Blog 13

I got a day off somewhere, this was actually the real July 3

July 3

   We now had some interesting decisions to make. Danny had friends in Portland, and he wanted to try and make it there by the 4th for a party/BBQ. We were somewhere in the vicinity of 240 miles away, and had no clue how we were going to pull it off in 2 days. However, ingenuity alway triumphs, and Danny sweet talked his host into waking up at 6:00 and giving us a ride out of the city. We met at 6:30, and I figured out how to stuff my bike into a trunk already fully occupied by one bicycle while Danny bought some food. 30 minutes later, we thanked the lady, yanked our stuff into a disorderly heap on the side of the road, and started putting our bicycles back together. I'm kind of drawing a blank as to what the morning was like, other than there was a headwind and we joined the Columbia river. Because we were now back on an ACA route, we passed lots of cyclists who were, of course, enjoying their tailwind. They also said that we might get a bit of relief when we actually got into the Columbia river gorge, as the trees would help to block the wind. 

   We made it a few more miles, and then decided to once again resort to motorized transportation. Hitchhiking was actually pretty easy, and we scored another ride with an elderly couple on their way to see a movie. The husband happened to work for a power company, and the windmills that we drove past provided me with an interesting conversation topic. I asked about everything from their economic feasibility to his opinion, and 45 minutes went by almost without me noticing. 

   They dropped us off in yet another town, and we took over a picnic table in a gas station's lawn for an hour to eat and figure stuff out. 

   We were still way too far away from Portland to even consider making it there by bicycle that night, so we came to the conclusion that we would do whatever we could to get another ride, and if that didn't happen we would fall asleep wherever we happened to be and ride the rest of the way in the morning. 

   After riding a bit more, we got a ride with a pair of women who were returning from a day of kite surfing. Probably due to the wind, this portion of the Columbia was quite popular for kite boarding and wind surfing. We enjoyed watching them, and were amazed at how fast they could go. The kite ladies had a sprinter van, which was outfitted to be the perfect outdoor recreation vehicle. It also happened to be perfect for picking up tired cyclists, and loading our bikes onboard was almost too easy. They gave us a ride to Hood River, where their route deviated from ours. 

   Hood river seemed like a nice place, and also appeared to be surf central. Dozens and dozens of brightly colored sails dotted the sky, and their owners dangled below and skittered across the waves. Hood River was on the Oregon side, and we decided to cross back over to the Washington side. As we did, the sun began to set, and a scene beyond discription emerged. Once we reached the other side, we biked away from the bridge and both stopped on the shoulderless road, staring. The setting sun lit up snowy Mount Hood with an orangish glow, and rocky patches stood out against the illuminated white. The city was spread across the oppsite river bank, with trees mingled densely in around the buildings and streets. Closer yet, the same sunlight that shone on Mt. Hood was also caught by the kite board sails, and they turned the air over the river into a sea of miniature  rainbows.   

   We wandered around a bit, and then tried to hitch another ride, and then it got dark and we fell asleep 30 feet off the road. 

July 4

   Okay, this was it. We had 70 miles or so to go, and we both blew the first part by sleeping in past the 5:00 start we'd planned. The wind was still howling, and the morning ride was miserable. We did see something quite interesting, almost cool enough to make up for the wind. I had noticed smoke in the distance, and as we got closer we could see that it was a small forest fire. An old pickup full of buff looking firefighters zoomed past us, and a pair of helicopters buzzed around, making laps from the river to the fire site, which appeared to be a 1/2 mile or so from the road. One of the helicopters actually hovered right above to us, and slowly lowered its water bucket (probably a correct term) into the water next to us. We sat and stared, and the pilot even waved as the the helicopter rose skyward. 

   There was another bridge at the city of Cascade Locks, and we decided to cross back into Oregon and see if we'd have better luck in that side. And better luck we found, in the form of the Columbia river historic highway. Built sometime around 1915, it was one of the most advanced roadways of its time, but as automotive technology advanced quickly, it became outdated. Now, there are portions of it that are open to traffic, but other stretches are bike only. The woods we rode through were shockingly pretty, even to the degree that I grudgingly admitted that they might be almost as nice as Idaho. Unfortunately, the roadway was packed with holiday traffic, which detracted from the enjoyment I would have gotten from the road's natural beauty. 

   The roadway actually climbed out of the gorge, but because the grade never exceeded 5% the climb wasn't unpleasant at all. There was an observatory at the top, where we stopped and took some pictures. The whole area was packed with people, and it made me realize how much I've come to appreciate solitude. In Idaho, where I didn't see another soul for whole days, there was a strange energy and peace I got from being in the middle of such awesome creation by myself. With no other distractions, it was far easier for me to pay attention to my surroundings, not to just see them visually, but to think about what I was seeing and absorb every bit of it. 

   Now, I was standing over the best view I'd seen the whole trip, and within 50 feet of me there was a car alarm going off, several children making a racket, and probably 100 other people milling around. The tourist mindset hovered heavily in the air, and it was so appalling I almost revolted at the idea of taking pictures to disconnect myself from these people as much as possible.

   I was anxious to get away ASAP, and managed to drag Danny away from the railing and onto his bike. After a few more minutes of climbing, we started the descent, which sloped gradually all the way to Portland. Now quite away from the river, we snaked through small towns and festivals celebrating our country's birthday. 

   By this point, I was starting to feel rather unwell. I've been dealing with a fairly severe cold, and probably hadn't eaten or drank enough during the day. Danny's and my eating habits had clashed a bit, and I had given in for the day and not really eaten any real meals. I'd met other people who were like that, and seemed to be able to ride all day off nothing more than a few granola bars and some peanut butter. I, on the other hand, view my body the same way I view my bike, as a machine thet requires proper care to function to its fullest potential. I care for my bike by cleaning and lubricating the chain, adjusting the cables, and keeping the tires properly inflated. In return, my bike carries my smoothly and efficiently without breaking down. In the same way, I need to have enough sleep, three 800+ calorie meals and snacks, and stretch for 20 minutes daily. Other people either don't listen to what their bodies are asking for, ignore what they hear, or maybe can just function on vey little maintenance. Whatever, I'm not one of those people. 

   So by 5:00 or so, I was not only feeling the effects of my decisions for the day, but was also a bit ticked at Danny for always pushing ahead. 

   Nevertheless, we were now in the residential outskirts of Portland, and after a pair of deep fried burritos at some gas station I felt like I could make it the final 8 miles to where Danny's friend lived. 

   We did finally find the correct apartment building, and proceeded to eat as much as we could off the grill and chat with the people at the party. 

   As it got dark out, we headed out to Portland's steel bridge to watch fireworks, and then headed back to the apartment. Danny had found a couchsurfing host who was willing to keep us for a few nights, and to tell the truth I didn't really connect well with Danny's friend and was looking forward to getting out of the place. Imagine my horror, then, when the friend offered to let us stay the  night, which Danny accepted without any resistance. Thinking fast, I mentioned that there wasn't really much room, (which there wasn't) and that it would just be easier for me to stay with the couchsurfing people. After getting a phone number from Danny, I found that the lady had just gotten home from a party and was planning on going to bed, but that she'd be happy to leave the door unlocked for me. I was only mildly surprised at this gesture of trust, and had no qualms about accepting the offer. An hour later I had found the dark house, walked in the front door, and fallen asleep on the futon. 

June 5

   It had been a late night, so I didn't really wake up until 9:00. As I woke up, a young lady with curly brown  hair and a dark tan walked in and sat down next to me. "Are you Tara?" I asked, referring to the couchsurfing lady I'd been texting the previous evening. She replied that no, she was Audie, Tara's housemate. It turned out that there were four people living in the house. Audie had a young daughter, Caroline, and there was a third housemate, Joe. Both Tara and Joe were going to be gone all day, but Audie offered to show me around Portland. It took us a while to get going, and I got the see a bit more of the house and backyard/garden. Everybody in the house payed a lot of attention to what they ate and were it came from, and the organic garden was part of how they lived out their ideas. Nobody had a car, either, so after Caroline was strapped into her seat we both pedaled the 4 miles or so into downtown Portland, with a stop to drop off some tomato plants. 

   Stop one was ----, the worlds largest bookstore. 5 floors of books about anything you could possibly imagine, from photography to anthropology. Even though it was such a massive collection of books, the store somehow managed to retain a very personal, non-chain feel. Instead of boring monotony, their was a variety of different floor surfaces, wall colors, and bookshelves. Handwritten notes littered the shelves, giving recommendations and advice as to best picks. It was the sort of store I could get lost in for days, but there was still more of Portland to see. 

   From ----, we went to a pizza place called Sizzle Pie. Audie and Caroline, both vegan, ordered some strange pizza, but I went for classic pepperoni.  After we were done, we headed back home, but by a different route that allowed me to see some more city. After slouching around a bit, Audie mentioned she'd been on the hunt for a bicycle trailer, and had found one on Craigslist that was only a few blocks away. Off we headed, and after minor navigational troubles successfully located the right house. The guy selling the trailer was very nice, and made very sure to show us all the trailer's insignificant blemishes before Audie got out any cash. While the guy moved on to helping attach the trailer to Audie's bike, I talked with his wife about the chickens they happened to have in a tidy little coop in their yard. 

   With the day pretty much shot, we cooked some dinner and relaxed with good conversation. The only other incident of note was meeting Joe, who turned out to a. Have a sweet mustache, and b. seem like a really cool guy. 

July 6

   Okay, I have a confession to make. I saw the Pacific before I biked to it. In the morning, Joe, Audie, Caroline, one of Joe's friends, Winona, and I all crammed into Winona's car and headed for the beach. After a quick stop at New Seasons, the grocery store of choice, we were off on the 1.5 hour drive to Seaside. The temperature difference between the coast and Portland was quite pronounced, and the misty air didn't make things feel any warmer. Fortunately, we had brought enough warm clothing, but apparently so had throngs of other people, and we decided to hike down the shore a ways to where things weren't quite so crowded. 

   We pretty much spent the whole afternoon there, with the occasional wander into town. Joe and I both sneaked off on the excuse of fetching something from the car, but the intent of finding some food. Success in the form of some sandwiches didn't stop all of us from later visiting a restaurant for some excellent clam chowder. With a quick stop for fudge and coffee, we were ready for the drive home. 

   

Riding down a canyon in Washington. 

The Washington desert. Incredibly awful. 

I'm pretty sure that this is the first glimpse we got of the Columbia. 

The helicopter. 

The sunset on mount hood. 

One of the 5 or so tunnels we rode through in the Columbia river gorge. 

More river. 

This was actually part of the bike trail. See that tiny groove off the the side of the steps? It's for pushing your bike up to the top. Do you have any idea how hard it is to push a 90 lb. bike up stairs?

This was horsetail falls, right off the historic highway.