The Canadian Job - Day Neuf

This would prove to be the worse day of the whole trip. I got up hoping to catch an early bus down I-5, back to Eugene, but I ran into problems as soon as I got up. As I was trying to tear down my bike to fit it into the bike box for shipping I realized that my pedals simply weren't going to come off, at least not with the tools I had. I actually broke a crescent wrench trying to get them loose. So I came to the conclusion that I had to walk it down to a bike shop so they could help me. Now Justin lives on Capital hill in Seattle, which is hella steep. So here is me walking a bike, with a flat tire, loaded down with about 40 lbs of gear, with one eye blinking like mad, a right knee that is basically locked up, trying to steer with one hand and carry a giant bike box with the other, while going down a hill that is probably 30 degrees!! F********K

It wasn't pretty. Though it was probably pretty funny to the people who saw me.

I finally make to to the bike shop about an hour later (it was only a few blocks away but as you can imagine, I wasn't going fast). And they basically tell me that they can't help me, they are too busy (the shop is empty). This pisses me off something fierce. All I wanted was for them to brake the pedals loose for me with a pedal wrench. After a few minutes of begging and then near threatening, the guy concedes and tears himself away from his conversation with a fellow employee to help me for 2 seconds. After the pedals are loose I break the bike down the rest of the way, put it in the box, tape it up, walk the rest of the way to the Grey Hound station and get my ticket. I check the bike with them, throw my panniers over my shoulder, and walk a few blocks over to a deli for a sandwich while I wait. As I'm eating my sandwich I realize that I can't find my ticket. The ticket is completely AWOL. I back track and find the sleeve and reciept laying in the middle of the street, but the actual ticket is still missing. I swepted a 3 or 4 block radius but still couldn't find the ticket. So I go back to the Grey Hound station and explain what happened, but they basically call me an idiot and say that all I can do is buy another ticket. So I do. As soon as I left with my NEW ticket I see a piece of paper under a car ticket and guess what it is? My old ticket. SO I go back in AGAIN and they give me a partial refund. After that I was just done; I just wanted to be home. I walked over to a book store a few blocks away and sat and read a Kurt Vonnegut book until the bus was supposed to leave.

Of course the bus riding was effing miserable, Grey Hound rides always are, but I ended up making it home to Eugene in the wee hours of the morning. And just to make things a little more aggravating, when I got off the bus in Eugene they DIDN'T have my bike. There had be a fire in the station in Eugene a few days prior and no one said anything about that to me (they weren't accepting freight and my bike was considered freight). So I had to stress and worry until 3 days later when my bike magically showed up with no explanation as to where it had been the whole time.

But after I got home and relaxed and started reflecting on my trip as a whole I was pretty pleased. I get a lot of crazy ideas about things I want to do, but I rarely go through with them. This time I actually did. I was really proud of myself for making it. Overall it was an amazing adventure.

The Canadian Job - Day Huit

I woke up with something in my right eye. It was really painful and I could not get it out. Whatever it was it ended up staying in my eye for a few days. And on top of that my right knee started hurting the night before as well. By the time I woke up it was hurting really bad and I had quite a limp going on.

Nonetheless, I made it down for breakfast and sat with my 3 Canuck friends from the night before. We all chatted about the universe and U.S. vs Canadian health care. Breakfast was amazing: a bowl of fresh fruit, O.J., coffee, eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes, and sauteed mushrooms. Delicious.

After breakfast I decided that I just wasn't in good enough shape to ride around the islands like I had wanted to, so I just decided to walk around the city all day then take a ferry into Seattle and stay the night with my friend Justin (I can be bad at inviting myself sometimes, he didn't seem to mind too much though). Anyway the day was beautiful so I took my bike down and checked it at the ferry station, then just walked around exploring and taking pictures. My eye and knee were bothering me a lot but I was determined to still have a good time.

I'll just let the pictures do the talking:







At the end of the day I got on the boat to Seattle and sat with this nice couple from the south. They were there on their honeymoon and were all lovey dovey. It was cute. The ride from Victoria to Seattle felt like it took forever but I was pretty entertained watching the little blinking light that represented our progress on the overhead monitor by my seat. And I kept going back and forth to the back to hangout with the smokers and check out the scenery. There was an awesome sunset that night.

After actually getting into Seattle it took forever to actually get off the boat, then they made us wait in line for like 45 minutes, then they started taking us through customs at about 15 people at a time. Getting into the U.S. was much more painful than getting into Canada. Apparently they aren't disturbingly paranoid about terrorist attacks in Canada. Go figure. I was just waiting for the guy to make me empty my bags but he didn't. He was still a dick though.

After I got out of the station. I realized that I had a flat tire, but it didn't really matter though because its all uphill to Justin's house from the waterfront and I wasn't in any condition to ride. So I called him up, we met up, got a bike box from the Grey Hound station, dropped off everything at his house, and then went and found a restaurant that was open at 1 am. Now by this point my knee is hurting so bad I can hardly walk but I still had to trek through a few miles worth of downtown Seattle. It would be weeks before I could walk right again, let alone ride.

The Canadian Job - Day Sept

I started off the day by saying good-bye to my comrade Paul. We shared some breakfast and then I was off not too long after sunrise.

The weather wasn't bad when I got up, but as soon I got into the little town of Sequim, literally 15 or 20 miles short my destination of Port Angeles, it started POURING rain.....and it was freezing. I pulled over and put on my track jacket and put the rain covers on my panniers, but they did little good, everything ended up getting soaked anyway. Those last 15 miles were the most grueling, painful, trying miles of my life. I was shivering so bad that I could hardly steer in a straight line. It got to the point where I was looking forward to riding uphill because it warmed me up a little. The cold wind on my soaking wet body was cutting (again all I had was a spandex cycling shorts, a thin jersey, and my track jacket, all of which were drenched). By the time I actually got to the ferry terminal in Port Angeles I think I had a mild case of hypothermia and was sort of disoriented, but never the less I was stoked to finally be there.

A train trestle that had been converted into a bike path between Sequim and Port Angeles

After getting into the ferry station and drying off as much as I could with paper towels and the hand dryer in the bathroom, I sat down and tried to warm up. I ended up having to sit there a lot longer than I had anticipated, but I got to chatting with this guy from North Carolina. He was touring the U.S. in his Jeep and camping along the way (he was just making a day trip to Victoria). I sat by him on the ferry too because this weird old guy kept talking to me and he was creeping me out, so I didn't want him sitting by me.

The actually ferry ride was really fast (only like 30 minutes) and I spent most of the time trying to dry out my socks out on the baseboard heaters....didn't work well. I think the donut and hot coffee brought up my spirits quite a bit though.

The first thing I noticed in Victoria was a MASSIVE cruise ship. I had never seen a cruise ship in person before and I swear this thing was taller than most of the buildings on the skyline.

Customs was unexpectedly easy. I was in and out in literally a couple minutes. They basically just asked what I was there for, then sent me through. The cat from North Carolina who I was talking to, he got searched.

The first thing I did was find the information center that I had been told was on the waterfront. The girl there (who was really cute) set me up with a bed and breakfast by Craigdarroch Castle (pronounce Craig-Derrick I think) because it was cheaper than any hotel room and I wanted my own room to leave my bike in, so a hostel was out. As she was calling and setting it up for me this HOT eastern European girl came up to me and was like "I stay at Hostel. Very cheap. You stay too?" And of course I was like ".....I.....uh.....uh....." Which didn't go over so well. I eventually was able to form words and explained to her that I was needed an actual room so that I could explore the city and leave my bike behind. I know....I'm an idiot.

Victoria's Inner Harbour (as I got off the boat)

After I made it to the castle (I was walking my bike by that point; I was a hurting unit) I was blown away by its beauty. The castle (and by castle I mean honest-to-goodness stone "knights of the round table" kind of castle) was literally in the backyard of the house I was staying at. But after I got there the proprietors weren't there, or at least they weren't answering the door, so I was left standing, freezing on the porch for like an hour waiting for them. Eventually he did answer though. The guy showed me up to my room and after he left I proceeded to tear my clothes off like they were on fire and jump into the shower. Much to my chagrin the hot water didn't work!! I was so pissed I was about ready to scream, but then I realized that it was just hooked up backwards and the hot side was actually cold and vice versa. After I got it going....oh my God, that was my first shower in about a week, and probably the most satisfying one of my life. I stood there for what seemed like forever just soaking in the heat.

After the shower of a lifetime I came to the conclusion that my clothes were still wet and dirty, and besides that they weren't exactly 'nightlife' clothes. So I made my way down to the local Value Village second hand store (which was in a really, really bad part of the city) and bought me some new threads. I ended up getting a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a hoodie, a beanie, an umbrella, and a little satchel to carry my old clothes in, all for about $30. Not bad at all. And in case you were curious the Canadian dollar is worth the same as the U.S. dollar at this point; most places there would take either because they are basically worth the same amount.

After Value Village I found a public bathroom to change in and wandered around the city until it got dark. Eventually had a slice of pizza for dinner, got some advice from a local on a good pub and went and had a couple pints.

By the time I got back to the B&B I could barely keep my eyes open but for some reason I decided that it was necessary to go take pictures of the castle at night. I was probably looking kind of suspicious, walking around taking pictures at like 2 in the morning, because the security guard stopped me and wanted to know what I was doing. But after I convinced the guy that I wasn't casing the place we got to talking and he invited me up onto the porch (for lack of a better word) of the castle and he proceeded to tell me the whole story of the place. It turns out it was built by a coal baron back in the 1890s, has 39 rooms, 20k square feet, and something like a dozen fire places. The guard was a really nice guy but he seemed a little off; said something about being in a mining accident when he was younger. He seemed really lonely there and didn't want me to leave but I explained to him the incredibly long day I'd had, and that I had to get to bed.



After getting back to the house, again, I ran into some of my fellow bed and breakfasteers who were all in the living room chatting. There was a middle aged couple from mainland Canada, who struck me as quintessential Canadian folks, and an older guy named Peter who was from Victoria, yet had what sounded like a thick aristocratic type English accent. They all seemed like good people though, and I got them to teach me about Canada. It turns out there dollar coin is affectionately called the "loony." Who know.

The Candian Job - Day Six

I rode 75 miles this day. It was my plan for this day to be the last long day of riding for the trip, and luckily it worked out.

I met a guy fairly early in the day who was riding from Vancouver B.C. down to the Baja Penninsula. I was yet again impressed that a retired guy was making such an epic solo voyage. But he seemed to be pretty impressed that I was making my trip on a single speed bike.

I found a small bottle of Bacardi rum on the side of the road with the seal still intact. I threw it in my bag with intentions of drinking it to celebrate my arrival in Canada, but I never did.

I finished my day at Sequim (pronounced Squim) Bay State Park about 20 miles short of Port Angeles. I met this old timer there named Paul who I quickly befriended. This state park had hiker/biker camping spots too so I got to camp with my brethren. Paul was a retired military engineer (or something like that, I was a little confused about what he did). He had bought a bottle of Merlot and some cheese and rolls in Port Angeles (he was traveling the opposite way from Seattle to SoCal) and he offered to share them with me. So we sat around for like 3 or 4 hours, out on the dock at Sequim Bay, sharing stories and drinking wine. He told me all about how he spent a year cycling through Europe when he was younger and how he recently spent 9 months backpacking through central Africa. Apparently it was pretty hairy in some areas because of guerrilla activity and whatnot.

With only 20 miles left to go I had a hard time falling asleep because I was so excited about getting in Victoria the next day.

The Candian Job - Day Cinq

Not long after I left Raymond I came across another cyclist. I was flying down a hill and he was laboring up it. We both stopped and chatted across the highway. It turns out he was going from Seattle to Los Angeles. Yet another retired guy making me look like a chump by riding the distance of the U.S. west coast.

I rode 71 miles that day. I would have gotten a lot further but I got another flat just outside of Elma WA on the 101 (which is a freeway in that part of Washington). So I walked into town but surprise, surprise, they didn't have a bike shop. I was directed by a gas station attendant to the only hardware store in town, which happened to be right across the street. They had plenty of bike tubes but none that would fit my bike so I decided to try and patch the 3 blown tubes that I had. I hauled my bike over to a grassy area in front of a church a few blocks away, tore everything apart and then realized, are you ready for this......the glue in my patch kit was dried up. So in a state of extreme frustration I put my bags and my disassembled bicycle onto my back and hiked back to the hardware store. I then bought myself a general purpose rubber patch kit, unload everything onto the sidewalk in front of the store, and finally got to work.

During the process of finding the holes in the tubes I hear "GET THE HELL OUT OF TOWN!!" from behind me. I turn around and there is this older gentleman, who I quickly realized was just joking with me. He sat down and started chatting with me about my trip and the route I was planning on taking. His wife soon came around the corner, looking for him, and she immediately asked me if I had had lunch yet, I hadn't, so she invited me over to their place for lunch. The idea of a hot meal really excited me so I quickly put my bike back together and made my way over to their cozy little house a few blocks away.

The misses made me a turkey sandwich with cucumber and swiss. I was stoked as hell about the sandwich but she kept putting more and more food in front of me: sweet pickles, a freshly baked blueberry scone, a bowl of vanilla ice cream with a nectarine sliced over the top, a pile of chips, and a mug of hot tea with honey. They were really sweet people. I still can't believe that they invited a smelly, dirty Travis into their home after literally knowing me for about 2 minutes.

They argued for a while about which route I should take out of town, but once that was decided I shook the old timers hand and the his wife gave me a big hug and I was back on the road.

They sent me on a rural road the goes behind Elma and Shelton. That was the prettiest stretch of road on my whole trip. It was absolutely beautiful. Nothing but young conifers, quaint farmhouses, and small fields for 20 or 30 miles. I even saw an old couple on an evening drive in their model T.

The Candian Job - Day Quatre

The first thing I did on day four was ride the handful of miles left to Astoria, buy a couple of corn dogs (everyone knows that they are PURE ENERGY), and interrogate the local bike shop owner about the insanely long bridge that I was about to cross. The chap at "Bikes and Beyond" was really friendly and explained that the 4.7 mile long bridge crossing the mouth of the Columbia river, with a 24 inch shoulder, wasn't really so bad. I was scared out of my mind for the first mile or two but after the bridge leveled out I started to calm down.



After crossing the bridge I stopped for a few minutes to marvel at the fact that I had actually ridden my bike to another state. But as soon as I started pedaling to the first town in Washington I realized that the weather was turning again me. It had been hot and sunny for most of the trip until this point, but as soon as I entered Washington it started to get cold and wet.

The first 60 miles or so up highway 101 into Washington were very Twilight Zonish. Traffic was flying by me like crazy but for 60 or 70 miles there were no towns, no gas stations, no general stores, nothing....just highway and cars and coastal wetlands. At one point I got another flat tire which really pissed me off because I just wanted to get to a town to eat and relax and start looking for a campsite. When I finally came upon a town, Raymond/South Bend, the people were pretty unpleasant and were no help in cheering me up. But after a calling Matt to do some research for me I ended up camping at a trailer park and was happy to just be done for the day.

I rode 77 miles that day and by the end of the day I realized that my biggest motivation to continue riding was the idea of taking a shower. Could not wait to take a shower. My body, clothes, sleeping bag, EVERYTHING was sticky and smelly and gross as hell.

The Candian Job - Day Trois

Day three was an intense day of riding. I rode more this day than any other day of the trip (88 miles) and a lot of it was uphill because I was crossing the Coast Range. Unfortunately the first 20 or so miles were backtracking. I decided to go backwards so that I could get onto highway 26 and heading to Seaside instead of going forward towards Tillamook which was in a slightly southernly (and therefore counter productive) direction.

There were a few times during the day when I just didn't think that I was going to make it. Riding over a mountain range on a single speed bicycle in really hot weather was starting to make me crack. If there was a point along the trip where I was really considering giving up it would have been on this day, on this stretch of highway.


I stopped at this park just off the highway that claimed to have the oldest Sitka Spruce tree in the United States: 750 years old. That was one massive, old tree. The picture doesn't really give much scale, but trust me, it was big.



I ended the day in a state campground called Fort Stevens State Park, which was in a little town just a couple miles away from Astoria. It was the biggest campground I have ever seen, something like 250 sites. I stayed in an area officially designated for hikers and bikers. I was amazed that I only had to pay $4 to stay there.

Not long after I first set up camp this older cyclist (I would later learn pretty much all touring cyclists are retired) came over and started chatting with me. This guy had ridden from Los Angeles California, all the way up into the Yukon territory, and was on his way back. Thats one epic quest; especially alone, for someone in their 60s. After talking to him I felt like a real amateur.

By this point I was feeling really filthy too. My body, and all of my gear was disgustingly dirty and sticky. The campsite I was staying at had free showers, but of course I had no towel.

The Candian Job - Day Deux

Got my first flat on the second day. I was just leaving McMinnville and I heard a hissing sound coming from the back of my bike. Luckily it happened just feet from a cemetery, so I just pulled my bike up into the grass, under a tree, and went to work. The groundskeeper was mowing the grass and giving me the funniest look.



I stopped at one point and stole a bunch of grapes from a vineyard. It turns out that they were not ripe--very bitter--so I didn't eat many. But I felt like such a badass for stealing produce.

I rode about 72 miles the second day, which was close to my goal. I ended up camping on an old logging road above an official campground. The campground was really pretty. It was on the bottom of this little gully and there was a stream running through the middle of it. I didn't have any cash to pay for a campsite so I just kept walking until I found a road that was overgrown and hiked up it.

My plan for this day was to end up on highway 26 somewhere in between Forest Grove and Astoria but I ended up on a different highway (it was highway 6 or 8 I think). At the end of the day I was unsure about the route I had taken and was considering back tracking some.

The Candian Job - Day Un

As soon as I got out the door and got onto my bike I realized that I was going to have problems. The first issue I had was my panniers (saddle bags) immediately started to fold in on themselves and get caught in my spokes on the back of the rear wheel (not to mention the front of the bags were clipping my heels as I rode). I had told Matt that I would meet him for breakfast out highway 99, so I somehow hobbled all the way out there riding with basically the heels of my feet and stopping every few blocks to pull the panniers out of the spokes.

Once I finally got to where we were supposed to meet, he convinces me that we should go to this little bar for breakfast instead. But the bar is very blue collar and in an industrial part of town, so when I walk in wearing spandex cycling shorts of course I feel like a complete freak. But the breakfast was pretty good and provided a good amount of energy to start the day.

After breakfast I knew that I was going to have to do something about my bags so I had Matt take me over to Jerry's Hardware so I could buy some doweling, to try to reinforce the backs of the panniers. We spent quite a while doing that and it only seemed to help a little bit. Then I realized that I couldn't find my keys (which only consisted of the house key and the key to my bike lock). So we drove all the way back to the bar looking for them and he ended up spotting them lying in the middle of the street.

So by that point I was starting to think that all this early bad luck might be some kind of sign for me to just stay home but I'm too stubborn of a guy to give up that easily.

After we got done at Jerry's I finally got on my journey under way. Of course the bags were still catching in the spokes so I constantly had to stop and readjust them. It was a really hot day that day too, probably in the low 90's, but I powered through, all the way to Corvallis, before I had to stop for a while. I got a Gatorade at a 7-11 as soon as I got into town, then I found a nice little shady piece of lawn next to a storage unit place and laid down for a nap. I ended up staying there, sleeping, for almost an hour and a hour. Not really what I had in mind when I stopped, but I really needed it. That hot weather was draining me.

I ended up riding about 65 miles that first day. About 20 miles short of my goal, but still not back considering all the problems I had and the fact that I didn't leave Eugene until about 11 am.


I camped that night next to a big field off of the side of highway 99. I was a little worried that the landowner would find me but I wasn't really hurting anything and I was planning to be gone shortly after dawn anyway. That was the only night too that I left my panniers outside of the tent. Some little animals got into my food and ate of bunch of my bread.

The Candian Job (Prologue)

So I had this epic plan a while back to ride my single speed road bicycle from here (Eugene, Oregon) to Victoria, British Columbia. My uncle Scott made a similar voyage on his bike when he was younger, and his stories inspired me to try such a ride after I got my bike in June of this year.

So after I got into decent riding shape and worked it into my work/school schedule, I just went for it. All in all it was an amazing adventure and I've made some great memories. I traveled roughly 475 miles in slightly over 6 days, averaging about 75 miles a day. And now that I'm back I thought I would share some of my stories and photographs with the rest of you.

And again, I would like to thank all of the people who supported and encouraged me before, during and after my trip. I would especially like to thank Phil and Matt for letting me borrow their gear, and Amber for constantly telling me how impressed she was :-)

And for all of you who thought it was a stupid idea, or who thought that I wouldn't make it - piss off. I pedaled my skinny ass almost 500 miles in less than a week on a single speed bike, over a mountain range, through extreme heat and freezing rain, hauling almost 50 pounds of steel bicycle and gear, ALL ALONE into another country. Just try and tell me that I can't do something now...