Grande Ronde to Corvallis

Day 4. 50 flat miles. My skin is fried.

I just ate the best vegetable lasagna I've ever had. Tonight I'm staying with 2 wonderful Warm Showers hosts, Jeff and Bettina. Jeff is an Oregon native and dispenses medication for a living, and Bettina relocated here from Germany and is head honcho at Habitat for Humanity. Together, they have cycled in many countries, including New Zealand.

Today was a mild day, lots of flat and an 8 mile section on a bike trail. I was in my glory being off the road and away from traffic. I pedaled through an array of farm land and vineyards and soaked it up. The only trouble was passing wineries too early to be sampling wine! Things could have gotten very unproductive if the timing was right.

To entertain myself, I mooed at cows and neighed at horses; if someone was watching me on a spy cam, they'd think I was certifiable. I also sang verses of Rocky Top as loud as I could, and thought about the trail. It influences my everyday life, and I still miss it all the time.

Neatest thing about today: a bird rode with me for maybe a quarter mile. I'd like to think it was intentional. He flew 10 feet overhead and chirped as he followed my path. Maybe he was looking for a friend? Who knows, but I enjoyed the short company.

I also made friends with 4 llamas. As I was passing a farm, I U-turned to snap some photos, and they bum rushed the fence to say hello. I've never trusted llamas though, ever since one bit me with its snaggle teeth at the Bronx Zoo years ago. Never trust a llama, or an animal with snaggle teeth.

Lots of road kill today, and I nearly created one myself. Damn garter snakes need to keep off the road! I do not want to be responsible for the death of an animal.

Today, I hit my max speed on a bike (don't read this part, mom): 35.7 glorious mph. It sure made my sunburn hurt less for a whopping mile or 2. It's the little things.

More tomorrow, and I hear it's a flat stretch. That's great news, my body gets a little break before the real climbing starts. Hooray!

Tillamook to Grand Ronde

Day 3. 65 ass-kicking miles. My face looks like a black and white cookie.

I underestimated todays mileage by about 6 miles, oops. But I have to say, I'm pretty damn proud. Pedaling my longest day ever with a loaded bike and a few bitchy climbs was difficult, but with an early start, I knew I would be fine. I am spent.

The appetite is already raging. I stopped for a second breakfast of grilled cheese and potato chips in Pacific City. Mmm, it was greasy and crunchy and oozed Tillamook cheddar.

After I left town, I met 2 other cyclists: Nick from Portland, and John from Chicago. They are only out for a few days and are on the Pacific Coast route. We cycled probably 15 miles on and off together, and then our routes split ways. It was a welcome treat to ride with people, even though we didn't talk much while riding. And it gave me a break from navigating! 

I've noticed that lots of people have cars on their property that are being "worked on," however, it looks like they haven't been touched in ages. Some areas remind me of the south  and my time on the AT.

Eastern Oregon has tons of beautiful old growth forests. The trees limbs are carpeted with thick blankets of moss stretching all the way their tops, it is just breathtaking. The forests look similar to those in Maine, and have that alpine air scent. I'm pedaling through little bits of heaven, for the most part.

My face got a heavy dose of sunburn today because I forgot to put on sunblock. Dang. So my nose and cheeks down is red, and from my nose up is ghostly. Sunblock tomorrow.

Ok, time for bed. My brain is getting mushy.

Cannon beach to Tillamook

Day 2. 40ish miles. Fun in the sun!

Last night I camped next to 2 Canadians, Missy, a nurse, and Kyle, a garbage man. They are on their way down to California for some mountain biking and relaxation. It was good to have friends at the end of the day to chat with.

Today was awesome! The weather was perfect, and by mid day I was in a t shirt and a vest. I got to work on my tan a bit, so now my tan lines are looking funny. Loving it.

After I got beyond Manzanita, the terrain became much flatter and closer to sea level. The miles preceeding had been much hillier and way high above the ocean.

After a long break in Manzanita, I cruised on to Tillamook, but not without a stop at DQ for some soft serve first. A girl has got to eat her ice cream! Of course I was a spectacle, that seems to be the trend. I'm on a popular route, aren't the locals used to traveling cyclists yet?

I took a tour of the Tillamook cheese factory and stuffed my face on cheese samples; my favorite was the smoked one. I may have taken more than a few cubes.

Once I left the scene of my cheese binge, I passed a gas station where the "Strawberry Ladies" were selling the first pick of the season. I chatted them up and then asked how much a pint was, and they said, "For you, free for being brave!" Ha! Grandmas love me. The berries are a bit tart, but are so fresh and delicious. They go great with my dark chocolate peanut butter.

I'm at a super lame campground of rv's and I'm the only cyclist. There's some resident cats, and a toothless caretaker. The showers are 50 cents for 3 minutes, so I spent a buck. To quietly give the middle finger to this lame place, I did my laundry in the sink. I should be in corvallis in 2 days and can wash clothes then. Hooray! And boo for all of this paid camping. The only thing good about this place are the intersting birds flying about. One has been hanging out by me for a while now, bedding down in the gravel and singing his chirps.

Tomorrow I am heading out early so I can get in 60 miles. I want a short day into Corvallis the next day. Let's hope tomorrow isn't a major challenge, I will start to head away from the coast, which probably means hills. Lactic acid, here I come!

Astoria to Cannon Beach

Day 1. 31 miles. Goonies never say die.

Here I am, settling in for my first night on the road. It's been an interesting day.

Last night I was sleeping by 8, finally a solid nights sleep. I only woke up once around 10, and that was to shut the tv. Man was I exhausted from all the fun and running around.

This morning, I found my way to the Maritime Museum, the western terminus of the TransAm. My stomach felt like it did on Springer Mountain day, I couldn't eat much and it was doing flips. Anyway, I took off from the museum, and it felt like I was only out for a little day trip. Not sure when the magnitude of this trip will hit me.

Leaving Astoria was a little confusing, and instead of following the official route, I rode the 101 all the way. I was supposed to be on some paralleling roads for a part of that section...oops.

I made my way to Seaside where I was finally able to do my ceremonial wheel dip. Pushing a fully loaded bike on a very long stretch of sand is like trying to run in a pool. Glad I only have to do it once more.

Awesome landmark of the day: the rock formations in the ocean from The Goonies. I could just picture the ship with One-eyed Willie!

The riding was easy, and the weather was relatively good; I suppose overcast is normal for this area. The sunshine on my face for half of the day sure was a welcome treat.

I crapped out at mile 30 today, though I had planned on 50. Exhaustion hit me, and my stomach was angry; I think I ate way too much cheese at lunch. So I took my time drinking tea and making a few calls from Cannon Beach, until I found my way to a lovely campground recommended by the bike shop. The only sucky part is paying to sleep on a patch of grass. I tried hard to find a bbq in town to crash (its Memorial day) but no such luck. Thought I could score a free yard to sleep in, but oddly, nobody was having a party. Oh well.

Day 1: check. No pain, no sore muscles, just tired. Success!

Note to self: off-brand raspberry crumble is a disgrace to backpacking desserts.

REI = A life saver

Today, REI saved my ass, and lots of money.

After a breakfast of fruit and calorie-filled cinnamon rolls, Daks, Tiffany and I made our way down the coast with Watson in tow. The most professional dog of the whole kennel was dropped off on his own personal vacation, and he whined and wagged his stumpy tail as we walked away.

We stopped in Olympia at REI to purchase all of the items that have turned to dust somewhere in the universe. I sure hope my gear still turns up, but I'm prepared if they do not. I'm ready to roll.

This is why I love REI so damn much: I had a conversation with the manager and she offered a 15% discount on my entire order, plus the 20% on the highest full priced item, and even let me purchase a few garage sale items, which is probably against store policy. Ya see, REI has a garage sale a few times a year; it is  the used gear that has been returned for one reason or another. Their sale isn't for another 2 weeks, but due to my unique situation, I was able to take advantage. Anyway, she was amazing, so I gave her some sugar in the form of a "you saved my ass" hug. Seriously, she saved me $200, I couldn't thank her enough.

We crossed into OR and stuffed our faces in Seaside. I drank a few Hawaiian beers that were brewed with coconut...Mmm, love!

For the first time ever, I sank my feet into the frigid Pacific. Walking down the icy sand to the water, I knew I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. Despite the loss of my beloved gear, and stress I went through to quickly replace it all, I'm relieved I'm on the coast. I'm ready.

I'm taking one more day to decomress; the last few days have been wonderful, but with an undertone of dread. I need to unwind, alone, and reorganize my stuff.

Hello, Oregon, looks like we'll be friends for a while.

Seattle, Poulsbo and a middle finger to the USPS

I heart Seattle. I could definitely live here if I were forced to reside in another time zone. There's plenty of friendly people, and everyone is on bicycles. And it doesn't hurt that the men are easy on the eyes.

My first day on the west coast was spent zipping all around town...well, maybe not zipping since I was on foot. But a true delight, indeed.

Highlights of day 1: the music museum, which featured an awesome Nirvana exhibit of Kurt Cobains smashed guitars and memorabilia, Pikes Market (twice), donuts, a live butterfly exhibit (I made great friends with one), Thai food with Courtney and Josh, and beer with new friends Mike (a friend of Persistent's) and Scott. It was a whirlwind of a day, and with the time change, I was awake for almost 24 hours.

Highlights of day 2: conversations with the chatty bus driver, coffee from Milstead & Co in Fremont, another visit to Pikes Market, the ferry ride to Bainbridge Island (most luxurious ferry I've ever been on!), and lunch on the water with Daks and Tiffany.

Things I've learned so far: it doesn't actually rain all the time in Seattle, it's just often overcast and the sky spits from time to time, Seattle has impressively steep hills for being coastal, gooey ducks (a weird Asian delicacy dug up on the shoreline here) are huge and phallic-like, and naked mole rats are as creepy looking in person as they are in photos.

Daks and Tiffany (and Watson, the pup) are wonderful hosts. I have been driven all over creation, getting things settled for my trip. Unfortunately, a box of my most important and expensive gear is mia. Thanks a lot, USPS. Lost somewhere in America are both racks, panniers, my sleeping bag that holds sentimental value, helmet with my new ear warmers attached, down jacket, bike shoes, crocs, water bladder, top tube bag, rain pants, sleeping pad, and a brand new U lock. I've lost probably $700 worth of stuff. Am I mad? No. But I'm supremely frustrated, and sad about my sleeping bag; my gut says it will all turn up, it's just a matter of when. Plus it's insured, so I'll get refunded if it truly is lost. Thankfully, my dark chocolate peanut butter was in the box that arrived, that makes everything better. Ha!

My plan is to repurchase everything at REI, and if the box shows up, I'll have it mailed back home and deal with it when I return.

This has been a frustrating and bumpy start, but I'm doing my best to roll with it. Something I learned from 6 months of living out of a backpack is that this is all just stuff, and it can all be replaced.

Tomorrow, it's off to REI and Oregon. Big day Sunday! (unless it's pouring, in which I will lie in a hotel bed eating that peanut butter and cursing the postal system)

More soon, after I have demolished my bank account on new gear and rocked my way down the beautiful Oregon coast! Wahoooooo!

(Keep your fingers, toes, and legs crossed that my box arrives before we leave!)

Tick Tock

I leave in less than 2 days.

Life lately has been a whirlwind. Exams are in the bag, I registered for fall classes, financial aid paperwork is complete (in which I'm consistently denied), my bike and belongings have landed safely in Seattle, a birthday/bon voyage party has been had, and a mound of other life things are mostly complete. Today was my last day at work until September.

In the morning I have a meeting, coffee with a friend, still need to put together a book shelf for my mom, change the air filter, organize my bank account and bills, purchase the remainder of my best friends birthday present, and finish laundry. You could say I'm moderately stressed.

Leaving for an extended period is always overwhelming, but once an adventure begins, all stress seems to get swept under the rug until "real" life happens again. That's the beauty of adventure.

Funniest birthday present: hand-knit ear warmers that attach to my helmet

Most thoughtful birthday present: Joan's bicycle charm that she's had for 25 years; she wants to see it cross the country. I feel responsible for this delicate piece of jewelry, and honored to carry it with me.

Last week, I was invited to the home of 2 perfect strangers (and their 2 adorable little boys) for dinner to discuss my plans, and hear about their previous bicycle adventures. Okay, they are not total strangers, but we've never met. Mike's mother and my mother have been friends since highs school, and he biked across the US twice; once solo, and once with his then girlfriend, now wife. It was such a pleasure to share stories with interesting, generous, like-minded folks. We do live in a neat world, filled with extraordinary human beings.

Maybe I'll write from Seattle, maybe I wont. Here goes nothing.

"Make voyages. Attempt them. There's nothing else." -Tennessee Williams

Elefante

That's Elefante, he's my traveling companion.
































The story of Elefante started about 2 summers ago. My friend, Persistent and I, have been meeting in Cook Forest State Park a few times a year; it is our halfway meeting spot between Michigan and New Jersey. The first time we stayed, we rented a room in a cozy rustic lodge. Apparently, the only rooms available were shoe box-sized lovers nests; we laughed, and signed our names. We're hikers and are used to sleeping shoulder to shoulder with strangers, so sharing a double bed with a buddy is no big deal.

The room came furnished with a shiny brass elephant, maybe the size of a softball. For some reason, we both loved that elephant. Later that night, we designated it the official bed separator, shoved it between us, had too many giggles over it (that may or may not have been fueled by wine) and called it a night.

As a joke, P mailed me a plastic elephant. I named him Elefante and placed him on my dashboard, where he's lived happily ever since. And now he's graduated to riding the top tube, where the wind will always be at his face.

I've been told elephants are good luck charms, so I hope Elefante brings lots of it to me.

Trunks up!

Bicycle love

I think they make a cute couple.

Fear

It is fear that often stops us frozen in our tracks, inhibiting us from doing the things we love, or the things we think we'll love.

Do I have fears? Yes. Are they stopping me from living? No. It wouldn't be normal if I didn't feel slightly timid about biking across the US, solo. But I know what the dangers are; It's important to be real with yourself.

My family thinks I'm insane. Of course I'd love to have a cycling partner, but it's not that simple. When I tell someone about my trip, they typically say, "Are you crazy?" I laugh, and think to myself, "Yes, but it's crazier to not live your dreams."

So yes, I may have a few loose screws, but I get to explore this country in ways many people only dream about.

Stop letting fear win. Go have an adventure.