Oregon Trail Tour 2026

Hail, Columbia, happy land!

Hail, ye heroes, heav'n-born band,

Who fought and bled in freedom's cause

- Joseph Hopkinson, 1789. The official song of the Vice-President of the United States (perhaps we could ask JD Vance to sing along ??)

Pendleton: famous for two things: Pendleton Woolen Mills (we have one of their blankets in our living room) and the Pendleton Round Up, one of the oldest and most prestigious rodeos in the world. Pendleton leans hard into its cowboy heritage; downtown is full of galleries and gear stores. I was surprised that on a chilly May Friday downtown was packed with tourists: live music, farmer's market, jammed sidewalks. I enjoyed my brief exploration and put in a few photos. The vibe felt more like Texas than Oregon.

Today was a transition day, from the inland valleys and mountains to the Columbia River Valley. The forecast called for freshening winds and unsettled afternoon weather, so I was rolling by 6:30, headed west following the Umatilla River, to a highly rated breakfast spot in Echo.

The 25 miles to Echo were delightful. I saw two cars, plus two Union Pacific freights that paralleled my route. The river was down to my left, and time after time I sighted white-tail deer, in groups as large as a dozen. Sadly, they clearly had a lot of experience with hunters, even though I was at least 100 yards away, they took off running as they heard me on the road. No time to get out the camera for a picture, but I admired their grace and agility as they bounded away. I also admired a group of American White Pelicans, presumably fishing for the salmon the Umatilla tribe had helped restore to the river. The café in Echo fulfilled expectations. Great food, friendly staff, busy crew of locals, plus others drawn by a vintage car competition underway in town. I snapped my photos after enjoying my breakfast.

My planned route beyond Echo was through remote country. The wind forecast was fulfilled, by 10am blowing 20mph dead out of the west, right in my face. I recognized my original plan for a hundred mile day was unrealistic, and with a "dial a friend" assist from my partner Sarah, worked through a revised landing spot for a shorter day. I headed straight north for the Columbia instead of the longer cross-country route of the pioneers.

I reached the Columbia at Umatilla (pop. 7000, including 2000 inmates at the local penitentiary), where the Umatilla River that I had followed all morning dumps into the Columbia. Just as I arrived, something else started to dump -- buckets of water from the sky, along with lightning and thunder. That "unsettled weather" had arrived. I looked around for shelter options, saw a couple on a porch, and asked if I could join them. Just as I did, the hail started: pea to marble sized hail. (video)

Trevor and Shelley were a delightful pair. Trevor had been born in Umatilla but had moved to Seattle when he was five. As an adult, he was drawn to move back to his original home (literally, he bought his father's house). And met Shelley there. He works doing maintenance at a nearby French fry factory (I learned that the Columbia Valley produces a huge number of potatoes), while Shelley works in the post office. They had just become grandparents and were clearly thrilled. Trevor also does long-distance solo riding on his motorcycle. He shared a story of how the kindness of a stranger giving him gas when he was empty in the middle of nowhere led him ultimately to Christ. He was clearly repaying some of that with me yesterday.

I asked Trevor if he missed the activities of Seattle, answer was a very hard No! They love their four-acre yard overlooking the Columbia, they both have steady jobs they enjoy. Their families are there. My words: they are living the American dream, like most of the people who I have met along my journey.

My second day along the Columbia brought new Oregon Trail moments. More headwinds, of course, and another fifty mile stretch of interstate riding. But: The marvel of the John Day Dam on the Columbia. The largest herd of goats I have ever seen, at least a hundred of them (video here). Weird three-inch Mormon crickets, which show up in swarms and strip the farmland. A pop-up view of Mount Hood, obviously massive even fifty miles away. Lastly, I got dealt the modern equivalent of the "Broken Axle" card - my tire destroyed by a nail that went up through the bottom and out through the sidewall. Thankfully, I was carrying not only spare tubes, but a brand-new spare tire in my supply bag - problem solved. (I've had exactly two catastrophic tire failures in my life before today, but when I thought about the Oregon Trail, something told me I should bring one along).

I was reflecting that as of tonight I have used 100% of the items that I brought in my two panniers, aside from my final two spare tubes (I brought four, have used two). I've ridden in temperatures from 42 to 92. Wind, rain, hail, blazing sun. All over six days. Just think of the supplies that pioneers had to have to sustain themselves for four months. There's a reason why most players die in the Oregon Trail game. I need to survive two more days.