"Today was one of the better days of the trip."
Breakfast was instant oatmeal and a bagel with peanut butter. ("PEANUT BUTTER! So yummy. So high in fat and sugar. But so yummy.")
Brian and I hit the road around 9 and cycled together all day. Even though he's in much better shape than me, we stayed together quite well.
"The views and scenery were absolutely amazing. Small coves and big beaches, hills, rocks, everything. It seemed like there was a viewpoint every few miles -- we started to get tired of them. Nice tail wind, too, although occasionally it turned into a crosswind on the downhills that was damn near deadly."
We stopped for lunch at Gold Beach, which is famous for its jet-powered mail boats. The advertisements for these boats show groups of people huddled in jackets sitting in these boats, and none of them look too happy. I don't blame them -- who wants to get sprayed with water at 50 mph? Needless to say, we skipped the tour. We grabbed lunch and some groceries at the IGA. We hit the bulk section and Brian proceeded to sample everything in site. I was aghast. I grabbed a bag of dried apricots (my power fuel of choice) and we walked outside to enjoy a deli lunch. I didn't buy any other fruits or veggies because the California border inspection was coming up, and apparently they confiscate your food.
After lunch we saw a Dairy Queen and both had the same idea at the same time: Blizzards. We ate and then sat for a half an hour, talking and digesting.
"More excellent views -- actually getting better on the second half. We stopped at Thunder Rock Cove. A most amazing place. Sheer cliffs on either side of a grassy peninsula. 10 feet wide, 100 feet in the air. Gorgeous caves on both sides. Hard to believe it's all an accident."
Thunder Rock Cove was the single best spot of the entire trip. You stood on this tiny peninsula, high on the cliff with the wind whipping past you, and you could almost feel the presence of God. The last part of the Oregon Coast is loaded with places like this. We would ride our bikes around a corner, and both just have to stop and stare in wonder at the beauty before us.
Brian ran into a Larry, a quirky older guy he had met at the beginning of his trip. They rode together for the last part, so I cruised into camp by myself.
I set up my tent then rode another few miles down the road to what I thought had to be the world's single largest store. I later found out that all Fred Meyers are like that. I bought some beer for myself and Brian, and a bottle of champagne for the Alaskan couple (Harry and Sally), who had just reached the end of their trip.
I ate dinner (spinach salad) with Brian and Larry, then walked to the beach to fly my kite. Unfortunately, there was no wind so my vain attempts probably looked pretty silly. I ended up reading and watching the sunset.
"Back to camp. Sally opened the champagne and we all sat around talking for a while. Later, two tandems pulled in with 2 blind guys on the backs. Neat."
"Today was a bad day, right from the start. I just had one of those feelings. Fortunately, it got good after lunch."
I got a late start, not getting out of my tent until 8:45 -- after everyone else had already left (except for Brian, who was taking a rest day). I eventually hit the road around 10:00. The weather was foggy with very little wind -- a strong contrast to the sunshine and tailwinds of the past few days.
The 7 miles to the California border was pretty boring, taking me through moderately developed small towns. Oregon has no state sales tax so its borders are crowded with stores to lure out-of-state shoppers. I got waved through the agriculture check at the border without an inspection, and then hit the farm roads.
"I had zero energy. Headwinds popped up every now and then, and the first part of the side roads was rollers. Up, then down. Basically, just boring farm country. Easter Lily capital of the world, though."
After nearly 30 miles I hit Crescent City with thoughts of motels in my head. I was feeling the blahs big-time, and immediately after Crescent City I had the single biggest climb of the trip. The guidebook describes it like this: "Shift low, grip your handlebars, and grit your teeth. The next 17.5 miles are over some of California's most hair-raising terrain. Fog often engulfs these hills, so wear bright clothing and strap on a light that is visible to cars coming up from behind." The guidebook also says, "The road is narrow, truck traffic heavy, and shoulders non-existent." I wasn't feeling particularly encouraged by these words.
Before staking out the hotels I had lunch. I hit Pizza Hut, expecting another $4 buffet. I had to settle for a salad bar and buffalo wings -- total, $11. I managed to eat too much, as usual.
After lunch I was feeling much better (although overstuffed) so I decided to attempt the dreaded hill. The trick to hill climbing is to gear down as low as possible, sit in your seat, and just spin spin spin your pedals until you're at the top. 1200 vertical feet later I was there. No problem.
I coasted down the other side of the hill to the "Trees of Mystery." They wanted $6.50 to walk a cheesy path through some redwood trees. I skipped that, but got an ice-cream cone and watched their 50-foot-tall talking Paul Bunyan statue harass tourists.
"A few miles later I ran into Harry and Sally, the Alaskan couple. Sally had managed to fall off her bike and skin her knee. Of course, she was riding no hands, trying to remove her windbreaker. Dummy."
I left them to grab their own ice-cream cones and hit the next hill. At the top, I entered the state park and glided down a nice long (and cold!) downhill. I stopped to follow a trail to the "Big Tree", but, at 96 meters, it didn't look all that big.
"Still, the forest itself is impressive. Majestic. Big trees."
I arrived at the campground and had to sign a little form stating that I'd been informed about proper food storage. I was now in bear country. The raccoons had already been giving me the willies -- I'm sure you can imagine what I thought about the bears.
I talked to Larry, Brian's friend, for a while. He'd camped in that campground before and apparently there was a native Elk population that tended to wander through the campground at 2 in the morning. Elk, I can handle. Bears and raccoons, no.
I woke up at some point during the night, and poked my head out of my tent to see if any Elk had shown up. Nope. But, the stars were out in all their glory. What an amazing sight.
"Another blah morning, followed by a slightly better afternoon. My cold isn't getting any better (runny nose, watery eyes, occasional sore throat, and diarrhea, plus WHEW! gas!), and I can't sleep too well 'cause of it."
I woke up early so I could take a nice picture of the misty sunrise. I hit the road around 8. Once again I had no energy and sniffles. The road quickly left the majesty of the redwood forest and turned ordinary. Half the time I was too hot, half the time I was too cold. One of those days.
The road followed the coast on and off for the whole day. I saw my first surfers just before lunch. I stopped at a fry joint for a sea basket (fish, scallops, oysters, and fries).
"As usual, I felt better after lunch. Ugly highway. Rode. Turned off into Arcata. Rode through it. Seems like a neat place. Small town full of interesting shops. Didn't stop."
The guidebook called for a stop at Eureka's KOA, but it didn't quite seem worth it at $15. Plus, none of my cycling friends had shown up there. I continued on into Eureka to find a motel, and got one for only $30 -- including HBO!
After a nice shower I wandered around town. Antique stores. Blah. I had dinner at a Mexican Buffet -- really yummy, but once again I ate too much. I returned to my room and watched tv.
"Tomorrow I go to 'Marine Garden Club Grove'. I'm going to take a rest day there, because the day after that the big hills start, and the day after that is the dreaded Legget Hill. 2000 feet of thigh-numbing pleasure.
"A much better day today. Hopefully, the secret to good days isn't a motel room the night before."
I woke up around 9:30 or 10. After a free continental breakfast of all-I-could-east danishes (plus two for the road), I packed up and rolled into town. I needed another gas cylinder for my stove, and dropped off some film for development. Lunch was all-I-could-eat pizza at a local place for $5, and this time I deliberately refrained from overstuffing myself -- but still came away pleasantly satiated.
While I was picking up my pictures I also grabbed a mini-tripod, and it turned out to be really useful. It's about 7 inches long, with retractable legs. I used it to hold the camera steady while taking night shots, and to set up for pictures of myself. Purists would decry the extra weight on my bicycle, by I found it to be one of the most useful pieces of equipment for the last part of my trip (next to my tube patch kit -- but that's not for another few days yet).
I was back on the road by 12:30, feeling much better than the day before. The route stuck to the highway, so I just zipped along. It's amazing -- when riding on a road with lots of cars, my speed by several miles per hour. Part of it is due to the tailwind the cars so generously donate, but I think most of it is just the hype. Everything is going fast fast fast, and you feel the need to keep up. As soon as I hit a quieter road, I immediately slowed down, and enjoyed the world around me more.
I took a side trip into Loleta and stopped at the Loleta Cheese Factory. Their setup wasn't as impressive as Tillamook's but their garlic cheese was absolutely amazing. I bought some squeaky delicious cheese curds, then hit the road. On my way out of town I had another dog encounter, and successfully employed the "run like mad" strategy.
"Back on de road. Cycle, cycle.
Got to the Avenue of the Giants. It's like riding through a tree museum. The whole place screams, 'Look! But don't touch!' Big trees, though.
I stopped at some touristy places ("The Immortal Tree", and "The Tree House"). Okay, so these trees are big. I get the picture.
After a few more miles I stopped at a place called Founder's Grove. It's a half-mile trail that winds through the Redwoods, with an accompanying pamphlet that describes the ecosystem and how wonderful the redwoods are.
"Really nice. Big trees. Massive Trees. I mean, huge."
The Marine Garden Club Grove hiker-biker site is a few miles away from the main camp, in the middle of the trees in the middle of nowhere. In bear country. I was getting a little bit nervous, and was glad when a father and son bicycle team showed up to share the camp.
The camp itself was pretty nice. Lots of trails to hike, and right next to a river. I was thinking of staying an extra day there, but spending the night changed my mind.
First of all, it was really, really, hot in my tent. I was covered in sweat, but was too cold with my sleeping bag off. Second, the frogs were making WAY too much noise for such a small animal. And third, I was thinking about the bears.
"Needless to say, I had trouble sleeping. I kept waking up. One time, I woke up to hear the sound of sniffing at my tent. Probably a raccoon, so I banged the tent wall to scare it away. Whatever it was, it crunched a lot of things as it walked. It also started playing with the bear box, trying to get in.
At this point, I am quite frightened. But, Mr. Bear (maybe Mr. and Mrs.) went away."
"Today was notable, for two reasons."
I was awakened at 6:00 am by the neighbors, and got out of my tent around 7:30. The great sucking hordes were there to welcome me, and I was only too happy to pack up and get out of that little nightmare.
"I hate mosquitoes. The cause me to doubt the existence of God."
I was on the road a little before 9:00. I went to a tourist café (home of the drive-on-tree: a stump that they've paved over. Yippee) for pancakes and hashbrowns.
The road continued through the Avenue of the Giants (AKA the Tree Museum). After a few miles, I caught up with Mike. He has a tendency to bicycle without a shirt on, all the time, and has the sunburns to prove it. I stopped for ice cream around 11:00, and he kept going.
"Notable Number One: Today was really, really, hot. At ice cream time it was 85 degrees (fahrenheit, dummy) in the shade. God knows how hot it got in the afternoon on the road."
A little after 12:00 it was just too hot to ride so I stopped at Benbow Lake Park and took a swim in the Eel River. Clear, fast flowing water. Extremely refreshing. I stayed there for a couple of hours, and had lunch. Mini-bagel sandwiches. Yummy.
"Back on the road. OUCH! It's hot! By the end of the day I'd consumed more than 5 liters of water (while on the road). At this point, we're working on 8 for the day (that's 32 cups!). So...OUCH! Really hot!"
It was also pretty hilly, without many flat stretches. Fortunately, the hills were long so I could get a good rhythm going on the climbs.
"Notable number two: After 1477 miles of perfect performance, I broke a spoke. I don't have a replacement, of course. I managed to crawl the last 5 miles to camp by disengaging the rear brakes. Hopefully, Brian will show up tomorrow, and he'll have a spare spoke, and it'll be the right size. Hopefully."
I finally got to camp, only to find that the mosquitoes had told their cousins to the south to expect me. I must have tasty blood. I walked across the highway to the local grocery store, and the man behind the counter sold me some Avon "Skin-So-Soft". It did a decent job on the mosquitoes, but even more importantly, it made me smell so pretty.
"I am really, honestly, truly spending another day here. No matter how many mosquitoes are waiting outside my tent to greet me."
"Today was rest day. What fun!"
I woke up and said goodbye to Mike -- he was continuing on -- then had bagels and oatmeal for breakfast. I packed up some beach supplies and realized that I'd lost my sunscreen! Oh no! It was good stuff -- waterproof, sweatproof, and in convenient little container. I walked across the highway and got ripped off for some Coppertone crap.
"To the beach. Actually, the river. But boy was it nice. The "swimming area" is a bend in the river at the base of the cliff. The water underneath the cliffs is an unknown depth -- i.e. very deep. Put two and two together -- people are jumping off the cliffs. Great fun.
Took me a while to work myself up to it, though. The "lowest" cliff is probably 5 or 6 meters. The highest one that I jumped is probably close to 10. However, one guy went from the very top -- an absolutely obscene height of about 30 meters. Had a good 3 seconds of free fall. I'm amazed he survived. Didn't do it again, though.
So, I jumped and floated and baked on the rocks all day. In the middle I had lunch and wrote a bit. That was my day. It was really hot -- in the 90's(F)."
Bad news, I'm afraid. I brought my camera down to the river with me, and left it in my bag while I was down there. I think the bag must have gotten too hot, because when I tried to turn the camera on at the end of the day, it wouldn't respond. It wouldn't do anything. I tried replacing the battery a few days later, and it still didn't work -- but the battery got really hot really quickly. I took this to indicate a short circuit. Unfortunately, the camera never got fixed. By the time I got home it had evidence of impact damage, which voided the warranty, and so I was out one camera. The moral of the story is that there are no more pictures.
I had more preservative stew for dinner, then fixed my bike. I removed the broken spoke and re-trued the wheel.
"Had a shower. The great sucking hordes are out en masse again so I've confined myself to my tent. I'll write 'n read 'n sleep.
A guy just pulled in, and his tent is just like mine. Except blue. I like his color better. I suppose I should say hi, but the sucking hordes will get me. Maybe he'll come over.
Tomorrow (after a hearty breakfast in Leggett) we will attack The Hill. It's really not that big a deal -- we're already half way up. The downhill should be fun, though."