early morning streetlight: seattle
It has been many days and many miles since I posted the last entry in
Seattle.
Once again dependent on public access to computer and internet resources these posting are going get sparse once again so I will try at least to be thorough (read long winded).
To bring you quickly up to date on my current situation I am in forest Grove, OR just taking a couple days to relax and get ready for another week out in the cuts.
This posting is made possible by the generosity of the
Pacific University and its most excellent library facilities.
construction
My main problem with cities is that I get sucked right in. All the luxuries of the modern world at my beck and call, the wealth of people with which to talk with and ease the symptoms of my lonely heart, the surroundings that are so quickly etched in memory only to be abandoned again for the unknown, the sense that once gone I might never come back and if I did it wouldn’t be the same anyway-that is hard to walk (bike) away from. Hence I left Seattle days later than I had intended and even the hour of departure was pushed later and later as I lingered over breakfast, coffee, lunch, coffee until the days was well on its way. I finally caught the ferry to Bremerton in the late afternoon and after navigating my way out of town I was on a small highway heading once again to the coast. I had stopped a gas station outside of Bremerton to pick up a local map but the man behind the counter said since I was on the border of two counties it would take two maps to cover the territory and so they didn’t stock them. What? I would rather have to buy two maps than not have one at all. As usual I managed to find my way without one and as it turned out I spent most of the day riding right alonmg the banks of the Hood Canal until I made it to my intended campground shortly before sunset.
The ride from my campground at Potlatch State Park to Twin Harbors State park was a big one. Somewhere in the neighborhood of 85 miles including a detour into Westport to check out their fishing fleet and dine on some pizza. No desire to cook after a ride like that. The days ride took me along some pretty major freeways (no fun) and once again through Aberdeen (still depressing) and at one point the shoulder completely disappeared due to some construction and I had to walk 2 miles in the grass ( walking is so slow). Needless to say it was sort of a bummer day. Westport was nice though and I stopped and chatted with the construction crews who were real nice folks.
wetlands in bay center
In a move that was probably just an excuse to eat lots of smoked fish I decided to make an attempt to primarily eat locally produced food stuffs. This has come with some difficulty and with a few deviations from the plan but on the whole I have done well and tried things that I normally wouldn’t consider with a camp stove. My crowning dinner has been steamer clams with fresh pasta, and garlic all right out of Bay Center where I camped the next night. The road at this point is much better as I am back to the coast and despite the occasional log truck there is minimal scary traffic. Bay Center was a nice little town and the ride there was only about 40 miles so I took a long stroll down the beach looking out into the long sandy mud flats exposed at low tide with countless blue heron looking for dinner.
little bastard
sunset at cape disappointment
Another pretty easy day landed me on the Washington-Oregon border at cape Disappointment State Park. To date this was the first campsite I paid for and was by far the least desirable. First the hiker/biker site I was directed too was occupied by a backhoe and a large pile of earth and then the site I was moved to was occupied by the boldest pack of raccoons I have ever encountered. Clearly this guy here has lost that nocturnal habit and probably would have taken food from my hand had I been offering (not after my previous encounter). Besides these drawbacks the park was swell. I spent a few hours at the Lewis and clark interpretive center. Quite a journey that group had and what a world that must have been back then. They would be rolling in their graves if they could see what the U.S. did with the Louisiana Purchase. I spent dusk on the beach looking out over the Pacific watching the sun make its way down until the day was spent. Also I did end up getting a spot right on a little lake amongst some nice tall alders with only low grasses as ground cover. With a brisk wind blowing of the lake and through the trees I had a lovely nights sleep as the leaves rustled about me. I did wake up once to maybe three raccoons crawling over my bicycle which I had leaned against a tree just outside the tent. I watched them for a while wondering if they would try and tear open my bags to get at the food inside but after a few minutes sniffing around they left and I went back to sleep. I did put the food into some turkey roasting bags as I was once told that was a suitable medium for mitigating odors.
fort columbia one
fort columbia two
The next day I got an early start for what was one of the most nerve wracking experiences of my life. The ride over the Astoria bridge. Almost four miles long with a serious climb and descent, a shoulder that is at best two and half feet wide, relentless high speed traffic, and not a single place to go-practically broke down and cried after I got off that damn bridge as I was so worked up with expecting to be smashed or sent over the rail at any minute. That said I thought Astoria was a lovely little town. Checked my email at the library (tellingly several locals could not tell me where it was), drank coffee and read magazines at an outdoor café, traded in the incredibly depressing book on Peak Oil for Saul Bellow’s Augie March, and met a lady who offered to let me crash at her house outside of town down amongst the ranches and wetlands. She and her husband (Tory and Dan) were incredibly accommodating and treated me to a salmon dinner and a pancake breakfast, and we watched Survivor and it was oh so pleasant to be a little taken care of for a change. They sent me packing with some dried fruit including some dried Asian pears which were hands down the best dry goods I have ever had.
for lease in astoria
The next day was a long one. I clocked about 95 miles to make it into to Portland in one go. My first rain day so far and with heavy traffic on a major highway it was a bit of a trial. The highlight was walking into a logging tavern wearing spandex shorts, a bright windbreaker, and neoprene booties over my shoes. I got a few looks and I was in a very uncomfortable way throughout my meal (elk burger).
My good friend of many years, longest of my post high school crowd, Jereb had arranged for me to stay with his mother and step father, Gwen and Michael respectively, in Portland so once again I was back amongst the hospitality of others. They have a lovely house and I was delighted to see the setting and people that had a good hand in shaping the character of my good friend. They graciously allowed me to stay two nights with them so I had a good full day to explore Portland. I did not see all that much but I am pleased with what I got out of it. First I spent hours at the City Bikes co-op installing a new rack, checking out bikes, and getting pointers for routes back to the coast. Incredibly nice crew there and helpful beyond my expectations. I went to Powell’s Books and bought Carpenter’s Gothic by Gaddis, which I wanted to read before I read another Bellow book, and sat for a few hours reading and drinking coffee. In the evening I met up with Amber, who I had met in Alaska, and a formidable crew of her friends and their friends to drink beer and ride bikes around. A mix of fixies, single speeds, a stingray cruiser copy, an older Raleigh mixte, and my tourer made from a pretty eclectic mix of cycles. I would have felt a bit cooler atop my faithful Competition, but you know. Besides being bicycle riders, which automatically ingratiates people to me, the folks I met were in general intelligent, socially aware, humorous, stylish, and good looking. Not a bad bag of tricks.
Painted Pipes at the Grand Lodge
Continuing on was once again a serious struggle with inertia and I haven’t even really got the ball rolling. I did make it out of Portland on the light rain to Hillsboro but I only rode a few miles before I stopped and took a room at this old Masonic Lodge turned hotel, a really cool building with all sorts of nooks and crannies and places to explore and cheap. Nice staff which I got to know last night sitting at the bar as the employees came in after their shifts. I thought I would stay another night and spend some time on this blog (these things aren’t easy so you know). So here I am. I will take off tomorrow riding south through the wine country before heading back out to the coast. I guess two to three weeks to get back to Berkeley so it won’t be long now before I am back among you guys that I miss more with each day.
mirror at the grand lodge
