Long Haul Truckered Out

And so it goes...
After
1023 pictures taken
802 miles ridden
44.5 miles ridden/day (average)
31 new friends/acquaintances
14 boxes of mac and cheese consumed
12 books finished
7 flat tires (including 1 explosive blowout)
5 climbs of 1-2000 vertical feet
4 tubs of peanut butter
3 states
2 successful hitchhikes
1 official rest day
0 crashes
and the list goes on...

It's actually July 23rd. The day that allegedly would arrive despite our doubts. Over a month ago, we packed our gear on a porch in Seattle, looking ahead with only our uncertainty and spandex.We rode and rode some more, but the days ticked by, congealing together into a sticky mass of west coast America. Suddenly it was July, and we could practically see the Golden Gate. So here we are; The last RPM's, revolved, the last hill, climbed and the last rainstorm, weathered. To have an adventure was our ultimate goal, and succeed we did.

No one told us it would be easy, and boy was no one right. After a harsh reality check in lovely Arcata, CA, we realized our biking selves were no longer the youthful, jovial whippersnappers we were in June. We had consumed ourselves. Out of respect for our bodies, minds and the trip itself, we decided to stop riding in Arcata and travel to San Francisco by alternate means. We were disappointed, we were sad and we were embarrassed, but pride still emanated. Before this trip, the farthest I'd ever ridden was 35 miles in a day. By mid-July, 35 miles was considered a quasi-rest day.
So we didn't go as far as intended, but who cares? The goal was adventure, and location was a second thought. At first we thought we let everyone down, we failed, but in retrospect, Au contraire! I have the tan lines to prove this was no Thursday night cruiser ride. I'm so happy that I even had the opportunity to embark on this journey, much less ride 800 miles over some of the most breathtaking scenery around.
In short, we did it. No one defined what "IT" was, but we did it, and with precision and dedication.

Bill Clinton once told the press: "Mistakes were made." In our press conference, our statement would be: "Lessons were learned." For example: When planning a bike tour, use pessimism to your advantage. Here we were, two strong 20-somethings. 1400 miles on our first tour? No sweat...Eh not so much. Both time and terrain are easy to under-estimate, so over budget and save yourself the stress.
Next: Pushing it only hurts you in the end. We rode 760 miles before giving ourselves a rest day. Excitement permeated the early weeks of the tour, so we got on our bikes every morning without a second thought. The human body--though amazing--can only take so much. We learned this the hard way, and our lack of rest was a factor in our burn out.
Finally, the biggest lesson of the trip: Relax! The whole point of a trip like this is to be without a schedule. Stop at a redwood grove, jump into the ocean, stop for that ice cream you've been craving all day. There's no  destination that won't exist tomorrow. We made the error of rushing to camp, and in doing so, missed some fabulous opportunities.

Now this all sounds so sour, but please don't get the wrong idea. Having never toured on a bike before, we were greenhorns and these lessons needed to be learned. As I often told Ally during my nightly complaints, "it's all in the job description." This was no beach-side getaway, and I'm sure glad it wasn't. We were tested again and again, both mentally and physically. From hills to rainstorms to unspoken tensions, this trip was the best teacher I've ever had. Classroom learning is nice, but try riding 75 miles in the rain. You'll learn a whole lot more about yourself than Mrs. Darcy could ever teach you. Conversation was next to impossible on the road, so we both spent hundreds of hours inside our own heads. I know we're good company, but after 10 hours of hearing our own stories over and over...you get the picture.

So it's over. We're home, the bikes are in the shed, panniers empty,--waiting to be bleached--and muscles recovered. We made it. Safe and sound, looking forward to the next time we load up the long hauls and set out for a west coast sunset.

Thanks for sticking with us! Couldn't have done it without you.

More like Soregon

My how time flies! Since we last spoke, big moves have been made. For example, due to budget cuts, our  terminus is now San Fransisco, CA. We've also entered our third out of 3 states, and pedaled over 750 miles! The days have begun to ooze together too much to give you a stat sheet, but we're doing more miles every day, eating significantly more, and seeing some of the most beautiful sights we ever have...so many, in fact, that we're both sick of the word "scenic."

Camping on the Lord's Lawn

Happy birthday, America

We ended our last conversation in Portland, OR. Our plan was to catch a ride back to Astoria, and continue like nothing had ever happened. However, we realized we are on a bike trip, and thus decided to ride back to the coast. An easy 80 miles...or so we thought. After a day full of tribulations, from my knee decided to spasm every other pedal stroke, to getting pretty well lost, we entered the hamlet of Carlton, OR. Deep in Oregon wine country, this cute little village featured quaint B&B's, classy cafes and BMWs in driveways. None of those things were encouraging. Luckily, the ladies at the Carlton Community Worship were as kind as could be, and gave us the church lawn to sleep on.  Something I hadn't anticipated about this trip is working around being homeless -- asking ourselves on a daily basis, where will we sleep tonight? And yet, we find homes and friends everywhere, in churchyards and four year-olds and dogs on leashes.  In grocery stores, outside restaurants, inside diners and on the rainy crossroads of highways.  In every town we've ridden through, we've found people interested and eager to help.  In this, we find a home for every situation and every moment.  We awoke early, on the birthday of this great nation, and rode an easy 50 miles to the coast. Fresh produce stands dotted the wayside, so naturally we sampled the fare (including an all-American cheeseburger and root beer) and enjoyed the sunshine. It felt great to be on the Great Pacific once again.

Fort Stevens State Park

The Darlingtonia californica: a
carnivorous plant local to southern
Oregon and northern California.
Darling, isn't it?

The subsequent coast was fairly uneventful. We rode through Newport, a seaside tourist town with a superb bike shop, then came Florence, Coos Bay and Reedsport in quick succession. All these coastal towns blend together after a while. Bakeries, diners, small boutiques and pastels made the rest of the Oregon coast whiz by.  We were sad to have left behind our surfboard-towing friends but more were to be made.  We played on the sand dunes south of Newport, listened to a fellow tourer, Mars, play classical guitar and then traveled to Sunset Bay, a traffic heavy, relatively boring day.  Unfortunate, given that it was Dory's birthday.  Though Dory's banana boat (that is, a banana sliced open, filled with marshmallows and chocolate chips, wrapped in tin foil and thrown in the fire to roast) birthday wishes did not come true (we failed to purchase groceries in Coos Bay and the "grocery stores" in Charleston were selling rotten bananas), the evening was saved by a new surfing friend, who produced, seemingly from nowhere, a delicious coffee cake with which we drank champagne.

A milestone!

Side note: I just finished Ken Kesey's "Sometime a Great Notion." Not only is it one of the most incredible literary feats I've ever witnessed, but it's an ideal tour guide of the Oregon coast. Every town we went through was mentioned several times, and I had a background on area before entering. Highly recommended, whether traveling through or not.

Thank you, California.

We arrived in California on July 10th, to sunny weather and giant Redwoods.  Our first BIG hill of the trip was preceded by a mild food-poisoning incident.  Dory survived, made it up the hill, and will be avoiding walnuts for the duration of the trip.  The redwoods immediately amazed us.  Those of you who have visited know that there are no words, and those of you who have not will have to imagine.  We rested at the southern tip of Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park -- our first rest day since Portland.  And here we are in Arcata, California, which seems to be the Missoula of the Pacific Coast.

Redwoods depend on dense coastal fog for
one third of their annual moisture intake. FACT

California is surprising. I was picturing a glittering metropolis full of glamour and bikinis beginning at the "Welcome to California" sign. Instead--much like Oregon--there is heavy backwood influence, small, forested towns, and big (the biggest yet) hills. Of course this will change as we get closer to our final metropolis, but surprising nonetheless. On a positive note, the first morning we woke up in CA, I could tell we were in a new place. Not only were we surrounded by the biggest feats of natural engineering I'd ever seen, but the air was new. Crisp, refreshing, downright fragrant. What a way to wake up.

More pictures, philosophical musings and self-validating blabber to come...

P.S.  Click on the ads on the blog page -- they'll send us a check, if we get enough clicks...$$$$

Slowly but Shurly...

Simply inspiring

273 miles ridden (1,042 to go!)
218 pictures taken
27 energy bars consumed
11 new acquaintances
7 days in
5 flat tires
4 small-town diners enjoyed
3 tubes flatted out
2 sunny days
1.5 jars of peanut butter eaten
1 crash

Shall we just do a quick shout-out to our number-one from-afar Supplies, Gear, Moral Support, Armchair Trip Leader, Mr. Peter Bender?  Not only has he given us over the phone directions, coordinated Warmshowers contacts and driven us from Seattle to Anacortes last week, it appears he's just sent us the care package of all care packages to our temporary Portland address.  Love you, Bender. 

Setting off in Anacortes

It's hard to believe that one week ago, we were still gearing up in Seattle. Already, the days have started blending together, to the point of quasi-Alzheimer's. Although the days are speeding by, each one has been unique, so here's a day by day breakdown thus far:

Day 1:
We left Anacortes at 11 pm, after a pleasant car ride from Seattle. The ride was hilly, curvy and beautiful. After following farmland and weaving through small inland towns, we were rewarded by sunshine and our first views of Puget sound, as we approached the small town of Coupeville. From there, we enjoyed a 35 minute ferry ride to quaint Port Townsend, and after stocking up and a short 6 mile jaunt, we arrived in Old Ft.

The ferry

Townsend State Park. ~50 miles including an early accidental 8 mi. detour. We were exhausted but excited as the sun set.

Day 2:
Saturday was supposed to be a 65 miler, but we were feeling our legs, asses and arms badly enough to break it up into two days.  It was overcast and slightly chilly so instead of obstacles, hills were opportunities to get warm.  We encountered our largest hill, 800 feet over three miles, which, today doesn't sound so bad, but we were daunted.  We learned an important thing riding up through the Olympic national forest, the things we dread on paper are not nearly as bad on a bicycle.  We stayed in Dosewallips State Park and enjoyed watching multitudes of "campers" enjoying nature.

Day 3:
Riding along the gorgeous Hood Canal--an inlet of the Pacific, dotted with oyster farms and sea-side cabins--we enjoyed sunshine and quintessential PNW views. Sunshine poking through the evergreens, while the smell of saltwater permeated the air. The riding was easy, skirting the canal, so hills were minimal and beaches were plentiful. At the end of the day, we rode through Hoodsport, a small resort town, and enjoyed our first picturesque coffee shop and fellow Tourer. Walter (or Valter in his accent) is an older German man riding to Tucson. Good for him. The ride ended at Potlatch State Park, where the campground host, in a southern accent questioned our ambitions passionately (if you goin' all tha way to Santa Barbra, ya shouldn't be stoppin here!). And then the rain started falling...

Day 4:

The culprit of flat #1

After saying goodbye to our chalk-wielding, energy-drink-seeking, pine cone-throwing, eleven-year old neighbor, "Snake...no, call me Blade," we began our longest day yet, 75 miles, from Potlatch State Park to Twin Harbors, and also when the first flat or the trip happened.  Not a bad day, but it started raining as we made our way into Aberdeen, and continued to rain until the next morning.  For the first time on the trip, we were wet, cold and frustrated. But...we learned a funny joke. Throw a piano down a mineshaft, and I'll show you a  flat miner.

Day 5:

Approaching Bay Center

An easy day in contrast to day 4. After leaving Twin harbors, we slowly approached the coast, until finally we saw the Pacific Ocean in all her beauty. Immediately after reaching the coast, my tire crapped out again, and we began our flat-fixing intensive training. The rain held off all day, and when we reached Raymond, WA, we enjoyed a delicious breakfast-lunch at the wonderful corner cafe. After a cloudy final 18 miles (which the book failed to inform us were extremely hilly), we arrived at the Bay Center KOA. This was practically an outdoor hotel, with wi-fi, unlimited showers, a general store and a bike shelter. We were overjoyed when the sun came out at dinner time, and we relished the warm rays while they lasted. We also encountered Ben and Claire, an Alaskan couple towing surf boards, and tour-surfing the PNW. They spent the next few days with us, and proved to be great touring companions.
 
Day 6:

It was miserable, raining, slow-going for the first 17 miles to a town called Naselle.  Attempted a little something we like to call hitch-biking -- sticking out our thumbs while riding, hoping one of the seemingly omnipresent pickup trucks would pull over.  Not even the Jelly Belly slugbug showed us compassion.  Something good, however:  we enjoyed the best breakfast of the trip at Bapie's Corner Cafe in Naselle.  Ate the standard -- scrambled eggs, hashbrowns and toast and of course...coffee.  Upon exiting Bapie's, Shurly's front tire was completely flat.  Surprise surprise, but a blessing in disguise.  We set up tire-fixing shop on the intersection of Highway 4 and 104, stuck out our thumbs and were swiftly picked up by Ed and Janet who happily drove us across the Astoria Bridge, and into Astoria. Previously, we had set up a  warmshowers.org account--a touring cyclist community, where users offer housing, food, cars etc--and left a message for a couple in Astoria during our ride. Once we reached town, we got no response, and began researching hotels in the area. We found a Hostel, and as we were about to check in, Ben and Claire (the surf-tourers) invited us to share a yurt at the nearby Ft.

Dramatic sunset

Stevens State park. Mind you, these yurts are first come. After groceries and a few wrong turns, we were cut off by a minivan, who, in the end, sharked the last yurt, and so we were forced to tent it. After setting up our tent, the warmshowers couple called back, excited to host us, but of course, we had already passed their area, and couldn't take them up. Luckily, the sun came out, and we enjoyed a dramatic sunset on the coast, near Cape Disappointment.






Day 7:
We woke up, made pancakes, and were picked up by my friend from NOLS last year, Isabelle, and now are staying at her house for the next few days in Portland.

So that's that!  More to come.

Adventure Gestation

And so it begins. Tomorrow morning, we depart from Anacortes, Washington with two bikes, twelve waterproof bags, four pedals, six water bottles, two helmets, a bit of trepidation but mostly, a plethora of excitement.  

The beautiful Yellowstone River
 (and Allyson Carroll)

The marvelous cake pop

After a relaxing weekend spent passing through Montana (Jake in Gardiner, and Dory elsewhere), we drove the eight hours to Seattle in style.  That is, two bikes precariously perched on the rear end of my adorable blue car. Despite our moral dissent towards a certain large corporation, we enjoyed a new culinary innovation, the "cake pop." Additionally, Dory gave me a crash course on the inner workings of the male and female brains, respectively. 

   

It's strange to think that nine months ago, I was planning on spending my summer preparing to leave for Spain and Dory had a summer of changing diapers and feeding grilled cheese sandwiches to toddlers to look forward to.  We were hiking up the Rattlesnake one Saturday and started talking about camping on the beach.  And then bicycling.  And then how much we'd both like to have a grand adventure and spend a summer free of all the things we both carry around.  So it isn't a philanthropic venture, or really even a vacation, but rather an experiment in corporeal freedom.  How far can we travel on our own bodily power?  Add some nuts, bolts, steel and waterproof panniers, and here we are in Seattle at Bender's lovely Queen Anne home with an idea that's completed its nine-month gestation. Stay tuned...

Before...

...after

Preparing to prepare

All my gear. Seems pretty insignificant huh?

Hey everyone! Welcome to our blog. As you may or may not know, Dory Athey and myself will be setting out to conquer the pacific coast via bicycle beginning June 24.
So far, just the preparation has been a whirlwind. we've been buying gear--which is all specialized and hard to find somehow--installing said gear, packing it, planning the trip and then doing it all again. Although it's incredibly exciting, it's also stressful. An expedition like this takes significant time and resources, and we're lucky to have had both, as well as incredible help from our community. The future is unsure at best, but I take solace in the fact that we're as well prepared as possible. Before we take our first northern pedal strokes, it's a good feeling to know we've done our homework (or so we hope).
 So the gear is finally packed, our bikes are finely tuned and our legs... not so much (but we're not worried). Beginning in Anacortes,WA, we'll wind through the puget sound area before popping out in Astoria, OR. Our country's Independence Day will be spent in the fine city of Portland, OR, and after that, we're not sure of the timeline. Our terminus will lie in the Santa Barbara area, whereupon we will meet my mom on August 1st, and carpool back to the 303.

Our projected route,
 The Pacific Coast Hwy.

So that's the plan! We're in for rain, flat tires, logging trucks, beaches and good people, so hopefully you guys can live vicariously through our adventure. We've never done anything like this before, so comments, advice and enthusiasm are all appreciated.
I know there are thousands of travel blogs out there, but stay tuned on this one...I promise it will be a crazy ride.