Memoirous

Sunday July 12, 2020, 54 miles (87 km) - Total so far: 2,464 miles (3,965 km) So many thoughts, so many emotions. I've never attempted anything this big and this far before, and it's a little too early to ask: Would you do it again? All I know is I finished and I cried. I left Clatskanie around 7:30, what would be a late start. I had to time the end to coordinate with a few schedules. I began in misty rain, typical for that elevation and biosphere, a Pacific Northwest forest. My rain pants and shoes collected road grit. I ate a small snack and continued on to Astoria--another biosphere now closer to the coast. I actually thought I'd made it to the ocean as I saw big vessels parked off the shore of the Columbia, but a 93-year -old walker told me we were only at the mouth of the river. The coast was further west. After passing under the impressive Astoria bridge I was on the famous highway 101 upon which I crossed over a long causeway to a point where Lewis and Clark had a

Saturday July 11, 2020, 60 miles (97 km) - Total so far: 2,410 miles (3,879 km) All the towns on my route today were either Indian names like Scappoosa, Clatskanie or names of mountains like Ranier, St. Helen's. Also majorly closed due to Covid. For example, finding a restroom. You can pass all the MacDonalds and Subways you want but they are only drive-thru. Gas stations for 10 miles had no public restroom. I left Portland around 9 a.m. under sunny skies and was passed by many day riders. Without my full load I was flying. About 16 mph. After St. Helen's the little towns got further apart. I ride almost 20 miles to Ranier, where I eat and drink up in anticipation of a big climb. It is almost 800 feet in 3 stages, so not too bad. Plus it is now overcast and temps are in the 70s. In fact with the leaden skies and cottonwood duff coming down, it looked and felt like snow. I made it to Clatskanie around 3:00, a little chilled, where--ta da--I've taken a hotel room. Not an em

Friday July 10, 2020, 38 miles (61 km) - Total so far: 2,350 miles (3,782 km) So look . . .thank you to everyone following and commenting through the guestbook. Jonathan I did not see your input until now, after the fact. In fact last night the groundskeeper also said the same thing: historic route 30 AND Columbia River trail all closed. I kind of didn't want to believe it. So set out at 7, rode around the first barrier, a bit of caution tape already ripped. Then got to the stairs where I hauled everything up. Still on trail toAinsworth State Park, where the mother of all signs came out. Stop. We will shoot. Almost. The sign said you are trespassing, you will be evicted, you will have an ordinance written out. You are under surveillance. We have cameras. The law will find you. Again, I rode around the sign. But after a mile my heart was not happy. I turned around and got on Interstate 84, for 22 miles. I thought: I'm saving a stretch for the "next" time. I knew it w

Thursday July 9, 2020, 70 miles (113 km) - Total so far: 2,312 miles (3,721 km) Today is why I tour. It was stunningly beautiful. But first, back to the guy I met on the road yesterday. I had just ascended a pretty rigorous up, maybe a 1,000 feet. It involved a switchback, hard to describe the terrain, but the roads are terraced out of the hillside and you just go back and forth on the brown, stubbled slope. So when we met at the top we had both come up, but his up could have been DOUBLE mine, as the descent into Maryhill was quite steep. The reason he was turning around and going back was because the day before had been windy. And, he'd met a lady at Subway who told him the winds get worse the more you enter the Columbia Gorge. It reminded me of that lady in Norway on my last day who tried to steal my victory. I went ahead and did the Lysevegen and had the best memory from it. So, yeah, I'd hated the wind the day before, and I'd also heard the wind is worse in the gorge,

Wednesday July 8, 2020, 37 miles (60 km) - Total so far: 2,242 miles (3,608 km) What an incredible day of riding--maybe because a short day, maybe because no crazy wind like yesterday, maybe because--and this will sound counterintuitive, but the climbs were fantastic. First, I loved sleeping at my Covid campground last night. So peaceful. I literally had the whole place to myself. No concerns about food or water. The three nice fishermen guys handed me kind a quart of water as a parting gift. God bless them. In the middle of the night I woke up and saw a bright orange moon shining down on the river and the lights on the Oregon side blinking. Because of the water and fuel, I was charged up this a.m. I didn't have a lot of miles but I knew there would be climbing. The wind was more like 12-13, doable compared to yesterday. I did about 20 and felt like I needed to eat. I wanted to listen to that voice and not put things off. I was in one of those rock cut-outs, with rocks and rubble

Tuesday July 7, 2020, 43 miles (69 km) - Total so far: 2,205 miles (3,549 km) For a thousand miles at least I forgot about Covid, not because it doesn't exist, but because it wasn't part of my world. My world is turning the pedals. So since entering Washington state I've been reminded. Masks are required in all stores and restaurants. And, because of Covid now I have to be aware that some campgrounds are closed. I'm trying to get around this. Last night I did not get good sleep. Winds really came up and I began to worry that I wouldn't make it to Seaside on Sunday. This a.m. broke came somewhat leisurely. The shore of the Columbia River is a sooty, black sand. It gets into everything, and there was seagull poop on my tent and other plastic. Plus the wind didn't help. On the road I definitely was slowed down by the wind. I made Umatilla by 8 a.m. There was a grocery but it didn't carry the stuff I was looking for. I did restock on tortillas, crunchy, salt

Monday July 6, 2020, 72 miles (116 km) - Total so far: 2,162 miles (3,479 km) Wow. Ok. What a day of riding. There were ups and 72 miles is not a short day, but it was all about threading the truck traffic needle. Let me first start out by describing the weather/landscape. This is a high desert. It is dry--despite the river. The colors on the hillsides are muted, brown, taupe, the colors of deer. I'm not particularly inspired by it, but it is certainly dramatic. You don't know how high these hills are until you start to climb them--when at the top you discover you're crossing a range. That's how it was when I came down to the Walla Walla Valley. About the weather. Mornings start off chilly, around the upper 40s. I am wearing 4 shirts, tights, and a jacket. Most come off within a few hours. When it heats up, it really heats up. Dry heat. So I have to be careful to continually drink. Again it suppresses my appetite. Today after Touchet there were no more towns. No more

Sunday July 5, 2020, 67 miles (108 km) - Total so far: 2,090 miles (3,364 km) Leaving the SP early, of course, I wanted to beat heat and wind. Almost immediately I began to climb. At first gradual, using my second gear, then things ramped up. Behind each rise was another behind it. I climbed for over 13 miles. Sunday traffic was light. After descending I noticed traffic picking up, folks wanting to beat it home after the long holiday weekend. It was nothing but campers and trucks pulling boats, etc. At times I had a verge and at times it disappeared. Around noon I finished a breakfast sandwich bought in Pomeroy. I also made up a lemonade bottle. This was all very prescient for what was to come. At 50 miles began another climb. Not sure but maybe 4 or 5 miles, after topping, I coasted into Dayton, WA. Covid is very much on people's minds. You are REQUIRED to wear a mask in stores. I have to get used to this instinct once again. In Dayton I was feeling a little sick, I think from t