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Two passes. One hundred miles.

ANDERSON, CA - It wasn't quite the early start I was hoping for but by 07:15 I managed to get off and up out. Fortunately the road was at the bottom of a canyon following the Trinity River so it stayed shady. I was able to pick up 20 miles by 09:00 while it was still cool. I stopped at a market in Big Bar for my morning coffee and donut and found three cyclists sitting out front. They'd ridden from Corvallis, OR, out to the coast then down to Arcata and were headed to Redding, CA. I was blown away to meet some other cyclists on this bit of road. I can count on one hand the times I've I run into touring cyclists that aren't following Adventure Cycling's maps. Seeing them relying on their wits and a map they'd torn out of a weekly (I had to do after loosing my map in Susanville) was refreshing. Chatting a bit I discovered they'd also had the same problems with water the day before. They rode on and I got my cup of coffee. I ended up passing them a few miles down while they were pulled of fixing something but they caught up with me when I stopped for a drink in Junction City. We started to ride out together but one of them had gotten a flat so I rode on alone.

I didn't know much about the topology of the ride other than that there was one big pass, Buckhorn Summit 3213ft, between me and Redding. I'd hit two big but unmarked passes the day before, they both had long climbs followed by long descents, not a promising sign. I started the long pull out of town and began having flashbacks to a similar hill on the way out of Austin, NV on US-50. Same distracting heat, steep winding curves, lack of shade, lack of shoulder, and abundance of motor homes and trucks. It was steep enough people had left jugs of water along the top for over heating cars. I tried to determine if it would be ethical to pour one over my head to cool off. At the top some construction project was in full swing. I talked to the flagman. His news wasn't good, I'd clear this pass then drop back down before starting up the Buckhorn, you might say that this was just the warm up. The ride down was nice but as I was too distracted thinking about every foot I was dropping was another I'd have to regain later.

I ate lunch at some hippy run Mexican restaurant. From that description I'm sure you can imagine the overly health and environmentally conscious but amazingly bland burrito I had. The lesson is don't buy Mexican food from hippies, especially white hippies. Go find a real tacoria that's being operated out of a van. Anyways.

The second pass was longer but much more pleasant. It was longer but parts were shaded. Once I got in a zone I really didn't notice much until I saw the 3000 ft sign. The downhill was spectacular, I had 2500 feet to drop over the 20 miles to Redding. There were winding banked turns I got to take at the same speed as traffic. I passed a lake and the temptation was too much, I guiltily spent 10 minutes swimming. Getting into Redding was a relief. I bought a sandwich and bottle of beer to celebrate then pumped out another 10 miles to make sure I could claim the century. The schedule can still be made.

Out of the fridge, into the oven

EAST OF BURNT RANCH, CA - The night before I'd squatted a spot at one of the most beautiful campgrounds I've come across. It was at the end of an old overgrown strech of the highway in a dense foggy rainforest overlooking the ocean. I'd ended up squatting because at the bottom of the overgrown road was a gate with a combination lock. Now the idea was that you would sign in (read pay) at the ranger station a few miles up the road and they'd give you the combination. That sounded like a horrible idea to me. I was sitting there reading the sign explaining this because it had gotten too dark to continue riding safely. Sure that any rangers would appreciate that bit of reasoning I pushed my bike around the end of the gate and away I went.

This becomes relavent to today's events when on the way out in the morningI find a fallen tree streched across the road and two rangers readying their chainsaws to remove it. My options at this point seemed to be: A) turn around and hide B) since the rangers have likely seen me, wait patiently for them to clear the road C) push my bike through the various thorned plants and attempt to navigate a path around the tree so I can start making some miles. Not wanting to wait around and possibly have a discussion I went with C. Had I known before hand about the waist high stinging nettles I probably would have chosen differently. The funny thing about nettles is, it takes a few seconds to realize that the pulsing-burning sensation coming from your leg is from that plant you brushed 5 feet back. Well you know me, instead of cutting my losses and turning back I gritted my teeth and pushed on pell-mell uttering obsenities under my breath--not that it mattered, the rangers had managed to get their chainsaws going no one could hear a thing. I made it the 1/2 mile to the highway before stopping to begin swearing.

As I mentioned in the previous volume of this narative I have a lot of miles to cover in a short time. Because of that today was a stressful but productive day. After my painful start this morning I put in another 30 miles on the cold fog shrouded rolling hills that are the 101. I was such mentally draining riding that I found myself mentally bargining away my right to complain about the heat in any future corespondence. So no matter how hot it gets (or was this afternoon) I'll not be complaining. It must have worked, as soon as I got onto CA-299, the fog lifter and the temperature soared. I didn't budget enough water for the higher temperature and the 30 miles of long winding climbing. I ended up bumbing a liter of a fire crew that was sitting on the side of the road waiting for the rest of their group. At the top of the second pass a couple stopped and gave me a cold bottle of water, I gave them a flag I'd found in the morning.

I was ready for a cold drink when I pulled into Willow Creek, the oasis I'd been riding toward for the better part of 6 hours. I don't know what they put in the water here but in the 15 minutes it took me to buy some fruit and a Gatorade I saw no less than 5 unbelievably georgous girls that were probably not old enough for me to even be looking at. It's a good thing I was in a hurry because I could have gotten into a lot of trouble in that town if I'd had any more time. You know that phrase "Don't get between a mamma and her cubs", well they didn't just mean mamma bears.

Fog

ORICK, CA - I woke up and everything had been covered by ash, then the dew had settled on it, creating a muddy cement. I just ignored it and packed up.

I'd been telling myself since Eugene that I'm going to wash clothes at the next laundromat I found. This morning I was finally out of everything, and by out I mean smells like-a-corpse-foul and so sticky from dried sweat that they have to be peeled off. Luckily US-101 passed right by the "101 Laundry" in Crescent City. The washing took a while and ate up a ton of quarters but smelling like Surf is much nicer than smelling like-a-corpse-foul.

South of town, I started following California's Costal Bike Route signs. The day before they'd served me well, keeping me off the 101 and on calm scenic farm roads. Today I didn't fare so well with them. Following some of the state's green signs lead me to some of either the National Park's brown signs, which led me up a 3 road to a dead end lookout. It had a great view but I really wasn't in the mood. Back to the 101 and up the same hill, different side.

I know the BikeE isn't the fastest bike but it was really creeping up the hills this morning. They were some big, long ones too so it was frustrating. As I'd ascend and descent, sweating and freezing, I'd pass back and forth into the fog. It wasn't very thick but just enough to leave me glued to my mirror waiting to see the next logging truck come barreling out of a dense patch. One cool thing about fog, you feel awful tough when you can watch the steam rising off your forehead, You might even find yourself trying to strike a tough looking pose so that the striking image of a cyclist pumping up the grade, steam poring from their helmet becomes one they'll never forget, speaking hypothetically though.

Giving the bike route signs one final try I ended up on the Redwoods Scenic Bypass. It was amazing. I rode between groves of redwoods and sequoia hundreds of years old. Craining my neck looking up to the top of them and I talking to myself as I rode "Damn that's a big tree. Hot damn, that ones even bigger." Pretty inspiring to think that given the chance any logging company would have all those old trees out of there faster than you can say "Timber" or possibly "Dollar".

I tried to pick up as many miles as I could in the afternoon but between either a slow leak or dragging fender (not sure which) and the early darkness caused by the fog I probably only made 40 miles for the day. That puts me in a tough spot considering I'm supposed to be in Sacramento in 3.5 days and it's over 300 miles. I'm sure it'll work itself out.

A useless bit of trivia my friend Molly sent me the day before: sequoia is the only 7 letter word that uses all 5 vowels.

Getting out of Oregon before the whole thing burns

FT. DICK, CA - I was the last one into the hiker-biker camp last night and the first one out this morning. There were two girls, a European couple, and two guys who didn't have bikes staying that night. I think the most I said to anyone was howdy. I got early start wanting to pickup as many miles as possible in California.

As I crested the first grade I saw two cyclists coming up behind me. I stopped at the bottom to take a picture of some dinosaurs in front of a tourist trap called "The Prehistoric Gardens" and the first of the girls from the campsite rode past me. We started talking and I ended up riding with Ilana and Ann for the next 20 miles into Gold Coast, OR where we all ate breakfast together. They'd both finished school in Boston and Ilana had talked Ann into riding from Canada to Mexico with her. I had the email to Martin all written in my head "Sorry, I've decided to ride to Mexico with two pretty girls. I'm sure you understand. Good luck finding another rider."

Shortly after I parted ways with the two of them I stopped to walk down to the ocean. Looking south I saw a big swath of smoke. I asked a lady standing a bit down the beach where the fire was. "Oh, that's not smoke it's fog." she replied. I pushed my sunglasses down my nose and squinted "Is fog usually that yellow?" I asked. "Yeah, it's fog, it burned off about the time we got to Brookings." "Hummm okay thanks." I was almost convinced. Back on the bike. It kept getting darker and darker, everything was turning yellow, the sun became a bright sunset orange. When the ash started swirling past me I realized how coked up that lady had to of been. She probably thought the ash was snow.

By the time I was in Brookings it was getting pretty creepy. I had this urge to go indoors and hide. I kept riding. By 17:00 it looked like dusk, everyone was driving with their lights on. When I could catch glimpses of the ocean was dark red. It got darker as I crossed into California. The ash had made a mess of my "clean" white shirt. Cars would throw up columns of ash as the drove past me down the road. I started taking a lot of photos. The light gave everything a great contrast, I think I got a couple of good pictures of a monument in a cemetery that I rode past. I finally pulled off to camp in a field once it started sprinkling. I'll probably wake up with a tent covered in ash.

Oh one more thing. I just want to go on the record as saying the State of Oregon has done an excellent job with the Coast Bike Route. All of it I rode had an excellent shoulder. The bike detours were well marked for the most part--apparently people steal the signs for souvenirs. I'm interested to see how California compares, especially since all I have is AAA's California road map.

Tailwinds

HUMBUG MT. STATE PARK - I just felt off all day but thanks to massive tailwinds all day I made 84 miles.

The morning was very enjoyable. At several points the bike route diverges from US-101 to avoid busier parts of towns along the way. Whoever picked the detour roads really seemed to like hills. I spent a good chunk of the morning pumping up some burly ones. Three things kept me smiling the entire time: instead of looking at urine bottles on the side of the road I watched hundreds of different colors of flowers roll by, the tailwind doing most of the work, live folk music on Jefferson Public Radio.

Between a pounding headache and a fender that kept breaking the afternoon wasn't as fun. The former was corrected by downing a ton of water. The later was halfway remedied with some bike spokes I picked up at a shop I passed and bending them to look like fender struts. As the saying goes, it ain't pretty but it works.

A whole mess of sea air

WILLIAM TUGMAN STATE PARK, OR 07/26/02 - Just as the sun came up the clouds closed in and sat there until noon. If it hadn't been for the light headwind this would have been a perfect day for riding. The shoulder along OR-38 was fine but the traffic was a bit crazy, everyone else also wanted to go to the ocean this weekend. I really can't complain, of all the NBG riders I think I got the best segment of the relay. With temperatures in the 70s, even the humidity isn't bad. I spend my rest stops staining my fingers trying to get sick eating black berries off the vines along the road Yeah, it's pretty rough, I might be singing a different tune when I get in to Sacramento though, heard it was 101 yesterday.

Once I made it out to Winchester Bay near the Dunes I found every gearhead from 6 counties with their high school sweet heart, 3 kids, 1 Ford F350, camper and a trailer containing 2 ATVs, 4 motorized scooters, 3 BMX bikes and somewhere between 5 and 25 gallons of gas. I stuck out like a sore thumb. I was thinking about getting a boom box and playing a loop of motorcycle sounds to help camouflage myself.

Now long ago I swore that I'd never again pay for a campsite without a shower and I intend to stick to it. I got no use for a picnic table, I'm not gonna light a fire and I can sleep and crap in the woods. But all along the Oregon Coast Bike Route--which I'm now on--there are hiker-biker campgrounds some of which have showers and they're only $4. It sure worked out for me tonight I got my shower and didn't mind the four bucks one bit.

Eugene

CURTIN, OR - Up in the morning to NPR, packed it up and got moving. I didn't stop for breakfast because I'd purchased some "organic" bagels at a co-op on the way out Corvallis the day before. I was starving when I finally stopped to eat one. I guess organic means "molds quickly" because all four of them were covered in green and white. I was tempted to eat the least moldy one out of principle but the smell was too much.

Diane Bishop, my bike contact with the City of Eugene, had emailed me a set of directions to get onto a the greenway, down along the river and into town to meet her. Closer friends, family and co-workers will be shocked to learn that I was at our designated meeting spot I was a full hour and a half ahead of schedule. It was partially because I didn't want another flat tire to delay me and partially because I just ride so darn fast. [That second one was a joke.] With this extra bit of time I went looking for a close by place to eat at. What I found was I-5, a mall and the accompanying acres of parking lurking just out of site of the bike path. All I could find in this asphalt desert was a Taco Time. I was hungry enough to take what I could get and retreat back across the river to safety.

I met Diane at a beautiful rose garden along the trail and we rode on to City Hall. There I met Beth Forrest, the other person coordinating my visit and then finally Mayor Jim Torrey. This being my first visit to a city on behalf of the NBG and the first time I remember meeting a mayor, I was a bit nervous. I wonder if it was obvious, he started out by joking with me "I didn't wear a tie today, I figured you wouldn't be wearing a tuxedo on your way down." Feeling a bit more at ease we talked about their greenways and I spent quite a bit of time telling them what a good job they were doing. He gave me the proclamation (they're actually going to mail it so it doesn't get trashed riding down in my bags) and a bunch of Eugene schwag [it could be spelled like that...]. We went outside to check out my bike and get a couple more pictures before the Mayor had to leave to go back to his business.

Afterwards Diane took me to lunch at this wonderful Indian-Mediterranean restaurant. As we ate we looked over the brand new copy of ODOT's bike map Diane dug up for me (if I'd known she had one I wouldn't have ridden the 6 miles to recover the old one) and planned a route south. Until that point I hadn't really looked at the California side of things. I'd been thinking ride to Medford, then start planning out the California part. Based on the maps I've got that would have set me up to spend at least a full day riding on I-5. The more I looked at it the better the coast started to sound, traffic might be bad but I-5'd be worse, the coast is more scenic and it's not that much farther out of the way and the weather should be cooler. So off I set.

20 miles south of Eugene in a two gas station town called Lorain I got to talking with a fellow named Jim. He'd been an Airborne Ranger in the '50s and '60s, had an accident parachuting that ended with him landing on his head, and--since I was talking to him--surviving. He was a rider too, pedaling around on a pretty sweet little Canondale he'd tricked out to work with his tweaked back. We talked straight for an hour and a half tearing through world politics, details of his military service, Judaism's take on the end times, and local history.

Down the road I camped between the rows of someone's pine tree farm. Less than 50 miles to the ocean.

etc.

• Rural is rural no matter the state. I have to keep reminding myself I'm not in West Virginia. Seeing the trucks hauling lumber not coal does help jog the memory.
• No matter how good it sounds, Chef Boyardee Macaroni and Cheese can only disappoint you.
• Riding in West Oregon in an education in the subtleties of the color green.

Back down OR-99

MONROE, OR - I woke up in the corner of a hazelnut orchard with light just starting to seep through the trees. Mosquitoes bites covered my face and the full moon had done it's best to keep me awake all night. I'll spend the extra ten minutes to put up the tent in the future.

I was making excellent time on my way to Corvallis, barely aware of the rolling green and golden fields I was passing. The shoulder was good and I looking forward to seeing all the fine folks at BikeE, the manufacture of my bike. Coming up a hill eight miles outside of town an old fellow on a highly customized BikeE pulled up beside me. The rider's name was Dave Wallace, we talked for a while as we rode into town ands we parted ways he told me about a nice place for breakfast.

I went over to the bakery he'd described and checked my email to see if I'd gotten any directions back from my contact at BikeE. I hadn't and a quick phone call explained why, he was on vacation. [Later in the day I got an email from him saying that and giving me the name of another person to contact but by that point I was a few miles south.] The guy I talked to on the phone explained that they were in the process of moving and there wouldn't even be much to see. Since Brad and I had stopped in last summer it wasn't a big deal. With a few hours now freed up I decided to get on down the road and then find some where to sleep for a few hours.

I ended up crashing out under some bushes on the side of a field for a while, mostly trying to kill time. I've got to be in Eugene tomorrow at 12:00 but it's only 40 miles from Corvallis so there wasn't much reason to hurry. As it does, the sun kept on moving, my shade drifting along the opposite direction. Eventually it was just me and the sun, at that point a little riding didn't sound so bad.

I pulled into Monroe an hour or so later, ate dinner then headed to the rest stop a few miles south of town. At the rest stop I started to check my map then realized that I'd left it back at the diner. Well a three-mile-mistake like this is nothing in a car, in six minutes you'll have it straightened out and be right back where you were. On the bike you start asking yourself if it's really worth the trouble. I didn't want loose another map, and I was still ahead of schedule so I figured what the heck. I turned it around and I pedaled remembered another n-mile-mistake I'd made. Last summer Brad and I got separated riding into a small town in Nebraska just after dusk. Unable to find him I rode the 15 miles back to the previous town thinking maybe he hadn't been as close behind me as I'd thought. He wasn't any where to be found. At this point a bit freaked out and not knowing what else to do I turned back around. In town I found Brad and half the volunteer fire department looking for ME. This time I was able to get my map back and avoid the search party.

On The Road Again

SOUTH OF AMITY, OR - Well I'm back on the road again. This time I'm headed south to Santa Cruz as a part of the National Bicycle Greenway (NBG)'s Relay Ride that started in Washington DC. In Chicago the ride had a major setback when Andrew Heckman was hit by a car. New riders stepped up to fill in the holes and make sure the ride would complete is his honor. Andrew's been recovering extremely well, his shattered pelvis is healing well enough that he's started walking.

I signed up for the Portland to Eugune and Eugune to Sacramento segments after hearing about Andrew but Martin Kreig, the founder of the NBG, convinced me to ride all the way to Santa Cruz. A few weeks later I ended up talking my roommate Bob into riding the Boise to Portland segment with another rider, Skot Paschal. They ended up riding seperately but both arrived yesterday. Last night I went for pizza with Bob and some of his friends in Portland, he was still silent Bob but it seemed like he enjoyed his ride.

This morning I went to breakfast with another old roomate, Chris Larson, and his girlfriend Sierra. Afterwards I packed up my gear (leaving a box of dead weight I'd been hauling in their basement) and headed downtown. Believe it or not I rode the whole way to Portland with no flats but finally got my first one riding down to meet Skot and Bob. I made it down there around 12:15, the schedule said 12:00. Bob had gone to get a box for Skot's bike but there Skot was, typing away on his Pocketmailer. We chatted for a while about his ride. From what he said about the meeting I didn't miss much, it was a pretty simple affair the mayor's commisioner came down gave them the proclamation a couple of pictures were taken and that was it.

I got on 99W and headed south. Man it wasn't that hot, low 90s, but the humidity was killing me. Last summer when we were in West Virginia I was so hot I stopped at a Salvation Army and bought a hand towel. I'd leave it draped across my shoulder and wipe my face off ever minute or two. While it wasn't that bad today I kept wishing I had that towel.

My plan today was to get in a position where I can make it to the BikeE factory outside of Corvallis by 12:00. I think I've done alright, I picked up almost 50 miles on my way out of Portland. Hopefully I'll be eating lunch with Doug Oxen and the BikeE crew.

got me an apartment

well i talked my dad into signing on as a co-signer and got that apartment. i won't be moving in until august 15th but i've got a place to land.

leaving town

got a call from little bob, apparently he ended up riding on ahead of the other fellow. i'm going to try to meet up with him and have some pizza before i head south for santa cruz tomorrow.

bumming around pdx

i've been continuing to look for housing, hopefully i'll find out about the apartment mentioned in the last post soon. been checking my email at the library and on the pocketmailer so i haven't been able to update this blog. i'm almost through the internet withdrawals that have ensued.

tuesday i meet up with little bob my old roomate who's riding to portland from boise as part of the nbg ride. then i'm back out on the road. looking at the schedule one thing that's got me a bit worried is staying in palo alto. i spent a night in a park there a couple years back when i didn't have money for a hotel room. to cheer me up chris e mentioned that i might get to meet willie brown. he then took the next several minutes to enumerate all the traits that make willie such a pimp. i'd never really thought about either the possibility of meeting mr. brown or how pimp he is. i guess it'll be something to think about on the way south.

portland state

i did my orientation at portland state today. man oh man there's a TON of freshmen girls, and they're all cute, the next couple of years are going to be pretty rough. got signed up for classes. 13 credits: an intro to cpe (computer engineering) class, a math class, and get this i'm taking the honors freshman track. ended up changing my major from computer science to computer engineering, not a big deal since i don't have any credits. i'm pretty excited about this whole school thing, i feel like i'm finally ready to do it an appreciate it.

on the localizing-myself front i got a library card and turned in an application for a studio apartment. the apartment is really cool, hardwood floors, full kitchen and shared bathroom, $400 a month but it's only 3 (small) blocks away. i'm supposed to know if i got it in three days.

New York

I've had a pleasant time in New York. I've been able to do almost all of the things I really wanted to do/see while I was here. I went to the Museum of Modern Art, saw the Statue of Liberty, bummed around the city and caught a couple plays with my dad. I wanted to get over to Coney Island but since I spent a day sitting around in various parks reading Jack Kerovac's On The Road (Bill Spaceman loaned it to me before leaving Portland, he seemed to think it appropriate) it didn't happen.

MoMA was great, seeing the big name stuff was a bit underwhelming but they had an exhibit called Tempo dealing with various aspects of time that I really liked. Some of the tech-ed out sculptures and multimedia stuff I could get into first on a technical level and then on a conceptual level. I was surprised to find myself thinking about them a few days later, it's actually got me thinking about taking some art classes.

Theater I've got mixed feelings about. The first night we saw "The Graduate" with Kathleen Turner and Alicia Silverstone and it was wonderful. Two nights ago was "Oklahoma", everything was done beautifully--heck they even had a full orchestra. I just don't like musicals (Hedwig and the Angry Inch being the ONLY exception), every time the forward motion of the plot gets stalled so they can launch into a song I start to loose interest. All through the show I kept flashing back to my brother's elementary school production of "Oklahoma", he sang those songs for months, mostly because it drove me crazy. I'm sure I'll be belting out "Oh the farmer and the cowman should be friends..." as I'm riding south. Last night we saw "Top Dog/Underdog" a two man dark comedy, about two brothers one named Booth and the other Lincoln. Man oh man it was good. I'd picked it almost by accident, after waiting in line at the discount ticket booth for an hour I had only a minute in front of the sign showing available tickets. At the window I just asked what they had available that wasn't a musical, for some reason I liked the name.

Everything in this town if god-awful expensive. Even a crappy dinner will set you back $10-15 a head. I did most of my eating on the complimentary breakfast and evening hordervs the fancy hotel my dad got provides. I'm glad he paid for the plays otherwise I'd have probably been sitting in some crappy comedy club listening to "You know what really bothers me?" over and over.

One thing I really dig (hear that Kerovac) is the subways, I'd ridden them before in other cities but this time I was the one in charge of getting myself lost (and boy can you). It's probably the only deal in town. I could ride around for hours talking to the crazy Vietnam vets and looking at all the pretty girls.

Walking around town people seemed to get a kick out of the cowboy hat and sideburns. The people passing out flyers keep calling out "Hey Billy Bob!", Texas kept getting brought up in conversations and I'd see guys took over then start rubbing their jaw as they looked away. Riding in on the A train from the airport I looked over and got a kick out of watching two guys air-lasso-ing and making like they're riding horses at me.

Today it's back to Portland and trying to find a place to live. Hopefully I'll get the photos sorted through and posted before I leave on the next part of the bike riding.

bike trip photos

the photos from the bike trip are up

hanging out in pdx

i've been cruising around pdx looking at the housing the last couple of days. there's some really cheap stuff but often it's super far out. i'm looking for something close to psu and cheap. so far nothings jumped out and bit me. a friend emailed me this link, i could think of a lot worse places to live...

...and into Portland, Happy 4th of July

[Yeah I'm here, it sort of killed my drive to write email, that's why this one is so late. I think Seattle is out, not enough time before my flight. Don't expect much in the next couple of days, I'll probably send out an email or two from New York City. I'm going to try to post some photos if I can get some bandwidth together.]

PORTLAND, OR - Camped 50 feet from the road to the east and the train tracks to the west, it was a noisy night. Once the sun came up the train engineers could finally see my tent and boy did they let me know they were there. The first one by gave me a real wakeup call, he let that horn blow for 10 or 15 seconds straight as he rolled by. I about peeed my pants it was so loud. It was more than enough to have me thrashing my way out of my tent trying to figure out what the heck was going on.

So with a 06:30 take off and 80ish miles to Portland I departed. 99E was empty farm road all the way into Albany. After that it merged with I-5 and I had to try to parallel it on country roads.

On one of those roads a cyclist, named Andy, rode up behind me and we got to talking. He was just a mile from home, finishing up his 40 mile loop through--in my opinion--the most beautiful farmland in Oregon. I joked with him that he must have gotten a much earlier start than I had, I still hadn't made 20 miles. We talked mostly about riding, I told him about the trip up. He's been with the State Police for almost 30 years working all over the state so when I mentioned 97 coming out of Klamath Falls he knew exactly what I was talking about. I think I've gotten him convinced to take a week off this summer and do a lightweight credit card tour across the state (one of the major benefits of being older and having a good job is that the credit card can take the place of the tent when it comes time to put a roof over your head). As our paths diverged he gave me directions on through Independence to Salem and took a picture for me.

Down the road a bit further I ran into a mountain biker named Vince. He was an evangelical minister and boy could he rattle off scripture. I'd be trying to think through the one he just finished one and he'd be onto another one. I had a lot of fun talking talking with him, he was a very impressive dude, both for the depth of his faith and the joy with which he shared it.

Going on down the road I had get back on I-5 for a mile. Between that stretch and the road through Albany I found six Merican (as our President likes to pronounce it) flags of all different sizes on the side of the road. The ones that were in good shape I folded up and started giving to people I met along they way.

From Albany to Portland on 99E it's about 50 miles. Strangely enough as I stood stopped at mile marker 44 [in Oregon the mile markers are laid north to south] contemplating whether I should try to make it into PDX that night another touring cyclist rode by. I caught up with him and asked where he was going and where he'd been. He told me that he'd spent the last month riding the Oregon coast and planed to be home in Portland in time to see some fireworks. The more I thought about the better pushing on in to town sounded. As the miles wore down I started getting more and more excited.

As I as I crested hill and caught my first glimpse of the downtown skyline I couldn't stop chuckling to myself. I was finally in Portland. I rode down narrow streets full of the sounds of backyard parties, smells of food and the smoke from fireworks. Little kids would pint at the bike and laugh, I'd wave back stopping to talk if they asked questions. As the sun set air horns from boats in the Willamette sounded and I headed for my old roommate and friend Chris's house.

So here I leave you. I hope everyone had as good a 4th as I did.

Up the Willamette Valley...

SHEDD, OR - The birds in the campground woke me up early. I was half tempted to go back to sleep until it warmed up enough that I'd stop seeing my breath. I decided 14:00 me would be pretty pissed at 06:15 me. It's a good thing I didn't because I was 20 miles down the hill before the clouds cleared and it finally warmed up.

I got onto I-5 for a full mile to get into Eugene. Probably the most agitating mile of the trip, plenty of shoulder but listening to "werrrmppp-rrrmp-werrmmph" gets old fast. Thanks to ODOT's Oregon Bicycling Guide* once I rolled down the exit ramp I was able navigate into Eugene on reasonably bikeable roads. I even managed to get on a bike path by the river avoiding a pretty hairy interchange.

I was feeling like I had arrived, that this was a totally bike friendly place. Then I was sitting in the straight-lane at an intersection after having pressed the button labeled "CYCLISTS PRESS FOR GREEN", when this guy in a pickup pulls up behind me, rolls down his window and asks if I'm going straight. Yes I tell him, "Well you need to be over there in the crosswalk then" he says as the light turns green and he drives past me. I started trying to tell him to pull over and talk to me but he kept on going. I chased after him for 3 or 4 blocks and by that time I was steamed. I wished I'd just tossed my harmonica through his back window when I had the chance instead of trying to get him to talk to me. I spent the next few minutes riding around looking for a fight. Fortunately I didn't find one and slowly cooled down.

I did however find a bike shop. They weren't very friendly but they sold me some tri-flow for my shifter cables and told me about a pizza place. I went around the corner and got a slice but it wasn't very good. Getting to watch all girls from the university across street walking by made up for it though.

Eventually I got packed up and started heading out of town. On the way I found another bike shop. They were much friendlier and they had the Third Eye Helmet Mirror. I was tickled pink, my old one had been left in Oakdale, CA on an old helmet [long story ommited]. Being unable to find a replacement in Reno, I had purchased a handlebar mirror. After using it for the last week the only positive thing I can say about a handlebar mirror is that it's better than no mirror. With a helmet mirror you can sit in any position and see what's coming, it works when you're going around a turn, you can even check what's coming up on your right side. The only downside? You might as well buy some suspenders and birkenstocks because you look like some kind of recumbent jockey.

On the way out to Junction City I was able to give a little back. Jeff had picked up a flat tire on his way home. We got his bike squared away in no time and he pedaled down the road with me a half mile.

In Junction City I rode past a sign mentioning the city pool. Being as tomorrow was Independence Day I figured I should get a shower in honor of it. The kid working the counter even let me have it for free. Three cheers for small towns. In fact the whole evening/afternoon was strangely like the Iowa. Swimming pools, nice people, the shoulder of the road was even replaced with gravel. The only thing different was the crops and the license plates.

* The Oregon Dept of Transportation will mail you a copy for free. If you're doing any riding in Oregon GET ONE, it'll save you a ton of trouble. http://www.odot.state.or.us/techserv/bikewalk

Over the Cascades

OAKRIDGE, OR - I went to sleep with coyotes howling last night and this morning woke up with two deer screwing around next to my tent. Three cheers for nature.

On the road I was just crawling along until I stopped and adjusted my seat. I'd messed with it trying to find a position that put less strain on my knee right after it started hurting. I should have left it alone, as soon as I put it back everything fell into place and the miles just started rolling by.

ST-58 goes right past Odell Lake before cresting the Cascades at Willamette Summit. Odell Lake was made famous to most of my generation by an educational game of the same name in which you played a fish fighting for your life. It's a pretty lake but what really blew me away was the smell. It was like going to a craft show with all the scents of potpourri drifting around. I must have looked like a total jackass riding along sniffing with my nose up in the air.

Dropping down the other side of the Cascade Mountains made me glad I was coming from 4000 ft instead of 400 ft. Almost all afternoon was steep downhill, it would have been great riding except a headwind came up and forced me to pedal the entire time to keep any speed.

The highway parallels Salt Creek for a few miles. I kept looking at it and thinking how the last shower I'd had was way back in Klamath Falls. Let me tell you those crystal clear mountain streams are freezing, I screamed like a little girl and couldn't even get in above my knees. I ended up alternating between splashing myself and squealing.

I stopped in Oakridge got dinner and a beer (they had Black Butte Porter on tap, I couldn't resist) then headed down the highway looking for a place to camp. I scored big time. I came across a closed Forest Service campground. I rode back and forth a couple of times just admiring the moss hanging from the trees, the rocks in the creek, the hand pump well, the bathrooms were even unlocked. It was all mine, and I didn't have to feel guilty about not paying.

North on 97

CHEMULT, OR - Having to go to the bathroom is one of the fastest, if not the most pleasant, ways to wake up early. Once I was on the road I was glad I'd gotten the early start. There was still one more bad stretch of 97 to get through and traffic was light that early.

About two thirds of the way through, the soft gravel shoulder finally caught up with me. I spilled left onto the pavement but, mostly due to my low speed, I wasn't even scratched. I jumped up and pulled the bike off the road to check for damages. My pannier rack got bent and the bag got covered with dirt but everything else was fine.

A couple hours and a couple dozen miles later I wave at a car as it passes headed south. I thought it was a bit weird to see the same car headed north until it pulled off in front of me and someone shouts "Andrew". It was AT Dan, he's an ex-Renoite living in Portland who was driving his friend Jessy (sorry if I spelled it wrong) down to the Blackrock Desert. Jessy was going to help setup for the Burning Man festival and AT Dan was going off to do some hiking. [We call him AT Dan because there were too many people named Dan in Reno and he happened to hike the Appalachian Trail last summer.] They gave me some cookies and water then sent me on my way.

After that the riding was pretty uneventful. I spent quite a bit of time staring at the side of the road. I'm a bit disturbed by the number of urine-filled Gatorade bottles I saw today. I counted at least 10, there were a few more that were filled with something yellow but I wasn't going to check.

Thinking about it a bit I started to wonder how many of the cars and trucks passing me were being driven by some one peeing into a coke bottle at that very second. Forget talking on a cell phone, this, is distracted driving. Imagine for a second the mechanics of driving an 18-wheeler, holding the bottle and... ummm... operating your equipment, maybe if you use your knee to steer... I guess you have to appreciate that sort of dedication to a job.

One thing I don't appreciate is all the four American flags I've found on the side of the road. I'm all for showing your patriotism but tying a flag to your car until the wind eats it up or it just falls off is a pretty disrespectful way to do it. I'd like to ask anyone who's still got a flag on their antenna to do it a favor and either mount it inside their car or replace it with a sticker. I've still got two more flags to find homes for.