For some people, a warm winter is a super bummer. Namely people who enjoy the outdoors when the temperature drops below freezing and the mountains are covered in white powder. For the rest of us, the unseasonably warm weather has made for some great little adventures.

Enter the Tillamook Baby Loaf.

In the middle of February, our friend Donnie put together a route that would normally have had to wait until May to be passable. Working with Travel Oregon on his Oregon Bikepacking project, his new route passes over the Coast Range in between Highways 6 and 26 on remote and rough logging roads. Everything seemed perfect on paper: the weather would be sunny in the mid 60 and the maps all pointed to a clear passage.

But as with every new jaunt into the Coast Range, things don’t always go as planned…

Donnie and I met up early Saturday morning at the Goose Hollow Max station in Portland. When starting a bike trip to the coast, this station is a great jumping off point. Once you are on the train, make sure you take up all the space allotted for regular bikes and enjoy the ride to Hillsboro.

I borrowed a bike from my friend Joshua, who recently built this 650b+ rig, dubbed the NFD (for National Forest Development). With an 8spd Shimano Alfine, I was a bit nervous about the average gradients in the Coast Range and my known ability to overpack, but we went for it anyway. This bike would prove to be exactly what I have been looking for. I’m happy to say I have one being built right now.

We jumped off the train in Hillsboro and found ourselves enveloped in a dense fog. The ride to Forest Grove is fairly lame, and consists primarily of a large highway littered with garbage and dead animals. Thankfully it’s only 6 miles and is over soon enough.

Pro Tip!

When rolling through Forest Grove, swing by Maggie’s Buns for a hot cup of Stumptown Coffee and giant hot cinnamon rolls right out of the oven. They’re closed on Sundays, but this place will set your entire trip off right.

According to Donnie’s route, we should have had smooth passage to Brown’s Camp after our turn onto dirt in Gales Creek. Our maps showed it was open, but a large man with three Dobermans disagreed. After a solid 1,500ft climb, we reluctantly turned back and came up with a new plan.

Over a couple of corndogs in Glenwood, we decided that the best course of action would be to head north towards Reehers Camp, using our Tillamook State Forest and Benchmark Maps, along with our GPS enabled phones to guide the way. A long climb up Timber Rd would set the stage for the rest of the trip.

Anyone who knows what it’s like to ride in the Coast Range knows what the climbing is like. It’s tough, demanding, constant, and generally offers little in the way of views. This was my first time in this particular section of the range and thanks to clear cutting, we had ample opportunities to gaze off into the distance.

Because our reroute added roughly 20 miles to our day, we didn’t make camp where we had initially intended. As the sun began to fall, we decided to take refuge on a semi-secluded pass. It was not an optimal place, but it offered flowing water and an abundance of dry wood. The wind picked up substantially during the night, which made my Tyvek burrito camping situation less than ideal (read: loud flapping material in my face all night). Camping is an ongoing learning process.

Early the next morning, over a couple cups of coffee and a quick breakfast, we planned our day. We were roughly 15 miles behind schedule, but the sun was out and our collective cares equaled 0. By this point, we had linked up to our original route, but the Coast Range is filled with endless intersections. Successful navigation involves constant map checking and comparing to GPS. Failure to do this at every point will result in needless backtracking and additional climbing.

The road to Tillamook was rough, and involved another million vertical miles of climbing. It was well worth it though; the run in to town along the Kilchis River gave us time to dream about giant burritos and cold beers in town.

After our burritos and a quick stop at the grocery, we started our trek home along the Trask River Rd. We made camp just after the road turns to gravel on a small patch of grass down on the banks of the river. It was pleasant, and the water was flowing swiftly. Being February, all of the dry wood was still damp, and a fire was out of the question. Donnie and I took turns over the period of an hour and eventually gave up. I can’t remember the last time I failed to get a fire going, but I finally accepted defeat and we called it an early night.

The route back to town involves a solid amount of climbing, but is fairly gradual. The road sees a lot of logging traffic, but we were lucky on this day and didn’t see a single person.

We were fortunate to have sunny skies, and mild temps; something we don’t usually see this time of year. Once atop Barney Reservoir, we finally enjoyed the baby loaf of Tillamook White Cheddar that Donnie had been carrying, along with some Olympia Provisions Chorizo Andalucia. Simple pleasures such as these are what turn small bikepacking trips into lasting memories.

This route is a beautiful example of difficult riding right outside our back door. Had we ridden this in May or June we might not have been as beat from the excursion, but in February we were cooked. We limped into Forest Grove and destroyed a couple slices of pizza before heading home via the Max.

If you are looking to tackle this route, do yourself a favor and do not ride a road or cross bike. A rigid mountain bike will help you climb and descend and make difficult miles that much easier. Camping can be a bit of a gamble, so be prepared to hunker down on the side of an exposed and logged out mountain. And be sure to catch a glimpse of the ocean when you’re at the top of Standard Grade Rd!