On June 28, 2025, Joe Miller set out from Lakeview, Oregon, for an 11-day backcountry bicycle tour on the Adventure Route of the Oregon Timber Trail (OTT). 553 miles and 42,400 feet of climbing later, he rode into Hood River, Oregon—battered and beaten, but ecstatic about his experience.
This post wraps up the series by sharing what adventures Hanna, his early ride partner, had after they went separate paths.
Joe Miller is a Board Member of the Oregon Timber Trail Alliance (OTTA), as well as an outdoor advocate and volunteer who has spent the past 30 years exploring the Pacific Northwest backcountry by foot, ski, raft, and bike.
Hanna’s story
Ride Report
If you followed days 1 through 5 of this ride post, you may be wondering what happened with Hanna. After splitting up, we stayed in touch over the next several days over text and eventually reconnected in Portland. I’m happy to report that Hanna and The Kiwi both made it back to the Bay Area in good spirits and in good health. A bit more broken than when she started the ride, but still alive and well.
Hanna…scientist, ceramicist, badass bicyclist, got back onto the route in Sisters after a few days off visiting friends in Bend. Still sporting a hook for a hand, she rode out of town on the buff single track towards Black Butte. Previously, I confirmed with her what she already knew: the sand section behind Hoodoo Butte did indeed suck, and she’d likely be pushing most of it, but she went for it anyway, skinny tires and all.
Her plan was to get through that section and take a few days off to hang out with friends in McKenzie Bridge, a beautiful little town along the McKenzie River, before continuing on to Breitenbush and possibly spending a day or two at the Breitenbush Resort before heading to Hood River. Not being in a hurry, she intended to do the full ride over a month or so, which, if you’re considering this ride, is a great way to maximize the experience and enjoy all the side hustles the ride has to offer.
After the hard climb up the Old Santiam Wagon Road, she hit the sand and was forced off her bike, beginning the long push over to the McKenzie River. It was during that push that an old ankle injury flared up and became worse the more she pushed. There is no easy out on this section, and was forced to continue the push up and over to Big Lake and then on down to the McKenzie River Trailhead on Highway 126.
It’s hard to describe just how difficult it is to push a heavy gravel bike for 15+ miles through deep sand. It’s hot, exposed, has no easy water, and is far from nowhere. But, being the badass she is, and with no other options, she continued the push, and the ankle continued to worsen and become more painful. By the time she made it through and down to the highway, she could barely walk, and her ride was over. Her friends picked her up, and she enjoyed a few days recuperating with them in McKenzie Bridge. For a hot second she considered trying to continue..being a badass is not a choice…but common sense prevailed and she decided to bail and save herself for another day.
It was the right choice; the ride only gets harder, and she would have gotten herself into a worse situation. So, she sent The Kiwi back home and went to Portland to enjoy the rest of her time in Oregon before returning to life in California.
I’m extremely lucky to have connected with her for the first part of the ride. Her cheerfulness is infectious, she’s resilient, cool as a cucumber, and a talented cyclist. She saved me on one memorable occasion. During one of our lunch stops, I was fumbling around with food and gear, and dozens of yellow jackets started buzzing me.
“Umm, Hanna, I’m kinda getting swarmed by yellow jackets here.”
She didn’t say anything and very calmly got up, walked over to take my bike from me, and walked it about 100 feet down the road so I could get myself and my stuff together and get away from the nest that I obviously disturbed. This was after getting stung by a yellowjacket on the first day of the ride, which she promptly disregarded and never mentioned again.
This is typical Hanna. One morning, she apologized for being grouchy, but, in the immortal words of Inigo Montoya, I don’t think that word means what she thinks it means. There are plenty of opportunities for grouchiness on this ride, but I didn’t see any in her. I’m afraid I can’t say the same about myself.
If you do this ride, find a riding buddy like Hanna. Better yet, do this ride with Hanna; you’ll be better off for it.
