Aaaaa....storia, at last.

Aug 30

Sam approaching the Lewis & Clark river bridge and Astoria.

Tagged Astoria in August, just barely but it counts! I'm amazed at how similar the town is to Yorktown.  Both on a major river tributary just before the ocean, both have a hilly district, both kinda small, both have a phallic statue overlooking the waterfront....interesting.

We left Tillamook (home of dairy and jerky products) early and was happy to get away.  It's a nice little town but stinks (see above reference to cows).  It reminded me of towns gone by in Kansas...yes, I'm talking about you, Larned, but without the oppressive heat.

Anyway, we decided to make a day of it and get this thing done. So away we went and went.  I knew it would take a while because we had two good sized hills (for this area) and alot of scenery to try our best view at speed.

About 3pm we stopped in at Cannon Beach and ran into a little 'bumble foot'...this is what I call a trap that you can get yourself out of but will be time consuming.  Allow me to explain: Cannon Beach  is a little touristy town about 2 1/2 bicycle hours from Astoria that has one main strip and lots of upscale shops...therefore, lots of upscale shoppers on a long late summer weekend holiday.  But before that and all the rest that happened, we stopped in at a coffee/bakery shop that I really should have avoided just for the name "Waves of Grain"....but I was interested in a quick espresso to keep us moving on.  I went in and once it was established that their snack selection did not extend to gluten free items (surprise!) ordered a 20 ounce (we were sharing) soy mocha. The barista says (and I am not joking here):  "One of the ports is broken and I can only  make a 16 ounce.  Is that okay?"....Is that okay?  uuuuhhhh...no.  It doesn't seem that hard to draw another shot from the working port.....but I'm no barista.

SO...I say, "sure" then I pass over the travel credit card.  She takes it in the fingers of both hands, turns a little then turns back to me and says, "Our minimum order for cards is $5.00".

Let's stop here momentarily because I need to draw attention to two things:

1. The overpriced drink I was waiting for costs $4.50

2. The overpriced drink I actually wanted would have cost at least $5.00.

I must have subconsciously rolled my eyes, because she became very animated, apologized profusely.  Outside, Sam had caught the attention of two Scottish retirees.  They were talking about elastaplasters....can you believe it....bandaids! as ambulance sirens go by.  Uh oh..this could mean a traffic stoppage ahead. Down the way we discovered that the emergency was happening on a side road; that's good.  You know the old saying, "Your emergency is not my emergency".  We rolled on and just out of town (and up a hill) we met up with Weston riding a Surly Cross Check.  He passed, as the young guys always do, and had disappeared in the foreground when he suddenly reappeared around a bend.

What happened next is best explained in two voices…Sam adds his in italics below.

He was off bike and tinkering with the back end. In some amazing way, his rear derailluer had repositioned itself upside down, backwards and above the chainstay...totally where it should not be.  This happens when the rear derailleur moves too close to the spokes of the rear wheel. The bike falling onto the drive side or some other impact (always from the outside to the inside) to the rear derailleur is enough to bend it inward so that, in the lowest gear, it makes contact with the spokes… suddenly and without warning.  Sometimes the rider is lucky and there is just some noise and you figure out what is wrong. What loomed ahead on the roadside was, however, the worst case scenario.  Now think about this for a minute folks, a simple bump to a fragile piece of metal hanging very low on a vehicle can completely destroy the most expensive part of the drive train and possible the rear wheel. Shame on the bike industry for making such a hazardous oversight! 

But wait… the industry has a simple solution to this problem that they apply to every new bicycle.  It is called the pie pan, a small disc of plastic that rides between the cassette and the spokes to prevent the derailleur from making contact with the spokes.  Why then, does this still happen?  Fashion! It has become very unfashionable to have a “pie pan” on your bicycle.  True,  for the ultralight cyclist who can check the alignment of their derailleur at home every night and never leaves their bicycle propped outside a store while getting groceries, going pie pan free is a statement of how minimalist they can be. Adhering to fashion can get a tourist in deep trouble many miles from help. 

Justin was lucky to have this happen so close to a town, and so close to a town with a bike shop.  Had this happened in parts of Wyoming, thirst might have overtaken our friend before we did.  So point and laugh at my pie pan, if you can see it behind my pannier, I don’t give a damn. Now back to the story.  As we were assessing the situation roadside and discussing the options we were each supporting laden touring bicycles.  I mentioned to Justin that I had a chain tool and that we could set him up with a single speed to get him back to town.  He was up to his elbows in grease and wrestling his balking bicycle. 

I decided that we needed to lean our bicycles to really be able to help. I handed the chain tool to Justin but failed to fully explain how I planned to first unlink his masterlink, pick the best gear ratio for him, then cut the excess chain and relink the chain.  There was nothing nearby to lean a bicycle on (Surly refuses to put a kickstand plate on their touring bicycles unsuccessfully defended on their website and total lunacy guided again by fashion) so it took a few minutes to find two spots to lean two bicycles and by the time I got back the chain had been cut at a random point and the option for a single speed fix was gone.  It was late, we all wanted to make it to Astoria, we were all tired and my inability to vocalize what is in my head meant that Justin would now have to coast back to Cannon Beach.

Luckily, it was a mostly downhill trip back to Cannon Beach and Mike's Bikes so Sam helped him get the thing rideable while I called Mike and wrote down addresses and phone numbers for Weston.  It was funny to watch him free pedal like a clown as he headed downhill, coasting as far as possible with his chain in his pocket.  On toward Astoria we went...

Well, this tour has shown me one thing: that is that the later in the day it is, the slower we go.  We finally crossed the Lewis & Clark River bridge and entered Astoria about 7pm.  We lucked into a hostel room downtown one block west from a brewhouse/public house and one block north of the food co-op.  In house Italian sausages and Omissions gluten free beer for all then hot showers and to bed.

the Bucket List is one bullet shorter. Yay us!

Hwy 101

Aug 29

As promised, we headed north on Hwy 101 and met many, many cyclists headed south.  Going south, in fact, is by a very wide margin the more popular direction of travel.  Something about the advantage of some prevailing wind patterns.  I said, 'If I can survive the hairdryer-south-wind in Kansas, I can take a little cool breeze from the pacific."  As it turns out, the winds are a little more variable than the spooky-story-tellers predicted and we have had 3 days of pedaling in south or west wind. It's a good thing too, because we've been a little distracted by the scenery.

We have taken liberal advantage of the plentiful state parks/campgrounds (with showers!) that have hiker/biker sites.  These are walk/ride in only sites that are reserved, usually at a respectable distance, and typically grassy so they can be pretty posh.  There are picnic tables and showers also. <thumb up>

Last night we got to the campground kinda late (6:30p) and found that one of the yurts had become available so we palmed over $40 and spent our first night in a yurt.

It was about 16' round with lots of natural light which was great.  It was also very sound permeable, which was not.  I fail to see why anyone would find it desirable or necessary to bring a Pomeranian camping...even car camping.
ETA: Unless they (Pomeranians) are emergency food or a sacrfice in case a larger, meaner dog/bear/person goes on the attack.

The Pacific at last

Aug 25

We left Eugene early headed 80 miles to Florence. Our goal was to arrive and we'd figure out the details of seeing the Pacific later.  At about 5:30, I stopped to take a picture of the city welcome sign. there was a little old lady sitting at the bus stop next to the sign who said, "where you comin' from?". I told her we were just arriving at the Pacific from Yorktown, VA and her response was:  "Go north and see Sea Lion Cave".  Just what I needed: directions to do more.  That's okay though, because we're headed north anyway.

Aug 26

We slept in at a noisy motel situated at the intersection of hwy 126 and hwy 101...chosen for its easy location.  About lunch time, we took off for Harbor Vista Park where we would finally see the Pacific.  It's about a quarter mile of loose sand between the parking area and the water edge, so Betty had to wait but I got my feet wet.

We skipped around and high fived and took photos.

Before long the fog off the headland moved on land and settled into a misty but steady rain.  We pedaled the 4 miles back to town and took up residence in a motel with a jacuzzi...yum.  This would be the first rain we've pedaled in since  Illinois!

Tomorrow we head north in a rare case of south wind.  It's four days of riding to Astoria, then 90 miles more to Portland.  Along the way, there are multiple campgrounds with showers and small but service-rich seaside towns.

Calling all fellow travelers

On our stop in Eugene, I picked up a flyer asking for survey regarding bicycling in Oregon.  If you bicycled in oregon in 2011 or 2012...they want to hear from you.
Go to RideOregonRide.com/survey

Plan B

Aug 24

Woke up this morning with clouds in my head and "lead legs" .  It's an 80 mile journey so not an insubstantial physical effort.   SO, we'll remain in Eugene on Friday and drink more water, eat more fruit, work out a plan and head for the coast on Saturday.

As always, wish us luck.

The Oregon of my dreams.

Aug 23

I didn't realize that 2/3rds of Oregon is just like the rest of the western states...brown, dry and dry.  I was told many times that most of the state is "high desert"...even though I had really figured it out myself already.













Anyway, all is forgiven because we have finally made it over the beautiful Cascade range and have settled for the night in the guest apartment of local cyclists that we happened to meet at a hardware store while purchasing alcohol for the camp stove.

Eugene is a pretty nice town with a busy extensive greenway system and cyclists everywhere.  I like it.  It's interesting for me because my paternal grandparents lived in Eugene when I was just a pig-tailed mountain kid.  They  moved to Reno in  my teen years and I don't see now why...but I'm sure they had their reasons.

Tomorrow we head off as early as possible for an 80  mile assault on Florence and the Pacific Ocean.  If you don't already know, the Oregon coast is not like the North Carolina coast.  There is no Piedmont that slips quietly and peacefully downward for 100 or so miles to a sandy, warm coast.   Our trip will feature wooded hills almost all the way.  Wish us luck.

Oregon...nothing new to report.

Aug 18

Nothing new to report.  Oregon started as Idaho ended...brown, bumpy, a little too hot.  It will get better.  Here are some pictures to tide you over. 

 

Our ride into Baker City passed the official Oregon Trail monument...photo  bombed by a club rider.

 

New kicks for Betty in Baker City.  They are 1.25 instead of 1.5 and I can feel the loss of cushion but also some increase in efficiency.  Thank you, Justin and Sam for keeping me rolling the last 20 hot, dry and hot miles into Baker City.

 

A welcome station just east of town.  A little tacky but had the virtue of shade.

 

Riding through fossil country and stopped to do a little roadside "fossiking" at a promising location.  Sam found a leaf print in the hardened volcanic ash. 

Tomorrow we ride a short day to have time to stop and explore the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument and visitor center. Then on to Mitchell.

In Idaho

August 12

Having completed our rites at the ACA headquarters, we turned our bikers south (south!) to pass along the 'backside' of the Bitterroot range and on toward Idaho.

Up to Chief Joseph Pass and into Idaho on a hot day.  A hot day in the mountains always means afternoon showers and down the other side was accompanied by a lightening show...followed by much helicopter action as the lightening almost always starts a fire somewhere.

At the Idaho visitors center, we met some friendly and curious folks on a historical bus tour.  They were retracing the steps of Lewis & Clark, or as least as much as could be from a tour bus.  Their destination for the day was Lochsa Lodge.  What a coincidence! that was our destination too!  So, as we coasted down the beautiful valley toward the Lochsa river, I was thinking of this large bus full of history buffs and wondering if they'd gobbled up all of the little log cabins that the Lodge offers.  They had.

Fortunately, the storm had passed with little rain and we settled in our tent behind the very, very small store.  We bought showers for $5 (includes towel and a small bar of soap) and skipped the $25.00 lodge meals in favor of eating food that we had carried up the pass.

The next day, we pedaled beside the Lochsa river all day and stopped several times to swim.  The waterway is beautiful and the river was so clear we could see the rocks on the bottom from pretty high on the road.  It was a clear day and a starry night sky looked eminent so we camped again; this time we stayed at a campground in Lowell which had crappy showers but good company (and a pool that we didn't use because we had splashed our 66 mile way there.

Saturday was more river...this time up and over a pass and down the other side on a shockingly steep and curvy (blessedly empty) backroad to White Bird, ID where we stopped for burger (no bun) and fries. then on to the Salmon River to follow it upstream for 56 for hot but splashy miles to Riggins.

Riggins has a grand bridge and is really just a dot on the map in grand scheme of things but apparently a really BIG deal in the paddling world.  Such a big deal, infact, that in a town whose population is 400+ there are 7 (no lie) motels and 3 campgrounds.  We got the last tent site in the whole place and were happy to have it...it overlooked a roaring curve in the Salmon River.

Today was a short day up to a high valley town called New Meadows.  It is on the way to a nice lake (read: lots of big trucks pulling big boats). It's other claim to fame is that it sits halfway between the equator and the north pole.

Montana....not Wyoming.

Aug 6

Over the past several days, we have relived some of our least favorite parts of other states.  Allow me to sum it up as concisely as possible:  1. brown, 2. dry, 3. too warm during the day, 4. sagebrush.

I have repeatedly referred to Wyoming as "Kansas with a view" and Montana continued the legacy but without the benefit of wide shoulders and National Parks.  The exception to this has been the Bitterroot Mountains.  In addition to having a plentitude of double letters in the name, they are also quite lovely.  Like the Tetons but with a more relaxed, mature look.

I also found Montanans to be much like Coloradans...that is to say, in a hurry to get somewhere distant to do something extremely (!) important and seriously irritated that I should dare to be using the road at a slower speed.  Luckily, there are so few people, that passing is a relatively safe affair.

When we arrived in Missoula (pop 59,000) yesterday evening (6:30pm !) we stopped at the grocery and were greeted in the parking lot by an older, very eager, cycling couple who immediately asked, "How's Montana treating you?" with the expectant smile of one who lives in a cycling crazed town.  Sam and I exchanged an urgent and calculating look...tell the truth or be nice?....we opted for nice.

"They've been okay...."<slightly distressed look> hurridly I added, "but Wyoming is hard to beat."  This was meant to smooth over the distress, but with a knitted brow the husband asked,  "How so?" so, of course, I mentioned Wyoming's wide shoulders and scenery and services and failed to say that Montana drivers rival Kentucky drivers for poor skill and that the shoulders that do exist are too rough and some of the towns smell like Kansas (as in, not good).  Still, Montana does know how to set up coffee houses and this may be their redemption.  Also, Dillon MT is home to the very, very tasty and, now, much loved Taco Bus.

Today is the day we went to cyclo-touring mecca.  I refer, of course, to Adventure Cycling Association World Headquarters...note that World bit.  We had our photos taken (twice), were presented with a free bandana in one of five colors, drank a free (tepid) diet coke and had our bikes weighed.  This was the shocking part.

It even looks like a temple.

We had been presented with a photo waiver/ survey which, among other things, asked us to estimate our bikes weight.  I guessed 70, Sam guessed 75 lbs.  In actuality, mine weighed 80 (OMG!) and Sam's weighed in at a supremely plump 100 lbs! (Double OMG!)

Sam executes his rites by submitting to photographing.

And what do you think we did about this?  We went to the health food store and bought more food because the next three days of riding features very widely spaced services but fabulous scenery as we head along the Lochsa River toward Grangeville, Idaho.

Vacationland, USA

July 31

On July 21st, we each paid $12.00 for a 7 day National Park bicycle pass.  It could be used to get, by bicycle, into Grand Tetons NP and Yellowstone provided you are out before the permit expires.  For the full 7 days of our park passes, we rode or walked around with our mouths gaping and a camera never far from grasp.

In a rare exercise of parsimony, we rolled through the west entrance (in our case, exit) of Yellowstone at 5:30pm on July 30.  We only needed to pedal 40-ish miles to West Yellowstone and we spent the day making our wandering way.  We stopped to see Old Faithful erupt again and also tour the geyser/spring basin there.

Old Faithful Inn...a little heavy handed on the woodwork for my taste.

Then we rode a 1.5 mile "backcountry" bicycle path over to another steamy feature.  We swam twice in the Firehole River (delicious). We were both saturated with visual stimuli and needed a break from the grandeur and beauty...also, we needed to get away from Vacationland.

SQUEE....It's babies!

You actually cross the state line within the Park boundary

Today we pedaled 71 miles over to Ennis, MT which is wildly popular with the fly-fishing crowd.  We followed the Madison River passed an earthen avalanche caused by a quake in the 50's, dodged an electrical storm at the Cameron Post Office and finally rolled into Ennis about 6pm.  Talk about burning the midnight oil...this is late for us. Not quite out of Vacationland, but getting close.