Peanut Butter Jelly Time!

Sunday 27th
Depoe City - Carl Washburne St. Park
55 miles?

Kyle and I said goodbye to the resort and headed to the beach for some skim boarding. Kyle is really good at it, throwing the board on the receding wave water and then riding it for a good thirty feet before crashing into a wave and flipping into the water. I'm not a big fan though - I'm terrible at board sports and I have an odd fear of falling. Plus the water is cold. La-hoo, Za-her. We also went to some of the lookout places and explored the cliffs and haystacks. We saw a blond bike tourist go by agreed that I need to catch up with her on the road, then marry her.

We had clam chowder in Depoe City and talked baseball and adventuring ideas. Looks like bouldering is the next challenge to dive into. There's falling involved, but no cold water. So I set off, with the back of the bike sign being "skim tubing". I didn't get going until 2. Also, Kyle drove the 4 miles to Depoe City, but I'm not going to be nit-picky about doing the "whole" trip.

It was kind of miserable riding so late, and the comfort of the resort made me a wimp. Still I kept on, and at mile 30 stopped at a pizza place in Waldport. I talked to a British girl for a while. She was riding a big mountain bike with twice as much gear as me, and she was on mile 80. She also mentioned that she did the Great Divide race, an offroad race from Montana to New Mexico (or something like that). Shortly thereafter, my MPH picked up.

I went the whole day without my helmet. I figure this way, they won't have to cut it out of my head.

Cape Perpetua was awesome. You ride above cliffs and look at haystacks out in the water. I hit it at sunset, and the fog had finally risen. I think it was my favorite part so far.

Finally to Carl G Washburne state park, and I met my first bikers - Ryan and Cas. They were teachers from Virginia, doing the same trip, under similar circumstances (first tour, etc.). It was nice to talk to some guys I could relate to. I was just going to put up my tarp for an A-frame because it was getting late, but I saw some Racoons and went for the tent.

Quote of the day: "If you want an Indian feather, you've got to do the dance". - me

Plush

Saturday the 26th
Tillamook to Lincoln City
65 miles

Bo dropped me off at the Union Station in Portland after Voodoo doughnuts and Stumptown Coffee. Can you believe he gave me a hug? Don't tell him I wrote that, I might not ever get another one. I mean, not that I need a hug or want one...

So I picked up my helmet and tent - I'd hid them in the woods. Riding through town I got the first bit of rain, just a misty rain though. I saw three guys putting plastic covers over their panniers (saddle bags) and wondered at the novelty.

Too much information: I let out a st. helens fart that must have twisted my hoses, because my saddle was killing me. That bleu cheezeburger would follow me the rest of the ride, which was unfortunate whenever I couldn't go fast. Breeze please! Taking breaks eased the pain. Cycling is more dangerous than you might think. I'm just hoping this "man-trip" doesn't cut off my "manliness".

My legs loved the day off, they were very fresh. I was cruising at times, into an area with hills, valleys, and farms. A nice lady named Tory gave me some water and a route that bypassed a hill. Whenever I feel like stopping, I make sure to go to coffee shops and ask for directions. Even if I know where I'm going. Too much information?

It's great though, people love to help travellers. I think people have a certain pride in knowing their area and being of use to someone. And it's easy to approach people because you know they want to help. I have a million stranger friends out here.

Into Pacific City, I met someone who must have had a disdain for tourists, or biker shorts. I was seated at a burger shack and came to the counter to say I wanted a small fry. "She'll take your order soon" he said. Man that pissed me off. I thought of leaving. It wasn't like they were buiys, and all he had to do was throw the fries in. It was like a real sit down establishment, it was a beach bum place.

Just then I read some of the drunk hiker's book. Krakeur, the author, talks about how people in isolation become aggressive and irritable. I hope I'm still in the friendly realm. I took a detour onto Old 101 to go through some old-growth forest (Neskowin Creek) and become nicer.

What do you know, but I get a call from my buddy Kyle Seymour, from George Fox. He was at a Ford foundation conference in Lincoln city, at the Salishan Resort! After eating at a great cafe in Otis, I pulled up to my new condo. There had been heavy fog off and on throughout the day, and riding through it produced dewlike drops on my arm hair. That with the bike high and the impressive resort, plus the satisfaction of riding 65 miles, made me feel pretty cool about life. It was good to be with Kyle and my friend Warren, living in style. They even had oatmeal soap. Who would have thought of such awesome timing and good fortune? Good fortune good fortune, no one says that anymore.

Back of the bike sign: Modawkin' (Madsenese for "moving")
Today's quote: "It's all about the journey man" - Andy, from Seaside Prom Bike Shop

Portland Pit Stop

Friday the 25th

I rode the bus into Portland this morning, said goodbye to the new friends. The ride was only an hour long, I sat in the back with a guy who said he was really good at crossword puzzles and snuck sips out of his 40. In Portland, I went to the east side to chat with Wade frrom the Belmont Foundation and post some blogs. Had lunch and Wade gave me some electrolyte tablets that you drop in your water bottle. It works better and is a lot lighter than all that gatorade powder.

City life was a nice change. I mostly babysat my bike all day, made some more signs, called friends, and soaked in the sun. With my shirt off of course - even though my small nipples look more like zits (thank you, Justin Kelley).

So I ran into some friends from Fox, and then took gear back to REI with no hassle. I wanted a longer sleeping pad and I returned bike shorts in the name of Thoreou.

It was my friend Kyle's 21st, so we went to Henry's for dinner. My body told me it didn't need any liquid carbs. It was good to see all the baseball buddies - Bo tooke me back to Newberg and my blankie.

It's tough having good friends in two states.

And then My Legs Died

Seaside - Tillamook
50 miles

Eric took me to Seaside bright and early. I spent 2 hours at the PignPancake sipping on coffee, waiting for the bike shop to open. Once it did I got a new tube and the owner told me I could get Armadillos (a really tough, sturdy tire) in Cannon Beach, 8 miles up the road.

I spent a couple hours in Cannon Beach, getting the tires, putting them on, getting some pizza and going to the bank. The tires were costy but worth it, I don't think I'll have to worry about getting a flat now. I was really edgy the whole time, like I had to get on the road or something. It was weird.

This is where the hills turned into mountains. It's a good thing I couldn't see how big they were, otherwise I might have really despaired. But I just plugged away and it all worked out. But these hills were huge. I think they are suppose to be some of the biggest of the ride. Coming into the towns below "Mt. Neahkahnie", it finally flattened out. And then my legs died. I couldn't even go up a tiny slope w/out aching. Torture.

After some sitting around and drinking water, my legs came back. Then I tried not to push it too hard, I didn't want to lapse back. Then, out of nowhere, I just started going great. I don't know if it was the french bread or the gatorade, but I was cruising. Stopping at the beach to drink up, a guy asked what "I think I can" was suppose to mean. I talked with him and his friend for a good 1/2 hour and made my way back to Tillamook. And my was the cheese factory glorious.

This is where I became homeless. I tried the city park, the police station, and the fire dept. I asked a bunch of people if they knew where a park was, just hoping they'd offer me a spot on their couch. I took on a bitter attitude towards the phrase "good luck". And it was freezing cold out. I bought some pajamas at Fred Myer (they will pack light). That was when I looked homeless.

I finally made my way outside of the town (an officer said there was an $800 fine to camp in town). I got a call and pulled over to talk to my buddy. Three homeless Portland teenagers asked me if there was a campground, and I told them there was an RV park nearby. I knew it was there the whole time, but I was looking for some sort of adventure for the night. Anyways, these kids and I walked to the RV park. They had hitch-hiked, and they had that awful Portland smell to them.

It's funny because right when I was flaming over people saying good luck, I found some kids that were in a worse situation than I was. I tried to help them in any way I could, giving them food and $5 for cigarettes. I took a strengths test the other day and it said one of my 5 strengths was empathy. Maybe I'm just lonely.

Flatstoria

Artic - Astoria
61 miles, 4 1/2 hr, 13.6 avg speed, 5 flats?, 1 enchilada

The tent was pretty comfy. The great thing about camping is that you wake up early with the birds, but you're still refreshed. I don't get it, but I love it.

There was more of that hill to go - lots of it. I trudged on forever and saw at least 40 logging trucks packed w/ some good looking lumber. I know what good looking lumber looks like because I want to buy a Key logger's shirt - the train engineer type.

I stopped off in Raymond for a big old Enchilada. I talked to Justin Sweeney, who informed me of the normal and current weather patterns of Alaska. But hey, it was much better than talking to the other side of the booth. In the store I bought some French bread and cold pressed Olive Oil, like my mom said I should. Standing in line I got some funny looks from the wood-folk, and I really wanted to ask how much money I'd have to pay to get them to wear bike shorts.

On the road again, and I finally caught some sun, then some water. About time, I was now out of the woods. A deer jumped over the guard rail, not more than 15 feet in front of me, then ran across the street past a trucker slamming the breaks. I heard the other day that those poor beastards are blind, and that's why they act like idiots. It's good to sympathize.

In South Bend (a nice little place) a guy passing in a truck yelled "I know you can!". My bike sign was "I think I can".

At mile 30, the fun began. Pffft flat tire. I took everything off my rack, changed it (which took a while considering my excellent handiwork) and went on to mile 32, where it went flat again. I went through 3 tires, two poorly done patch jobs, some duct tape, etc. I somehow made it the 6 miles towards Astoria, where I finally saw the beautiful mouth of the Columbia and the hugh jass bridge. After another hour of salvaging my rubbers, I hitch-hiked into Astoria. My buddy Eric picked me up and we talked baseball and what not. I also took shower #1. If it weren't for the timing of the flat around his town, I really would have been stranded.

Back of the bike sign: "I think I can"
Quote of the day: "It was now too late and too far to go back, and I went on. And the mists had all solemnly risen now, and the world lay spread before me" - Dickens

Come As You Are

7-22-08
Elma to Artic
37 miles, 3 hours

Today started off a little late, but for two good causes. First, Jay took me into Elma, where I bought a bivy tent. He made sure that we set it up and told me the ifs and buts about it. The great thing about being stupid is you learn something new every day. Then I made sure to get nine holes of disc golf in, with the new disc Jay sold me. It's a Roc disc, so I wrote "I'm ready to (Roc)!

I set off for Aberdeen and my legs were not happy. It dawned on me that I am riding my bike a long way. In Aberdeen I had my eyes examined by a nice doctore who gave me the contacts I've been missing. I talked to some guys at a music store about Kurt Cobain, since this was his hometown. They told me about the famed bridge he supposedly lived under. There's an idol for you.

After disrupting traffic I made some good headway towards Raymond. There was what seemed to be a 3 miles climb, which I rocked at 6 mph. After taking some pictures I made a 1/2 mile descent before I realized I forgot my helmet... back to 6 mph.

I came to a campsite pretty quick, in Artic, a nice place where you get to pick raspberries out of the owner's garden. I forgot some details about setting up the tent. Jay would have been less proud of me, but I got it up.

I hope I never have kids. I'll be the dad that takes two hours to set up the tent, and all the neighbor kids will make fun of me. Then my children will likely develop insecure identities. I wish I didn't make fun of boy scouts so much when I was little, their children are going to be congressmen.

At night I talked to some campers. Dave and I talked about books forever and Micah gave me one of Jon Krakauer's books. They were both nice guys. Micah was a little too nice thanks to Mr. Beer and it took me a while to get to bed. He shook my hand at least 15 times. We had a good talk though, both of those guys made me feel like I'm doing the right thing with this trip.

Today's back of the bike sign: San Fran or Bust
Quote: Keep the rubber side down - Wade Trimmer

Read the Signs! 7-11-08

Monday:
Silverdale - Elma
76 miles, 5:46 on bike, 13 mph avg speed

So I left Grandi's and looked for a back way to Gorst, the oasis in the desert. Olivia left me at the end of the driveway. I went down a road that said "dead end", just because I thought it would get me there. Lesson #1, read the signs. A friendly old lady with her dog helped me to find the city on a hill and I was on my way to Shelton. Things were looking good as a driver went out of his way to yield to me. He must have been a biker.

I stopped in Allyn for lunch and sneaked ahead of a huge line of cars backed up at a Construction site. Not too exciting, but somewhere along the line I thought of a name for my other bike, the white "Mistral". I like to introduce it to other bikes as "Mistrial - you know, O.J. Simpson?" I figure Bronco Blanco is a clever name for that bike. Get it?

I got on to Shelton and couldn't resist the Ultimate Redneck store. I've wanted a safety orange construction shirt for a while now and I figured it would be good for visibility. Then I road my bike for an eternity.

Leaving my bike at a bus stop while I went to the convenience store was a bad idea. I met a talkative (sp?) guy with a lot of crystal in his eyes. Crazy angry crack eyes. No more bus stops for me.

At 62 miles my legs died. I was pretty stoked to finally get to McCleary. Then someone told me there wasn't a camp site for 12 miles. Yay for adventures! At mile 6 I realized this bike trip was a great idea. I saw a sign for "Disc Golf and Hostel" in Elma. Sweet! A combo made in heaven. I ended up playing disc golf with a bunch of nice strangers, who gave me a few tips, and the owner (Jay) took me to the grocery store. Needs met.

Image - a hole at the disc golf course.

Up 'til Now

It's been nine months since I had "the epiphany", my crazy idea of riding a bike down the 101. I didn't even know people did that. I didn't even know where the 101 was, I just thought I'd ride my bike straight to Mexico on some green, red, and white road.

The first step towards the tour was riding my '72 Schwinn 5 miles from Newberg to St. Paul... except that I got a flat on the 2nd mile. Good thing Bo was there to go get the truck. The next step was buying the "Mistral" (it's a mistrial, you know, OJ Simpson?), a fifteen year old ten speed converted to a single speed, made by the now defunct Canadian Cycle and Motor Company. They're into hockey sticks now.  Somewhere along the line was riding up that huge hill to Sherwood... then in December, riding twenty miles into Portland. Or twenty three miles from Kingston to Port Townsend. That bike had a high gear ratio too, it wasn't easy. What else did I go through? It's so hard to get a job when you request three weeks off. Good thing I have an uncle. Also, how about these bike shorts... do I really have to wear that?

Well, I finally found the bike of my life on Craig's List, a Lemond Etape. Twenty minutes after it was posted - what a pretty steal. Put on the pedals, new break pads, a chain, a rack and panniers from Half Link on Whidbey Island, a bike computer... the credit card has taken a beating, but that's what my upcoming corporate slav.. tenure is for. Oh ya, I had to get a new wheel as well. $120. I should have listened to Bo when he said not to cross the trolley tracks. That hurt.

Anyways, I'm about to leave Grandi's house here in Silverdale. Ian (my little brother) and I road here from Hansville yesterday. Twenty miles. Today I need sixty to get to McCleary. I've never gone that far. Maybe I shouldn't listen to the crazy ideas I get on my Schwinn.

Today's back of the bike sign: "Maiden Voyage"

Today's quote: "Early to bed and early to rise"