Ride Summary

When the Almeda Fires desecrated the town I grew up in, I felt like I needed some semblance of closure. Biking through seemed like the only cathartic way to do it, plus I knew the bike path followed Bear Creek, along much of the burn zone, so it would be a good route to see the damage. I’ll never forget the night of September 9. I couldn’t sleep, I lie awake all night feeling the urge to cry for no reason. Oregon fires put several of my family members on watch, and Bryan’s family already started to prepare evacuations. It didn’t seem to justify my unreast though. But when I finally decided to check Facebook, I saw the post of high school connections and my heart sank. This event hit me more than most, from which I am still not fully recovered. A month later I decided it was safe to visit.

Fall temps, too sunny to see straight.
Smoke covered the skyline like smog.
Everywhere along the path I smelled the strong odor of burning or burnt. It was inescapable and strange, considering the fires passed a month ago.

My heart soared as I rode through the area. Over the years I grew accustomed to the standoff ways of Seattle. Seattle has a way of boxing everything and everybody that doesn't look like a shiny gentrified package of success as homeless and helpless. Southern Oregon doesn’t care. Signs of love, positivity and support could be found everywhere. The town I grew up in was thriving. It hasn’t completely burned the way I’ve been told. I felt so encourage seeing how so much survived. The self preserving me took solace in seeing the places I spent the most time in were fine; the homes of my friends.
The damage cannot be understated. The fire swept from Ashland to Medford, tearing through the space between I-5 and Talent Ave. and 99. While much of this was wild park and bike path, it also spanned miles and miles of small business, industry, and homes. Being along the freeway and Bear Creek flood zones, the fire seemed to take more low income homes than others, but many large and newer homes were taken, along with new homes still under construction.
I passed salvage crew head to toe in Tyvek suits and felt like a disaster tourist; a thing I didn’t want to identify with.
I passed a few women sitting on folding chairs, on what I assumed was their property, just sort of hanging out and talking on the phone.

Remarkably Phoenix and Talent sprouted “bike friendly” roads nearly everywhere. Most roads had a well-signed, brightly painted bike only lane.
The bike path, with the exception of stretched in Medford, didn’t seem touched since I last rode it 3 decades ago.