The weather was hot again, about 30 degrees. I find this to be a very pleasant riding temperature as on a bike you generate your own breeze. The exception to this is when you're climbing a long hill at only 5MPH.
At the the end of the first small climb I was rewarded with an incredible view taking in a number of headlands, each covered a little in my first views of the Pacific mist I'd heard about. I descended the other side of the hill and stopped off at the beach briefly. It didn't look nearly as impressive down on the beach. I'm starting to learn that in order to get the good views you need to climb a big hill.
At the next viewpoint I was approached by a fairly old American chap who'd parked his RV at the viewpoint. He asked me the usual questions about where I was headed, but unlike most other interested strangers he was determined to probe a little deeper. He wanted to know how I could afford to do such a trip, whether I was picking up any girls on the way and any number of other things that weren't really his business. It was the first time I've been tempted to make up more interesting answers to what are becoming the regular standard questions. I fear as the journey progresses I may start telling a series of more impressive and shocking lies about my trip for my own amusement.
20 miles in I began the first of the 2 big climbs I had heard were in store for me today. I was really pleased to notice how much stronger I'm feeling on the bike. I put my head down and kept pedalling at a rate I could have continued for miles. A week ago I would not have been swearing my way up those hills. I noticed another cyclist in front, nearly at the top of the hill. He had a very large trailer and seemed to be weaving all over the road. I passed him and he did not look in great physical condition. As I reached the top of the hill he shouted, 'You made it to the top of the hill, you're a monster!' This is exactly the kind of thing you want to hear after making to the top of a tough hill.
As I neared camp I popped into a grocery store to pick up some food for the evening meal. It was a great little store with heaps of fresh fruit and veg (a bit of a rarity in smaller American grocery stores) and even a pair of flip-flops to replace the ones I lost off the back of the bike whilst in Canada.
Nehalem State Park was really excellent - my first Oregonian camping experience. Only $4 dollars for the night (special cyclists rate throughout Oregon) and free showers. As I pulled into the hiker/biker section of the park I saw Elan and Kate who I'd met a few days back at the snakey campsite. It was really good to see them again and we had a lot to catch up on with our adventures of the last few days. Kate told me how the previous night she'd been disturbed by noises outside the tent. She got up to investigate and found Elan fighting off a bunch of Raccoons by spraying them with mace. They'd been trying to eat his food and he was dead-set on teaching them a lesson.
Once set up and showered I took a walk to the beach. It was a good as any beach I've ever seen, with miles of secluded sand dunes and huge Pacific waves. I was tempted to break out my as yet unused swimming shorts but instead I found my own bit of sand dune and read my book for a couple of hours in the sun. It was simple yet beautiful.
Back at camp things were buzzing. After staying in mostly very quiet parks so far, things seemed much busier in Oregon. I met Brian, the guy I'd seen earlier struggling to make it up the hill. He was not your typical touring cyclist. Without wishing to seem unkind he appeared not to have done much training for his ride. If he had done any preparation at all it was mainly in the storing of calories. Another new face was Zach, another trailer cyclist who seemed to have bought his entire set of belongings with him. Later on I was shocked to see him produce a fold-out, fully reclining camp chair. Also camping with us was a guy who's name I forget so a shall refer to him as Beardy Hiker. I felt a little sorry for him as I think he felt a little excluded, being the only one without a bike. Next was Chris, a guy I'd already heard rumours of. He's unique in the respect that he's pulling a surfboard in addition to the usual collection of camping gear.
Zach got a good fire going in the centre of the camp and eventually everyone gathered for the evening. It was great to hear everyone's story of how they came to be on the road. I got talking to Chris about surfing and my interest in learning. He told me about a good place to learn a few days further south. He said he'd be happy to give me a lesson if I hire a wetsuit and board and meet him down there. Brian was hilarious as he is clearly not enjoying the cycling. He was obsessed with trying to get to the bottom of Oregon, somehow avoiding all hills. We all discussed our plans for the next day and many of us agreed to meet at the next campsite tomorrow. Just before we all retired to our tents a loud and piercing collection of howls made everybody fall silent. I asked what the noise was, it was a pack of coyotes and they were close. I was very excited by this, I really hope I'll get to see a coyote at some point. It was a really fun night and a great example of how a bunch of strangers can be bought together by the primitive appeal of the camp-fire.
I went to bed having had a great day both on the bike and off. Today was everything I'd hoped for when I began planning this trip months ago. I'm sure they'll be many more like this as the journey goes on.
Day 20 – 25 milesCheck-out time was 11am so I left the motel at 10.59am to fully make use of their comforts. I planned a short ride today. I'm finding that instead of taking a rest day I prefer to do only a few miles, but at least keep progressing southwards.
The weather was hot again, about 30 degrees. I find this to be a very pleasant riding temperature as on a bike you generate your own breeze. The exception to this is when you're climbing a long hill at only 5MPH.
At the the end of the first small climb I was rewarded with an incredible view taking in a number of headlands, each covered a little in my first views of the Pacific mist I'd heard about. I descended the other side of the hill and stopped off at the beach briefly. It didn't look nearly as impressive down on the beach. I'm starting to learn that in order to get the good views you need to climb a big hill.
At the next viewpoint I was approached by a fairly old American chap who'd parked his RV at the viewpoint. He asked me the usual questions about where I was headed, but unlike most other interested strangers he was determined to probe a little deeper. He wanted to know how I could afford to do such a trip, whether I was picking up any girls on the way and any number of other things that weren't really his business. It was the first time I've been tempted to make up more interesting answers to what are becoming the regular standard questions. I fear as the journey progresses I may start telling a series of more impressive and shocking lies about my trip for my own amusement.
20 miles in I began the first of the 2 big climbs I had heard were in store for me today. I was really pleased to notice how much stronger I'm feeling on the bike. I put my head down and kept pedalling at a rate I could have continued for miles. A week ago I would not have been swearing my way up those hills. I noticed another cyclist in front, nearly at the top of the hill. He had a very large trailer and seemed to be weaving all over the road. I passed him and he did not look in great physical condition. As I reached the top of the hill he shouted, 'You made it to the top of the hill, you're a monster!' This is exactly the kind of thing you want to hear after making to the top of a tough hill.
As I neared camp I popped into a grocery store to pick up some food for the evening meal. It was a great little store with heaps of fresh fruit and veg (a bit of a rarity in smaller American grocery stores) and even a pair of flip-flops to replace the ones I lost off the back of the bike whilst in Canada.
Nehalem State Park was really excellent - my first Oregonian camping experience. Only $4 dollars for the night (special cyclists rate throughout Oregon) and free showers. As I pulled into the hiker/biker section of the park I saw Elan and Kate who I'd met a few days back at the snakey campsite. It was really good to see them again and we had a lot to catch up on with our adventures of the last few days. Kate told me how the previous night she'd been disturbed by noises outside the tent. She got up to investigate and found Elan fighting off a bunch of Raccoons by spraying them with mace. They'd been trying to eat his food and he was dead-set on teaching them a lesson.
Once set up and showered I took a walk to the beach. It was a good as any beach I've ever seen, with miles of secluded sand dunes and huge Pacific waves. I was tempted to break out my as yet unused swimming shorts but instead I found my own bit of sand dune and read my book for a couple of hours in the sun. It was simple yet beautiful.
Back at camp things were buzzing. After staying in mostly very quiet parks so far, things seemed much busier in Oregon. I met Brian, the guy I'd seen earlier struggling to make it up the hill. He was not your typical touring cyclist. Without wishing to seem unkind he appeared not to have done much training for his ride. If he had done any preparation at all it was mainly in the storing of calories. Another new face was Zach, another trailer cyclist who seemed to have bought his entire set of belongings with him. Later on I was shocked to see him produce a fold-out, fully reclining camp chair. Also camping with us was a guy who's name I forget so a shall refer to him as Beardy Hiker. I felt a little sorry for him as I think he felt a little excluded, being the only one without a bike. Next was Chris, a guy I'd already heard rumours of. He's unique in the respect that he's pulling a surfboard in addition to the usual collection of camping gear.
Zach got a good fire going in the centre of the camp and eventually everyone gathered for the evening. It was great to hear everyone's story of how they came to be on the road. I got talking to Chris about surfing and my interest in learning. He told me about a good place to learn a few days further south. He said he'd be happy to give me a lesson if I hire a wetsuit and board and meet him down there. Brian was hilarious as he is clearly not enjoying the cycling. He was obsessed with trying to get to the bottom of Oregon, somehow avoiding all hills. We all discussed our plans for the next day and many of us agreed to meet at the next campsite tomorrow. Just before we all retired to our tents a loud and piercing collection of howls made everybody fall silent. I asked what the noise was, it was a pack of coyotes and they were close. I was very excited by this, I really hope I'll get to see a coyote at some point. It was a really fun night and a great example of how a bunch of strangers can be bought together by the primitive appeal of the camp-fire.
I went to bed having had a great day both on the bike and off. Today was everything I'd hoped for when I began planning this trip months ago. I'm sure they'll be many more like this as the journey goes on.
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