After watching the All Black victory in the kiwi-aussie bar in Seattle, I didn't begin my trip south in the best of conditions. On that Saturday, pitcher after pitcher followed the Badger football game as we mourned the loss and 'prepared' for a house/dance party we'd been invited to. At 12:30am, after more drinks at the party and dancing in the crowded basement, I dipped out and rode over to the bar for the start of the rugby world cup final between France and New Zealand. The bar had reached its capacity, so I found a spot in the crowd outside with a decent view of the game through the word 'Aussie' on the window. The game was relatively uneventful, but painful to watch with the All Blacks barely scraping by to claim the world title 8-7. Getting back to Kaytlyn's with a pint of chocolate ice cream and lying down on the couch at 3:30am would prove to be a poor decision as I woke up a few hours later to find myself still on the couch, hungover, with the pint of now melted ice cream still in my hand which I immediately dumped all over myself. Against all odds, however, I was on the 1:30pm ferry that day, leaving Seattle on my way across the Puget Sound and with nothing in my way to get to San Diego!!! I managed to pedal 50 miles that afternoon before the sun set at 6pm.
The rain that I expected of the Pacific Northwest held off for me and gave me sunny skies. I had a goal set to ride long and hard and get down the coast to where warm weather awaited me. Three 100 mile days was my target; I've done many 'century' rides on the trip, but something has always come up and I've never been able to do two in a row. The Pacific coast proved to be no exception... The high mileage days are difficult, especially now that the sun sets around 6pm every night. It comes down to time spent on the bicycle - the more little rests that I take, the more bakeries and ice cream shops I stop at, the more miles I lose for the day. But I wanted to see as much of the coast as I could while the weather remained good, so I pushed my legs onward. The next day I made it 110 miles to Long Beach, WA, where I finally arrived at a coast with real ocean waves crashing into the sand and I pitched my tent near the water. It was a beautiful night, one of the first nights it wasn't cloudy and the stars were finally visible. Nothing compared to the stars of Montana, but one can't complain about nights spent under the stars on a beach...
The next day found me pedaling across the Colombia River on a 5 mile long bridge into Oregon. I spent some time in a little coffee shop I found in Astoria, the Three Cups Coffee House which roasts its own coffee on premise as the Columbia River Coffee Roaster. After a lengthy stay in the shop enjoying the atmosphere, warm drinks and baked goods, I was in the saddle again with a second century in mind. Alas, as it was getting dark with only 4 miles to complete my century and I was outside of Tillamook (where I stopped for my second ice cream of the day at the famous creamery there). There, a truck pulled up to me offering help and recommending a house to knock on for water. I was soon welcomed into the house and before I knew it was in a hot shower and my exhausted body was falling asleep in one of the comfiest beds of my trip!
On my way to attempted century number three, the beauty of the coast and my worn out body started to slow me down. As I approached 80 miles for the day it was sunset and I found myself biking down a side road out to the coast. The only business with its lights on was "The Flying Dutchman Winery" - a small winery that advertised wine tasting and had its door open. Just around the block from the winery was a small green spot, with a public restroom, and no "no camping" signs, so I figured I had my campsite pretty well figured out. After some conversation inside and being in the right place at the right time, I walked out with a bottle of Pinot Noir to top off my 1.5pint bottle of strong, craft beer I purchased earlier in the day. What evening can go bad when you have a whole bottle of good wine to finish yourself? So I sat in the pretty little green spot and cooked up some shrimp I had from the store with veggies and spices and wine!
More fine weather awaited me the next day and by the end of the day, despite a slower morning, I had 85 miles behind me. I was in Reedsport, OR, with nowhere to stay so decided to give the churches a try. I had heard that if you're ever in need of a spot to crash, a church lawn is a good one to pick. As I biked by the Methodist church, I saw people going inside so decided to see what they thought. I was quickly ushered inside and shown to the kitchen where I could cook my dinner. It was singing worship night and I was invited to join in. I found myself in a position I never expected to be; singing 'Jesus' songs with elderly folks in a church. I don't think of myself as a 'follower' of Jesus and hence, not a christian, so some of the lyrics were hard to sing out... but then again, I reasoned, I sing along to vulgar and trashy songs that offend me when I think about them, but with a little filter the songs become alright. I was welcomed into my first church of the trip and had a great spot for my tent outside on the lawn, and was questioned by the church goers, 'where do you sleep when you don't sleep at churches???'
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Sunday, October 30, 2011
On the Road again...
...I just can't wait to get on the road again. Since leaving Vancouver about 2 weeks ago, life on the road has resumed its event-filled pace. Evan and I took the ferry to Vancouver Island, not arriving to Nanaimo until quite late because we missed our initial ferry. Instead of hitting the road, we had to instead head out in search of a Nanaimo Bar - a chocolate cookie based with a vanilla custard filling and melted chocolate on top. When we asked at the natural food store where the best place to find these coveted treats was, we were directed to an ice cream store which sold the Nanaimo Bar Sundae - nanaimo bar ice cream with the chocolatey bars stuck in the top. Our insides were reeling post-sundae experience and we quickly looked for a place to stay in town.
We found ourselves on the edge of a lake at a boat launch in a small park. There was just enough shade from the trees, shrubs and nearby forest to convince us to pitch a tent there for the night and wake up early so as not to get 'caught.' We were told, however, that a fenced in area about 1/2 mile away from us around the lake was the provincial penetentiary facility - a large jail/prison from which we could hear announcements over the loudspeakers on a sporadic basis. The fence in front of the forest held a sign "no trespassing, motion detection system in place." Throughout that long night, every stick that cracked from the forest between us and the prison, every rustle in the woods, was the sound of a recently escaped inmate, on the verge of running into our tent and taking advantage of the first sign of the outside that he ran into.
I spent 3 more nights on the island, trying to see as much as I can but with an overwhelming feeling about me of the need to get south to warm weather. Evan left due to knee pains, so I was left to my own thoughts of warm San Diego beaches and a daily weather forecast of 70 and sunny, trying not to think of the rain and cold I would have to brave before then. Fortunately, the weather treated me spectacularly on the island, and I managed to make it south to Seattle to stay with Kaytlyn and Ely just in time for the beginning of the rain.
I still made time for distractions, however, and found myself on Whidby Island, about 40 miles north of Seattle, at a farm in front of a sign that read "Community Potluck 19, Everyone Welcome 5pm." I looked at my watch, and indeed it was the 19th, approaching 4pm. I stopped at the little cafe to get a piece of pie and inquire about the potluck and was invited with welcoming arms. What I discovered was an amazing community powered food system, wonderful people, and a table-full of homemade chili, quiches, curries, salads, pies, cookies, home-grown veggies and meats... too much for a room full of about 50 people to eat (even if there was a bike tourist there)!!!
Greenbank Farm is a community owned organic farm that supports an apprenticeship program - an intense 7 month course of study in all things related to starting, running, and managing a small organic farm - weekly CSA baskets to community members, and several small shops including a cafe, pie, cheese and wine shops. I was stunned at the wealth of friendly people and incredible community that the community farm was able to create with its focus on fresh, local, organic food. That night I was welcomed into the home of Ed and Carol who lived on a couple of acres with their chickens, cattle, dog and cat, and large vegetable garden. Conversations ensued about my route down the pacific coast, global water problems and the future of water consumption around the nation, and the Occupy Wall Street movement which appears the historically recurrent struggle of the poor vs. the rich; the fight against greed.
Although the road was becoming more and more interesting, and the wealth of community that I had just discovered at the farm re-ignited my urge to continue my travels - to stay outdoors on my bicycle and see the world inspite of the cold, I was happy to finally arrive in Seattle. I had decided to go straight to highway 101 and stay on the coast for my entire trip south - bypassing cities that I still want to see such as Eugene, Portland, and Corvalis. It's the rural life, small towns, artisans and farmers that I have appreciated the most on my trip. Although cities draw me in with their promises of food, site-seeing, and 'culture,' it's much easier to experience real life, real culture, and real food in the small towns.
Yet, Seattle drew me in for 3 days, and through my great hosts, showed me its beauty though the sun never really showed its face. Although its hills were daunting for riding a bike, and rainy days were ominous, bicycle commuters were out and about and the city was enjoyable to get around in on two wheels - inspite of the charged politics against bicycles and the difficutly in promoting bicycles as a sensible form of transportation that Willie Weir talked about. Ely and Kaytlyn treated me to a TGR premier, "One for the Road," with Ian McIntosh and Dana Flahr, as well as a salmon bake (so many different kinds of cooked salmon!), and the Badger's depressing hail mary loss to MI State (win or lose, we still b....). At least the All Blacks won the rugby world cup.
Biking down the Oregon coast has had its own plethora of stories... currently in Bandon, OR almost to California.
We found ourselves on the edge of a lake at a boat launch in a small park. There was just enough shade from the trees, shrubs and nearby forest to convince us to pitch a tent there for the night and wake up early so as not to get 'caught.' We were told, however, that a fenced in area about 1/2 mile away from us around the lake was the provincial penetentiary facility - a large jail/prison from which we could hear announcements over the loudspeakers on a sporadic basis. The fence in front of the forest held a sign "no trespassing, motion detection system in place." Throughout that long night, every stick that cracked from the forest between us and the prison, every rustle in the woods, was the sound of a recently escaped inmate, on the verge of running into our tent and taking advantage of the first sign of the outside that he ran into.
I spent 3 more nights on the island, trying to see as much as I can but with an overwhelming feeling about me of the need to get south to warm weather. Evan left due to knee pains, so I was left to my own thoughts of warm San Diego beaches and a daily weather forecast of 70 and sunny, trying not to think of the rain and cold I would have to brave before then. Fortunately, the weather treated me spectacularly on the island, and I managed to make it south to Seattle to stay with Kaytlyn and Ely just in time for the beginning of the rain.
I still made time for distractions, however, and found myself on Whidby Island, about 40 miles north of Seattle, at a farm in front of a sign that read "Community Potluck 19, Everyone Welcome 5pm." I looked at my watch, and indeed it was the 19th, approaching 4pm. I stopped at the little cafe to get a piece of pie and inquire about the potluck and was invited with welcoming arms. What I discovered was an amazing community powered food system, wonderful people, and a table-full of homemade chili, quiches, curries, salads, pies, cookies, home-grown veggies and meats... too much for a room full of about 50 people to eat (even if there was a bike tourist there)!!!
Greenbank Farm is a community owned organic farm that supports an apprenticeship program - an intense 7 month course of study in all things related to starting, running, and managing a small organic farm - weekly CSA baskets to community members, and several small shops including a cafe, pie, cheese and wine shops. I was stunned at the wealth of friendly people and incredible community that the community farm was able to create with its focus on fresh, local, organic food. That night I was welcomed into the home of Ed and Carol who lived on a couple of acres with their chickens, cattle, dog and cat, and large vegetable garden. Conversations ensued about my route down the pacific coast, global water problems and the future of water consumption around the nation, and the Occupy Wall Street movement which appears the historically recurrent struggle of the poor vs. the rich; the fight against greed.
Although the road was becoming more and more interesting, and the wealth of community that I had just discovered at the farm re-ignited my urge to continue my travels - to stay outdoors on my bicycle and see the world inspite of the cold, I was happy to finally arrive in Seattle. I had decided to go straight to highway 101 and stay on the coast for my entire trip south - bypassing cities that I still want to see such as Eugene, Portland, and Corvalis. It's the rural life, small towns, artisans and farmers that I have appreciated the most on my trip. Although cities draw me in with their promises of food, site-seeing, and 'culture,' it's much easier to experience real life, real culture, and real food in the small towns.
Yet, Seattle drew me in for 3 days, and through my great hosts, showed me its beauty though the sun never really showed its face. Although its hills were daunting for riding a bike, and rainy days were ominous, bicycle commuters were out and about and the city was enjoyable to get around in on two wheels - inspite of the charged politics against bicycles and the difficutly in promoting bicycles as a sensible form of transportation that Willie Weir talked about. Ely and Kaytlyn treated me to a TGR premier, "One for the Road," with Ian McIntosh and Dana Flahr, as well as a salmon bake (so many different kinds of cooked salmon!), and the Badger's depressing hail mary loss to MI State (win or lose, we still b....). At least the All Blacks won the rugby world cup.
Biking down the Oregon coast has had its own plethora of stories... currently in Bandon, OR almost to California.
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