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.
Monday, October 1, 2007
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.
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.
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.
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