiest roads I know, a series of curves as lovely as a Japanese ink drawing.  If you look west across the valley after you gain some altitude you can clearly see Hwy 5 making its long descent into Ashland.

Hwy 66, looking back at Ashland after the first miles of the climb (typical summer forest fire smoke)—click on photo to see the road

At the end of the climb you reach the obvious summit signed “Summit Green Springs Mountain,” and at the precise summit Old Hyatt Prairie Rd. takes off on your L.  Don’t be tempted to take it, unless you want to ride a 10-mile dirt road that intersects our route later.  The road we want is E. Hyatt Lake Rd., the next paved road to the L. about 3 miles further along.  Finding it is made more complicated by the fact that some maps call our road “Hyatt Prairie Rd.,” which it later becomes, and the fact that our road has no road-name sign at the intersection.  In fact there are no road-name signs between Hwy 66 and Dead Indian Rd., so you have to follow directional signs, following signs first to Hyatt Lake, then to Howard Prairie Lake, then to Dead Indian Road, through a couple of questionable intersections.  Just keep along the western shore of both lakes.

Because the turn off Hwy 66 is sketchy, look for a large colorful sign reading “Hyatt—Howard Prairie Recreational Area” on the L and the unmissable Green Springs Inn on the R.   Consider checking out the Inn.  It’s quite a place (note the free re-supply depot for PCT hikers).  The pies are legendary, and the cinnamon buns are the size of hubcaps.

Tub Springs: worth the added 3 miles

In the old days, Before one turned down E. Hyatt Lake Road, one stayed on Hwy 66 for another 1.5 miles and visiting Tub Springs, a tiny State Park consisting of three stone troughs with the best spring water in Oregon.  People drove hundreds of miles to fill up the back of their station wagon with 5-gallon jugs of the stuff.  But the water quality has been condemned, and the site is now open for viewing only—moderately interesting but not the unmissable treat it once was.

Hwy 66 at early morning

The miles from Hwy 66 to Dead Indian Rd. are a lovely break from the drama that precedes and follows them—easy, sweet meandering through lush conifer forests and grassy meadows.  You do 3 miles of very low-key climbing to Hyatt Reservoir, then ride along the reservoir’s edge, with constant pleasant views of the water, which is not the most beautiful lake in the world but is OK.  Hyatt is reportedly a haven for bald eagles and ospreys, though I never see any—there’s a turn-out with informative plaques about the birds just past Hyatt Lake Resort.   Then it’s on to Howard Prairie Lake, which you can only barely glimpse from the main road and which you could easily not know is there unless you take the 1/4-mile road to Howard Prairie Resort.  Which I encourage you to do, because HPR has much to offer: splendid bathrooms (with soap and showers, in case you want to freshen up mid-ride), a developed marina, nice picnic tables overlooking the lake (much more scenic than Hyatt), and a snazzy glass-and-stone central building.

Mt. McGloughlin behind Howard’s Prairie Lake meadows

Soon after you clear Howard Prairie Lake you dead-end into Dead Indian Rd. and turn L.   Thinking all the climbing is over, you quickly hit a 3.8-mile climb, a shallow, tedious grind to an obvious summit at the sno-park.  If you know it’s coming, it’s merely a pain in the ass; if you don’t, it can be soul-crushing.

Now it’s all down.  The descent down Dead Indian Rd. is spectacular, a masterpiece of wide-open, high-speed descending, with big sweeping curves that rarely force you to drop below 35-40, and it goes on and on until your hands are cramping and your neck is aching from being in the drops.  It’s the best of that sort of descent I know.  If you love fast descents, do this ride.

Dead Indian Road: smooth, straight, and fast

This route offers you three places to resupply: Green Springs Inn, Hyatt Lake Resort, and Howard Prairie Resort—IF you’re late enough in the season for them to be open.   Many resorts in Oregon don’t really open until July.  Call ahead.  I think Green Springs is year-round.

Shortening the route: Ride to Green Springs Inn and turn around.  Riding Dead Indian as an out-and-back is an option, but I consider the climb a mind-numbing slog.

Adding Miles: About 8 miles into our route you pass the start of our Old Siskiyou Highway ride.

Our route has you riding about half of Dead Indian Rd.  You can turn R instead of L when you intersect it and ride the other half, up to Lake of the Woods, and turn around.  Not that I’m recommending it.

You’re about a half hour by car from a good ride from the charming faux village of Jacksonville to Applegate Lake, detailed in Moore’s book.  On this ride you can spend time on Applegate Road, Upper Applegate Road, and Little Applegate Road.  I take pleasure in little things like this.  You can take the direct route, which is flat, or the more challenging route up Sterling Creek Rd, which involves a moderate climb and long, almost Bestrides-worthy descent.

Distance:  24 miles out and back
Elevation gain:  3323 ft 

(A Best of the Best descent)

This ride is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

This is a not-hard, not-easy climb and Best-of-the-Best descent through canopied woods and along open hillsides with grand vistas, all on an old highway that sees almost no traffic.  This is extreme Southern Oregon, so you won’t get the ferns and mossy maples of the Oregon rain forest, but the forest is still very pretty.  I love this ride, in both directions.  A perfect life would start every morning with it.   And you’re riding a stretch of old Hwy 99, which when I was a boy was the only route north through the Northern California valley and into Oregon, so there’s an added element of nostalgia if you’re a native of a certain age.

Our map starts at the intersection of Hwy 66 and Old Siskiyou Hwy.  I actually start at the intersection of Dead Indian Hwy and Hwy 66, to give my legs 4+ miles of easy-roller warm-up before the climb, but if you don’t want to there is dirt parking at the base of OSH.  Ride Old Siskiyou until it turns into a Hwy 5 on-ramp. There’s a large dirt turn-out for parking at the intersection.  There is a mile or so of fairly level at the beginning, but if you want to warm up first, Hwy 66 is pretty and mellow in either direction. 

The first 7 miles of Old Siskiyou—to the Hwy 5 underpass—is steady climbing through lovely forest.  The pitch is just under hard—one more degree and you’d have to work, but as it is you just feel like you’re climbing strong today.  The canopy is cathedral, the road serpentines constantly and gracefully, the traffic is nearly non-existent because all the cars are on Old Siskiyou’s replacement, Hwy 5, and the road surface is good.  There’s even a 270-degree turn where you get to cross your route on an overpass—shades of Disneyland’s Autopia.

The first half of Old Siskiyou Highway: in the canopy

The second half of the ride is easier, more open, and big on vistas.  Leaving the Hwy 5 underpass behind, you climb up a short, straight, boring slog, and then the climbing is over.  You’re out of the trees and you’re alone on an wild, rocky sidehill far above the wide ribbon of Hwy 5 visible below you. At the fairly obvious summit you can see far into California to the south.  The best view of Hwy 5 is about 100 yards after you start down the other side—watch for it because it doesn’t last long.

From the summit to the end of the road is 4 miles of stready 25-30-mph, fairly straight downhill.  Given the fact that no car is ever going to be on this road (in the summer), the road surface  is in remarkably good shape, varying from excellent to good to patches of OK.   Turn around before the road sweeps you onto Hwy 5 and ride the 4 miles uphill back to the summit.  This last 8-mile out-and-back is only moderately rewarding, and if you want to ride to the summit (or the good view of Hwy 5) and turn around I won’t think less of you.

As good as the first 7 miles were going up, they’re even better coming down.   The curves are just big enough so that you don’t have to do much slowing and just small enough so that you can ride them hard and feel like a pro, and the pitch is just steep enough that you can get up speed without working and just shallow enough that you don’t have to do a lot of braking.  It’s a Best of the Best descent, a constant 20-30-mph ripper through dappled sunlight.  The road surface isn’t ideal—there are lots of vertical cracks to dodge, so you’re often choosing between the ideal line through the corners and the best pavement—but it’s good.

Shortening the route: Ride to the Hwy 5 underpass and turn around.

Second half of the ride: looking south at California and Hwy 5

Adding miles: The beginning of this route is on the route of the Dead Indian loop ride.

Just beyond the Hwy 5 underpass midway on our route is the turn-off for Mount Ashland Road, a challenging climb to the summit of the area’s tallest peak.

There is a bike path, the Bear Creek Trail, that runs up the valley from Ashland to Medford,  which is sometimes nicely in the thick of the reparian woods and sometimes boringly on the very shoulder of Hwy 5 (Note: the fire that destroyed Talent in Sept. 2020 laid waste to much of the countryside along the bike path).

Distance:  61 miles out and back
Elevation gain:  3490 ft.

This is one of the Oregon rides that is expertly covered in Jim Moore’s 75 Classic Rides Oregon (see the “Oregon” section in Rides by Region).

This is a wonderful ride, and the only reason it isn’t in the Best of the Best list is because it lacks any sort of wow factor: no awesome waterfall, grand vista, dramatic canyon, or awe-inspiring redwoods.  Just really good riding through varied, pretty scenery.

This ride passes through three very different ecosystems, all rewarding.  The first stretch, from Indian Mary County Park to the Rogue River bridge/Grave Cree Bridge, is through the open, rocky Rogue River Canyon, which by the end leaves you clinging to the face of a steep rocky canyon wall.  Very dramatic, very nice.  Lower Graves Creek Rd/Lower Wolf Creek Road, the second leg, is up and down and back and forth, narrower, tighter, through riparian woods and almost car-free.   The third leg takes you on a classic “family” ride through sun-lit forests to the interesting ghost town of Golden.

Two-thirds of this ride (everything except Lower Graves Creek Rd/Lower Wolf Creek Road) is might-as-well-be-flat, and the ride total is a mere 3500 ft.  in 60 miles, but since almost all the climbing is in that 15-mile leg of LGCR/WCR that stretch is a bit of a workout.

The route actually begins in Mary County Park, a short ride before Galice, but I liked the “G to G” alliteration.  Ride west on Galice Rd., with the Rogue River, one of my favorite rivers on the planet, continuously on your R.  In the beginning the ride is no more than very pleasant.  The canyon starts out wide and developed, with plenty of resorts and vacation homes, and then passes through the community of Galice (rhymes with police, not malice), which is little more than a convenience-and-T-shirt store, a resort with cabins, and a large river rafting operation.  This is Oregon river rafting central, so if you’re there on a summer weekend the place is a bit of a madhouse, but you will soon leave it behind.  A mile out of town the buildings stop, the canyon steepens, and the views (of the river below you and the rock wall above) get better and better, until the road unmissably crosses the river on a bridge and the road immediately forks.  These first miles are essentially flat, even though you’re riding down-river.  You’ll share the road with river recreators and rafting companies, but there’s plenty of room and it’s easy to get up earlier than they do.  Most of this leg has an immaculate road surface but unfortunately it’s a moderate chip-seal, nothing like California’s godawful prickly pear but rough enough to jack up the rolling resistance a tad.

After crossing the Rogue River on the unmissable bridge and pausing to watch the rafters navigate the rapids upstream and drift to their pull-out just downstream of you, go R onto Lower Graves Creek Rd, which turns into Lower Wolf Creek Rd in about 9 miles at a noticeable intersection and takes you to the town of Wolf Creek.   Everything is suddenly different. The traffic disappears—I typically see 4-5 vehicles in 30 miles (out and back).  The road surface is good to perfect, the atmosphere is wooded and shady, and the road is constantly serpentining, climbing, descending, never straight and never the same for more than 50 yards.  It’s a joyous contour, road riding at its best.  The woods here are not Oregon’s famous redwood forest primeval—it’s drier than that—but it’s still very pretty.  Don’t plan on getting off the bike and traipsing through the understory—it’s largely poison oak. It’s upstream heading east, so two-thirds of the elevation change is up in this direction, but I don’t notice much difference in the work load either way.

You will do some work.  RidewithGPS says it’s 1950 ft gain in 30 miles (out and back), which doesn’t sound like a lot, but none of it is flat and I guarantee you’ll feel every one of those 1950. Except for two extended climbs, the ups never last long.  Some of the longer descents are outstanding.

The two roads, Lower Graves Creek and Lower Wolf Creek (I have no idea where Upper GCR and WCR are), are noticeably different: Graves is narrower, more up and down, less trafficked (even), more dramatic, and more often along the creek—in other words, better. 90% of the ascending/descending is in the Graves half of the leg.  By comparison, Wolf is a mellow stroll.  But still very nice.

Rogue River canyon

The town of Wolf Creek is tiny but worth a stop.  There’s a classic general store and a wonderful old inn with lots of history and a welcoming attitude toward droppers-by.   It was a stop-over for outdoorsy celebrity types, so there are lots of memorabilia related to famous guests like Clark Gable and Jack London.   Ask about the faked John Wayne photo.

Start of Lower Graves Creek Road: my favorite sign

You might be tempted to skip the few miles between Wolf Creek and the ghost town of Golden, but it’s a lovely stretch of easy, ideal riding through classic sunlit (if the sun is out) woods, and Golden itself is of interest.  Head south out of town on Old Highway 99 (the obvious main street) briefly, take the L that takes you under modern Highway 5, go R immediately on the other side of the underpass onto Coyote Creek Rd, and follow CCR to Golden.

Don’t expect something on the level of Bodie, CA.   There’s not much to Golden.  It’s only a sweet little church, two or three other unprepossessing shacks closed to visitors, and a few historical placards.  Still, it was interesting enough that I drove back on a later date to show it to my wife.  The church is still used for weddings and such.  I was lucky enough to arrive when a family was decorating the church for an approaching wedding, and I’m sure that added to my fondness for the place.

The return ride is easier, a little.  Wolf Creek/Lower Graves is downstream in this direction, but as I said I didn’t notice much difference.  From the Rogue River bridge back to your car is upstream but imperceptibly so—you’ll do no significant work.

You’ll have one tricky intersection to navigate returning.  About 9 miles in from Wolf Creek, the road splits at an unmissable intersection, and the obvious primary road goes L.  Don’t take it—stay R on the apparently secondary road.  There is a clear sign, but unfortunately the sign says that both options are Lower Grave Creek Rd., so that doesn’t help.  Google Maps makes a hash of this: the fork is almost invisible, Grave is indicated as the obvious primary fork, and the L fork is labeled “Archer Mine Rd.,” which the intersection’s signage disputes.  Ignore it.

Shortening the route: There is no best leg of this ride.  The leg to the bridge is dramatic rocky canyon; the leg to Wolf Creek is pretty woods and serpentining road contour; the leg to Golden is easy, sun-struck woods.  Pick a favorite.  For me it’s the Graves Creek/Wolf Creek leg, hands down, and the best part of that is the Graves Creek leg.  But that’s me.

Adding miles: The miles from Merlin to our start at Indian Mary County Park are very pleasant, domesticated Rogue Valley riding.  Bear Camp Rd. (which takes off to the L shortly after our ride begins) to the ocean is a famous bucket-list epic (long, remote, rough, lots of climbing, lots of gravel sections) and only to be undertaken by the adventuresome and well-prepared.  Wikipedia, in its article on Bear Camp Rd., lists names of people who have died on it.

Our Tour de Fronds ride is on the next east-west road to the north.

Lovers of loops might want to ride south from Wolf Creek and come back to Galice from the southeast, but I don’t think it’s possible—I see no alternative to Hwy 5 heading S from Wolf Creek.  Let me know if I’m wrong.

Lower Graves Creek Road