hobolog :: US Perimeter Tour

Near Newport, OR

Underway at 8:45 – a little after the folks from Denmark and before the folks from Boulder had even left the tent. Legs felt wobbly, took a while to get into it. All day on 101 today. Good road & courteous drivers most of the time, but the constant traffic made riding less enjoyable. So I would ride like hell, stop to explore things of interest, then go again. Made lots of miles that way.

Had low clouds with occasional light rain all day. Developed the two-finger windshield-wiper technique. Air was warm, never got uncomfortable. Expect more rain.

First flat tire – a puncture from a twisted-up piece of wire. Repairs took about ten minutes.

Learned about Jedediah Smith, watched a bunch of Harbor Seals play in the surf, marveled at the sand dunes, and went through my first tunnel.

I read and think about the explorers who found ar named these places, their quest for a Northwest Passage, their commercial endeavors. I long to see a great sailing vessel on the sea sometime.

I’m starting to need more food. The grocery bills will go up.

I can never believe how long the downhills are. It never seems like I could possibly have climbed as much. Each one is a pleasant surprise, and the hours of the day pass quickly as I go from one to the next.

Near Tillamook, OR

Great day! I thought I was relaxing – I can hardly believe how many miles I did! Broke camp wet at 8:30 during a short break in the rain. My first night or rain was fine – no leaks. It’s hard on the bike tho – chain & other parts begin to rust. Must remember to lube before riding tomorrow.

Starting off in full rain gear, legs felt tender & I determined to take it easy. I just puttered along. Stopped to learn about fishing vessels, jetties, longshore currents, and forest management techniques. Loved every minute of time off 101 today. Just pooped along, no exertion (almost).

Caught up to a couple of northbound Germans, Mike and another Forker, who were riding even more leisurely than me. They’d been touring Utah, Ariz., Nev., CA, now going to Seattle. I followed them to Lincoln City, where they stopped for food.

Then came one of the best treats of the trip so far: an old section of a previous 101 that twists and climbs through a lush forest of Sitka Spruce and Western Hemlock. Mossy, overgrown, silent, no traffic. I rode through by myself, very slowly, feeling like I’d stumbled onto the secret road into the heart of an Elvish kingdom. I hated for it to come to an end.

The next detour went through a strange land of dunes, bare sand and thick forest. Sometimes the dunes spread out, open, right from the road, and sometimes the hemlocks formed a tight tunnel over the road. After another slow 1000’ climb, it was fun going 35 mph down the curvy road through the forest-tunnels.

At camp I talk with a hippie named Marty about how we craft our own lifestyle while touring – him having a heavy but luxurious all-weather camp setup. Pulls a custom-made trailer. Then the second Forker wandered over (having pulled into camp after me) to look at my bike. They are kids just out of the German, army, paying for their tour with unemployment checks before continuing their education. Case in point. They’re having a ball.

Near Seaside, OR

Was ready to go about the same time as Marty, so we started together. My first time riding w/ someone at length, slmost all day. He was a little slower (& heavier) than me, but a pretty good match.

We started in light rain that soon became a downpour. My rain jacket leaks – it needs to be re-waterproofed. It soon let up though and the rest of the day was mostly cloudy with very little rain. I alternate from being wet to dry, hot to cold, all day.

We did some nice roads: forest, rural dairy farmers, fishermen. In Tillamook we toured the cheese factory, bringing the complex, industrialized, massive, and often ingenious workings of our society to the front of my mind. I was amazed that all that cheese would be sold, that all that intricate machinery is profitable. The tour is designed as a factory as well, where tourists shuffle through in well-planned patterns and money is extracted at various points. Nothing tempts us strongly enough though, and we exit through the faulty consumer line.

Another nice rural detour off 101, and we’re soon at the state park where Marty plans to camp. I feel like putting in a few more miles, so we part ways. He gives me his address in Arcata for when I finish.

I continue, knowing there are no state park campgrounds ahead. About 6 PM I start to scout for possible campsites off the road. There are all sorts of little roads and paths taking off from the highway if you pay attention. A couple are no good, but the third leads to an old blocked-off paved road that is totally overgrown. It’s a strange sight, in places the old road is a solid bed of mass and grass. It takes a while to find a dry spot for the tent. Finally I stake the back to the old road shoulder, put the tent on a patch of grass, and tie the front to the bike. It’s lop-sided, but will have to do.

Cooking with dry milk for the first time in a while I burn it, spill it on my stove, and have to eat my Alfredo with black chunks. I leave the pot to clean tomorrow.

My first package pick-up in Astoria tomorrow. Hope all goes well. Might be tough w/ 4th of July weekend upon me to find a room.

Near Astoria, OR

Had to break camp in medium-heavy rain today. Several downpours through the morning.

Seaside is one of the nicest towns I’ve seen – must be very wealthy. Beautiful homes along a great wide beach. A fair place to bid the Pacific farewell.

Wide awake while riding through the hills, watching the rain fall on the forests and fields. A family watched a young colt learning to run beside its mother.

Came into Astoria alongside a huge freighter on the Columbia, we passed the long Astoria bridge together.

Drying things out in the hotel room, got the package ok. Doing laundry, I worked up the guts to make conversation with a stunning blonde woman. She was preparing for a backpack trip, loved distance hiking, loved the mountains. The woman of my dreams. Kirah Solomon. I all but proposed to her. She followed her boyfriend to Astoria from Colorado.

Near Castle Rock, WA

I meant for this to be an easy day. Now I’m exhausted.

I did manage to send the package, using the back door of the PO again. Yippie!

Didn’t find a place to get online – holiday. So I took off. It poured on me, re-wetting my newly dried gear, and I pounded back a few miles during that.

Had lunch waiting for the ferry. That was fun. Saw the Hyundai Commander freighter making way.

The County Line campground I had scoped out was packed and not too nice. So I pushed on, into more rain and no camping opportunities. Finally I gave up and headed for the nearest state park. I made it – good night.

Near Centralia, WA

Still cloudy & moist this morning, packed up wet. Stopped @ the Mt. St. Helens visitor center, but tho the sky was clearing, clouds clung to the mtn. Thinking I had missed my chance to see it, I headed back down to the route.

The sky cleared and the day became beautiful. Riding started to feel very good.

I was thinking of some semi-lucid dreams I had had during the night where I tried successfully to fly and unsuccessfully to have sex.

After crossing I-5, coming down a little hill, I spotted two deer crossing the road ahead. One was across, the other looking at me. I froze. Coasting downhill I made no noise. She didn’t know what to think of it, and watched until was very close. The she leapt across the road, right in front of me. Almost over me. And was gone over the fence and into the trees.

The route took me to some tiny farm roads with no traffic. Up ahead I saw a large bird soaring with a white tail. And a white head. Bald Eagle – just removed from the endangered spec. list. It swooped into a tree by the road where I got a good look at it. It looked too big to be a bird, more like a pterodactyl. Then I noticed another one swoop out of the tree. I felt it was female, I don’t know why. I thought I might have heard the screeching of eaglets. As she soared off, I followed.

As I came around the bend I noticed something wrong with the sky ahead. I stopped when I realized what it was – a huge, snowy, towering mountain sticking up over lush green pastures. Mt. Raineer, of course. First time I’ve seen it. Before long, St. Helens and some of the other, lower Cascades come into view as well. Those incredible volcanoes just steal your breath.

As I pedal down the sunny way, I pass a funky little airport with a sign for a skydiving school. My flying dream comes back to me as I go on. What a great day to be skydiving. And think of all the mountains you could see. I stop. I couldn’t possibly afford it could I? I can barely afford to eat! But it can’t hurt to ask. I turn around.

After a little confused searching I find the school’s owner gassing up the plane. Mike – boisterous and friendly. $155 for a tandem dive, too much. $145 to trtrain and static-line, still too much. $20 to ride along without jumping – just right. I go off to sign the requisite liability waiver.

I feel totally comfortable in Mike’s hangar – a little messy, humourous, old couches and chairs strewn around, sky divers of all sorts milling about, another friendly employee, Dave, to set me up with papers & coffee.

The excitement of the dream comes back as we take off. I’m surprised after the first student jumps how much I really would love to throw my body out into space as well. Another student jumps, then I get in the best spot to watch Dave. He falls backwards, facing us, then twists into a wicked dive. He gets smaller fast. I think I see him spread into an arch. It seems like he’s been falling a long time. Finally his chute blooms like a little flower.

Just Mike & I left in the plane, he points Mt. Hood, Jefferson, St. Helens, Adams, Raineer, and the Olympic Range. Incredible to see them all at once. The he does a barrel roll for me. Woo-hoo! Well worth the price of admission, Mike.

I’m just getting around to thinking how well a cucumber would go with my lunch collection, having pedaled a ways further, when I pass a guy selling produce by the road. $0.45 for a fresh cucumber and a big Washington apple. I make cucumber, peanut-butter, cream cheese sandwiches with cinnamon-raisin English muffins – yum. I need them for a couple of brutally steep hills that follow.

In Centralia they want $8 for a crappy tent site. It’s too much – I decide to push on & look for off-road sites. I have to go a few miles, but the first prospective side road delivers the goods: a concealed, un-hostile (no KEEP OUT signs) site a decent ways from the road. There are swarms of mosquitos but they don’t seem to be biting. Much. Guess they haven’t reached blood-lust stage yet.

New tree is the Douglas Fir. They get huge in old-growth forests here.

Matches don’t work, lighter dead, so it’s fudge grahams for dinner. Not too hungry at least.

Near Bremerton, WA

Holy shit! I had no idea I did almost 100 miles today. Wow. Guess that’s what a little tailwind can do.

Now that I think about it, I just enjoyed riding today. More sun, not hard to make a good clip. Missed a couple of turns w/ no serious consequences. Saw a lot of second growth forest and clearcuts. And some great views of the Olympic Palisades, over the Hood Inlet especially.

Bremerton, I suspect, is spillover from Seattle. There’s no bridge, but a big ferry, and it has a very urban feel for a town of 38,000. Overpasses, buses, hip-hop blaring from cars. I won’t be sad to leave it.

Ilahee State Park isn’t bad – thick trees offer some insulation from the city. Also, the urban feel disappears pretty fast around the city limits.

My contacts in the area are both out of reach: my phone #’s for both Jim Carbone and Michelle Petersen are out of date. I’ll probably miss them as I’ll be close to Anacortes tomorrow.

Near Clinton, WA

On the way out of town I pass library & decide to stop to do some work on the net. I get on no prob, do my late Astoria report, talk to Nathan, find Jim’s real phone # & leave a message, look his address up on the map, and update the web site. It’s 11:00 by the time I get going again.

I entertain myself making Captain’s announcements to an imaginary crew & passengers. I sing Tom Waits songs real loud.

A cloudy cool day. After crossing the Hood Canal bridge I run into a big round guy with porkchop sideburns clearing a small field. He’s had 3 recumbents, newest one an aluminum Gold Rush, previous 2 handed down to his kids.

At Port Townsend I wait for the ferry – Jim still doesn’t pick up the phone.

On the ferry a guy with a bushy gray beard starts talking to me about the bike. A question or two and he starts telling me about his life. Missionary parents in Chicago, childhood in S. Africa, med. school at U of Illinois, specializing in surgery. I notice he has surgeon’s hands, like my grandfather. I tell him a little about Grandpa. He says, “I once worked with a Ralph Blocksma…” “That’s him,” I smile. “No…” Dr. Howard Christoferson tells me few stories, about his love of surgery and the snooty doctors who denied him opportunities to practice. He seems to feel abused by the surgeon’s Old Boy network. He implicates a Dr. Greely who operated with Grandpa, but I can’t help wondering if Grandpa slighted him and he switched names in the story. The other stories all have the same theme. As the ferry docks he gives me his card & we part ways.

One last call & Jim is home. He’s having a dinner party, & invites me to join. I laugh. A dinner party after three days without a shower. His house is 25 miles away, so I’ll be a little late.

A nice ride across Whidby Island. I pull into Jim’s carport, a beautiful house surrounded by cedars & bigleaf maples. The little sign at his door requests guests to remove their shoes, & I immediately wince at the stinky thought. I knock, give Jim a sweaty hug, & explain that a little time in the bathroom is needed to make the transition to dinner party. Obliged.

The guests are a German psychic and her American electrician husband, a Zen monk and Jim’s neighbor & lover Deborah. Oh, and a lively Italian restaurant chef, Guiseppe. It’s hard to take my attention from the fresh salad, lasagna, and beer, but I learn a little about each guest & discuss my trip a bit. The German lady is full of good stories, and Guiseppe is full of laughs. The Zen monk says hardly anything, asks for nothing, and eats whatever is put in front of him (including ice cream, strawberries, & banana bread). Mostly fun.

Went for a nice walk around the local forest. Recognized red cedars, bigleaf maple, western hemlock, black huckleberry, sword fern, salmon berry, boysenberry, Douglas fir. Didn’t recognize one fern with lots o’ little leaves and a tall deciduous tree. Felt some stinging nettles. Ouch!

At the house cooked eggs, did laundry, tuned bike.

Near Oak Harbor, WA

Tried to take Jim, Debra & her kids to breakfast but only Jim let me pay, & he didn’t have much.

Went to the bike shop, Velocity Cycles, and they treated me great, letting me use tools & giving me pointers. I got my smaller climbing gear, some extra cables, replaced my middle chainring, and cleaned the chain. They gave me some dry lube for free, which I used once and lost after forgetting to zip a pocket. Duh. Also got a bike map of the island & decided on a longer but safer & more scenic route back north.

It was after 7 PM when I got to Deception Pass, so I camped at the state park here. Ran into an English guy traveling by bus & train w/ a backpack, Steve. A little cynical, but I enjoy giving him rides on the bike and spending the evening with him. He talks a little too much, but we have a lot in common. I help him out with a little food & my camp gear – he’s not as well equipped for camping. We down a couple pints of Beck’s on the beach as the sun goes down. Was that a killer whale that surfaced way out there?

So didn’t start east at all today. Tomorrow.

People have been admiring & encouraging about my endeavor – feels good.