7/31/01 Island View Camp

37 / 5479 miles

For a place that only gets 20" of rain every year, it sure looked like rain today. Put on my raingear as a heavy mist fell on the bike as I loaded up. Even though I was here only a short while, I feel I know Dorene and Ken. Just like the family back in Missouri, I'm grateful to be part of the caring Gramlich clan.

Rode through Oak Harbor on my way to Anacortes. The mist went away but the sun was having a tough time finding a hole in the clouds. Stopped to talk to a few people at Deception Pass. In 1792, Joseph Whidbey, sailed through the narrow passage and proved it wasn't a bay as the Spaniards thought but a turbulent channel. Looking down off the bridge, the current in the channel looked pretty fast. Dorene told me that ships still sometimes use the channel, but it's pretty dangerous.

The bridge over Deception Pass

I stopped at a lookout to view Padilla Bay when I met Allen and Rena Gray from California. They were touring the Northwest with thoughts of relocating. I told them to check out Port Townsend. When Allen found out about Nancy's memorial fund, he promptly pulled out a donation. It's great knowing Nancy is touching people's lives wherever I go.

"Where ya' goin' pilgrim?" one guy asked from the cab of his truck. When I told him where I'd started, another guy walking down the street exclaimed "Virginia!" I talked a little bit longer with them, then headed off to get a quick bite to eat. It was about noon, and I wanted to be early for the 2:00PM ferry to Sydney, BC.

While waiting to board, I talked with a family headed to the San Juan Islands for a few days on the bikes. I had just told them about a British couple I had biked with in Montana, when riding off the inbound ferry is Alan and Maggie. If there hadn't been a fence between us, I'm sure we would have been hugging and jumping up and down. All I got to do was touch their hands and say hello when customs were directing them to keep moving because they were blocking taffic. I guess they'd been on the Islands. They were headed for Bellingham to begin the Alaska portion of their trip. I wish I could have spent a little more time with them.

The ferry picks up passengers and more cars at Oreas Island and Friday Harbor of the San Juan Islands (USA) before heading to Sidney, BC (Canada). I just walked around admiring the sun off the water and the wide variety of boats we passed. Talked a bit with a man from Joplin MO, on a trip paid for by his kids for his 80th birthday that was yesterday.

Friday Harbor was pretty big. Saw a bunch of other cyclists boarding, two guys with trailers, a tandem, and two women. After we got underway again, I went down to talk to the guys with the trailers.

Saw several boat planes

Pat and Tracy introduced themselves and when I said my name was Jim, they asked for my last name. "Damico" I said with a question in my eye. "Wandering the world" was their reply. Turns out Pat is a room-mate with the bike mechanic I talked at length with in St Louis. Plus, it sounds as if they've only been a few days behind me the whole trip. They even rode with Bubba, Iain and Margaret.

So, the three of us spent the rest of the voyage comparing experiences on the road. And once we docked, we decided to stick together to Victoria. Tracy offered to call the hostel which was in downtown Victoria some fifteen miles from the port of Sydney. Good thing too because they were full. Got directions to a campground about halfway between Sydney and Victoria. Already seems like we've been riding together for weeks.

I think the plan is to ride into Victoria tomorrow and see if we can get a spot in the hostel for tomorrow night. Still undecided about Vancouver. Pat and Tracy are at the end of their ride. After Victoria, they head to Seattle to rent a car for the drive home.

7/30/01 Oak Harbor, WA

28 / 5442 miles

While Kerry took Perry to swim lessons, I said good-bye to Jon. "I wish I could go with you." he said. I could see the excitement in his eyes. That's the feeling I need to keep refreshing. That "excitement of adventure" is what got me started on this in the first place.

Spent the morning just wandering about town, checking out all the businesses and Victorian homes. Did a tour of the museum too. I know you find this hard to believe, but I sampled the gastronomic fare at three eateries, Bread & Roses Bakery, The Landfall Restaurant and Dogs-A-Foot. All very good. And even stopped at the new food coop on the way out of town.

One of the highest spots in town

Lots of immaculate Victorian homes

Caught the ferry that would take me to Whidbey Island. The thirty minute ride across the Strait of Juan de Fuca was windy and cold but I was still blessed with sunny skies. From there, it didn't take me long to get to Oak Harbor.

One last look at Port Townsend

Ken Travis, Dorene's husband, was waiting for me when I rode up their driveway. Ken is retired Navy. We got to know each other a bit before Dorene got home from her shop called Oaktree, a craft business specializing in cross stitch. She showed me the wonderful catalog of her own designs, most hand painted patterns. [oakxstich.com]

After a very good dinner (Ken is the chef and chief bottle washer around here), we discussed my options for seeing Victoria. I can take the ferry through the San Juan Islands to Sydney, then bike the fifteen miles to Victoria. I don't think I'll go to Vancouver. Postcards I've seen make it look like New York City. Maybe I'm just a country boy at heart but through it just doesn't sound fun.

7/29/01 Port Townsend, WA

70.5 / 5414 miles

I think the Marque de Sade that designed this section of the route should be commended on a job well done. Like yesterday, I took roads not through town, but up and over. Names like "Pacific Heights" and "Ludlow Ridge" give you the flavor. And these increases in elevation would possible be worth it if I had a view but I'm surrounded by gargantuan trees.

The weather was mostly cloudy although I did see some blue sky from time to time. I lost my shoulder but traffic wasn't bad for a Sunday. One thing, no one waved today or yesterday. I think I'm out of the rural areas and too close to the cities. Too many people in a hurry to no where.

Saw these two foraging alongside the highway

Silverdale was having 'Whaling Days' so I stopped to wander among the booths. A boat was on display from "Three Years on a 12-foot Boat" because the author is from the area. I got a free long distance call at the Sprint booth but just got mom's answering machine. Passed the submarine base at Bangor, WA.

Took a break at the Kitsap Memorial State Park. Seems the park is a popular starting point for a lot of bicycle day trips. Several couples stopped to talk, one even on a tandem. Continued to try and call my cousin, Dorene in Oak Harbor but no luck. On the other hand, Jon Meullner, a friend from the internet said I was welcome to their guest room if I wanted it. Cool!

"You're just in time." Jon said. The whole family was headed over to a friends for a potluck dinner to watch the final stage of the Tour de France, the world's most famous bicycle race. After getting cleaned up, I joined Jon, his wife Kerry and daughter Perry, for the ride (in a car) across town.

Besides running a successful internet web-design firm with his wife, Jon is president of the Port Townsend Bicycle Alliance and also president of the Chamber of Commerce. His wife, Kerry is also heavily involved in leadership roles in the community, so much so they both have been approached to run for city council.

Dinner was great, and quite a departure for me. I had pumpkin soup and what I thought were sliced strawberries were in fact smoked salmon. A wonderful salad and bread completed the meal. Plus a Fat Tire Ale (what else!) to wash it down.

During commercial breaks, I was amazed at how knowledgeable my new friends were on the Tour de France and other big races. And four and three quarter year old Perry was not to be denied her spotlight either.

The main even was watching Lance Armstrong of the US Postal Team win his third straight Tour de France. Other riders said Lance was just unstoppable this year. He has been such an inspiration to so many because of his fight against cancer, then to restart a racing career that surpassed anything he'd done previously. Hey, he lives in Austin TX. Maybe he'll come and ride with me a bit.

Lance Wins!

Back at the house, we talked about a wide range of subjects, from living in Port Townsend to traveling around the world. Jon and his family seem to have found a good mix but as Perry gets older, Jon and Kerry are kindred wanderers. They'd like to tour some as a family but are also looking for an extended trip to Europe.

Again, I found a cyber-cyclist angel in Jon and his family when they opened their home to this road-weary traveler. It's people like this that make the miles all worth it.

7/28/01 Belfair State Park

61 / 5344 miles

Heard good news yesterday. Emily is engages. I know she called home a few times as we rode together. Her partner, Peter was to meet her halfway between Sisters OR and Corvalis. And that night, he popped the question. Wonder if Emily biking with such an eligible find as myself spurred Peter on. I'm happy for her.

Had all my raingear on as I said my good-byes to the gang at the hostel. They had decided to call it a weekend and go home because of the rain.

The problem was the rain never started back up. I'd only riden a few miles when I was soaked under my rain jacket. No point keeping it on at the point. My windbreaker was fine, but I kept the raingear close at hand. Hardly saw a soul on the road this morning.

A brief respite from the traffic

By the time I reached Shelton, the sun was out. So much for weather forecasts, but who's complaining! More friendly librarians here as I checked my email. The only problem leaving town was a road called "Northcliff." You get the idea, straight up, no shoulder, lots of traffic, and it was lined with thorn bushes. Ouch!

The busy traffic would be with me almost the rest of the day. In Belfair, I even had trouble crossing the main street because of the steady stream of traffic. When I pulled off the main route to head toward the Belfair State Park, I was shocked when traffic actually increased even more. Plus, the bike lane was so overgrown, I rode in the car lane most of the time. Didn't seem to slow the cars down any.

The park is full but I'm alone in the hiker/biker area. The rangers at the gate agreed that they've seen a lot less cyclists this year. I'm stuck in the corner next to two roads, one of which is the busy one I just rode in on. Lots of kids around and most adults look my way but don't seem talkative.

Still looks like the clouds could open up again any minute.

7/27/01 Elma, WA

65 / 5283 miles

Yesterday, as I rode north, Mount St Helens was my constant companion. Even at 35-miles away, it was impressive (as was the even taller Mount Rainer north of me). I kept trying to imagine a bicyclist, much like myself, riding this same road that morning in 1980 when the mountain sent an ash plume miles up into the heavens. Just hard to imagine.

Another gloomy morning and cooler too. I was unable to find the Klein Bicycle factory, even after getting directions at a service station. And here I thought I was biking on flat farmland, when those funny map route designers found a hill that went straight up. It wasn't even paved, just oil and gravel.

All of a sudden, I realized people must be unhappy here. No one waves, no one. And the dogs are some of the meanest I've found across the US.

The sun played behind those clouds until I arrived in Centralia. The library was in the town square, almost as a centerpiece. It was another of the Carnegie Libraries that were set up all across the US. And the librarian let me sneak onto the computer for a full two hours. Good thing too because I had a lot of email.

Surprising, the bulk of the encouragement was to keep going all the way, don' quit. And deep down I know that's what I'm going to do. I just have to adjust my lofty expectations and enjoy this. If I'm alone with no one to talk to, I just need to do something, hopefully something productive.

I think the hard part is not having someone who "knows" you, at least a little bit. I tell the same introduction story a half dozen times a day. And I barely get to know them when I'm back out on the road again. I take the pictures and write these lines, but sometimes I just want to share the experience with someone, now!

After getting something to eat, I stopped off at Willie's Sport Shop that used to be Willie's Schwin Bicycle Shop. "We just had to find our niche in order to compete with stores like WallMart." they said. The shop sells all sorts of sporting goods including stuff like team uniforms. And it's also a Schwin shop too.

My afternoon ride was pretty good with very little traffic once I got out of the city. The sun was out but I was going to pay for those two hours in the library because of the increasing headwinds.

Talked a bit with a woman who was harvesting her bee hives. And at the Curfman Farm on South Bark Road south of Porter, I found some unusual flower beds. One fan shaped arrangement had a sculptured peacock body and a head at the base. Another was a full-size matron with a bright red flower hoop skirt. I just had to stop and take a picture.

A creative flower garden
at the Curfman Farm

Kind of made it late into Elma, WA. Stopped at several places asking about the Gray's Harbor Hostel but most people had no idea what I was talking about. One guy though it was near the fairgrounds.

Almost miraculously, I found it (thanks Nancy). Quite a crowd here tonight, nine inlcuding myself. Linda gave me the option of sleeping in the 'old camper'. My RV dream come true!

Mack Van Wyk, Marshall Campbell and Fred & Fran Strong are members of a Boeing Bicycle Club and just out for a few days riding, using the hostel as a base. When Fred heard I had also hiked the AT, he told me about two other bike club members who were hiking it this year. When they asked if I'd like to go with them to dinner, I couldn't refuse . And Mack was kind enough to pay my tab. People are wonderful.

As I write this tonight, it's raining, with more rain forecasted for the whole weekend. I've been lucky because I haven't had much rain since Kansas. But weather forecasts also for more sunny skies again on Monday. Hope to be in Oak Harbor by then. Already planning for my side trip to Vancouver and Victoria.

7/26/01 L&C State Park

59.5 / 5218 miles

When I got up at my usual early time, I discovered hordes of fishermen were already staking out their claim of the river bank. Last night, a woman tenting nearby with her family caught an eleven pound salmon. He looked huge to me. One man out for a few days fishing walked over to ask about my trip. As we talked, he just kept looking at the bike and saying over and over "That's incredible" with an air of disbelief.

As I've come to expect here in the Northwest, it was pretty cloudy. The route was a major highway to Longview, a big shipping port on the Washington side of the Columbia. Even with an early start, truck traffic was pretty heavy.

I was thinking a bit about my TransAm finish yesterday. Because I've set a pretty lofty goal with my first bike tour, it just didn't have the impact it should have had. Part of me wishes that I'd only planned to do the TransAm and then continue if I was having fun. Maybe down the coast or up to Alaska. I don't think I'll let myself be committed to a specific plan again. Famous last words!

Besides myself, I'm also doing this for Nancy's memory and ask her daily to give me a little support. I'm going to try and forget my finish date. I'll get there when I get there. Probably earlier if I change my route through the Rockies. We'll just see.

Coal Creek Road reminded me of the roads in the Appalachians, twisty turning with sudden ups and downs. And the dogs too! But I pretty much had the road all to myself.

Very strange round barn along the way

By the time I reached Castle Rock, the sun had come out. Was having trouble with a slow leak in my rear tire, so decided to put in a new tube. As I was changing it, who should drive by but Sharon whom I met yesterday on the ferry. "Monty didn't think you'd make it this far by lunch." she smiled.

After getting something to eat, I decided to take a five mile detour to see the Mount St Helen's Visitor Center. I had a short day planned and the ten extra miles wouldn't delay me that much.

The Center is the largest of several in and around Mount St Helen. There was a film and some pretty detailed displays on the eruption which took place on May 18, 1980, killing 57 people. Outside I got a chance to visit with people from Alabama, Colorado and Michigan. Now that I'm off the TransAm, people seem even more amazed that I've biked all the way from Virginia.

Once I got past all the tourist traffic to Mount St Helen, I pretty much had the road all to myself. Some times it was through residential neighborhoods, other times thick forests, and even some corn fields as I paralleled the Cowlitz River.

When I saw the sign above "Betty's Place" for ice cream, I decided a vanilla milkshake would taste pretty good right then. Inside were Don and Ron. Don is a pilot who lives here but winters in Hawaii. "Most airports are outside the city, and with no transportation, I decided to buy a folding bike." he informed me. Besides the usual local stuff, Don told me that Klein Bikes are made near here. By the way the milkshake was wonderful.

One last stop before the campground was the St Francis Xavier Church. It was built on the site of the oldest Catholic Mission in the state of Washington. Father Blanchet came to the Northwest and built the Cowliz Mission in 1838. One item I found was a tree carved with symbols to illustrate the history of the world from a Catholic perspective. It had forty lines on it to represent forty centuries, showing relative events like the crucifixion. This was used to educate the indians. This learning tree was copied by many converted tribesmen throughout the Northwest.

St Francis Xavier Church

Camped out at the Lewis & Clark State Park. Forrest, the camp host, says I'm the first cyclist they've had here this summer. When I asked about hiker/biker rates, they were unsure. But just then the ranger was making his rounds. "Sure" he said. The hiker/biker rate was $6 instead of the usual $13, but it isn't written anywhere. Guess it pays to ask.

And I like the placement of the hiker/biker site, right in the middle of everyone else. I'm closest to the showers and bathrooms, have my own water spigot, and everyone stops by to chat when they see the bike. Looks like I'm a minor celebrity.

After asking about my adventure, Jerry & Marylou Northrup invited me over to talk around the campfire. Jerry is an electrician but retires in two months, which he is very happy about. Marylou is a few years younger but almost has her twenty years in as a teacher in Lewiston, ID. She was telling me about after all these years camping with their kids very summer, the first time they camped alone without them, she cried. All the kids are married or in college. We had a good visit till late.

7/25/01 County Line

57.9 / 5158 miles

Although I woke up to overcast skies, the temperature seemed warmer and there wasn't any fog or mist. Rode through sleepy Hammond and Warrenton. From one park, I had a view of the Hwy-101 bridge from Astoria to Washington state despite the clouds.

Even though it's shorter than the 4.1 mile Astoria-Megler Bridge, the ride across the bridge from Warrenton still seemed long. Especially when the shoulder almost disappeared over the high bridge span. It was rush hour in Astoria and again I had to cross the highway. Good thing I grew up on the city streets of Kansas City, riding roads most wouldn't.

Dangerous ride in rush hour across the bridge

The name Pig'n Pancake sounded interesting, so I decided to stop for breakfast. The library wasn't open yet, so I headed for the Maritime Museum on the waterfront. At first I though they were closed because of the major construction expansion going on. While most of the museum was open, the large exhibit hall was closed. As part of it's Naval History section, they played FDR's speech following the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

I get really irritated when people follow rules, even when they make no sense. At the library, they had two internet computers, one with a 15-minute time limit, and the other for 60-minutes. The hour-long computer didn't work. So, even though no one wanted to use the computer, the staff refused to let me use the 15-minute computer longer than the time allotted. My 'quick update' eNewsletter was bleak. I debated whether or not to be up-front with everyone following my ride. I guess I don't want it to be a surprise if I cut the adventure short. But today I did remember some similar feelings I had at the midpoint of my Appalachian Trail hike. That gives me hope that this will work itself out.

As the day wore on, the clouds disappeared and the glorious sun came out. That morning, Astoria seemed like a dying, dirty waterfront town but with the sun, the city seemed to blossom. Even though the TransAmerica Bicycle Trail route finishes at the museum, I decided my end of the TransAm would be at the Astoria Column. It seemed appropriate since I started at the Victory Monument column in Yorktown, VA.

I should explain that Astoria is built like San Francisco, with hills that go straight up. So, I tried to bike up the 600-foot Coxcomb Hill to the base of the column. Well, I made it part of the way. Even pushing it up was almost too much for me. But it was worth it.

The Astoria Column was built in 1926, standing 125-feet. Depicted in a continuous spiral mural up the column is the "westward sweep of discovery and migration which brought settlement and western civilization to the Northwest Territory." The view from the top was breathtaking, Or maybe I was just out of breath from climbing up the 164 steps.

The Astoria Column

By the time I stopped by the bike shops, Bikes & Beyond and Hauer's Cyclery & Locksmith, it was getting late. I think because of the mood-uplifting sunshine, I decided to push on instead of going back to the Fort Stevens campground.

But my route had me on the busy Hwy-30 between Astoria and Portland. Even though it's only a two-lane, the shoulder was big. It actually had a lot of climbing which I hadn't expected. I did laugh though when one pass measured 635'. Had a good view of Puget Island from Bradley State Park. I was relieved when I pulled off the highway to catch the ferry at Westport.

The ferry runs every hour and I just missed the previous one by ten minutes. Found a place out of the wind to wait. Monty came over to talk. He grew up here and met his wife, Sharon, on Puget Island. They now live in Castle Rock. When I complained about the overcast skies of the Pacific Coast, he said they get a lot more sunshine this far inland. Very good news to me.

A few walk-on's joined me as I pushed the bike onto the ferry. Leroy was taking his grandson, Dalton (age 6), across the Columbia River and back on the ferry. "You must have a lot somethin'" he said about my trip. When I had trouble getting Dalton to give me his name, Leroy couldn't believe it. "His older brother thinks he has a disease because Dalton talks from sun up to sun down, even past that." he smiled.

Dalton havin' some fun with his grandfather

Stepping off the ferry, I entered Washington, another state line crossed. Puget Island had quite a few farms for an island. Even for someone as used to wind like I've had, the north breezes here in the Columbia River valley were pretty cool. Crossed yet another bridge to Cathlemet. Even though the sun seemed high in the sky, a quick look at my watch showed it almost 6PM with ten more miles to go.

The road followed the river, sometimes next to the Columbia's banks, other times it would climb high along the bordering mountainsides. As I rolled into the County Line Campground, I had worked up a sweat.

As the wind quickly gave me a chill in these wet clothes, I talked a bit with camp host, Larry. He confirmed what I'd been hearing all across the nation from Virginia. "We just haven't seen the cyclists this year like we have in the past." I sure hope that isn't a trend.

This river is just amazing. It's so wide it looks like a lake. I think it's about two miles wide here at the campground. About five miles downstream from here, I saw a half-dozen windsurfers taking advantage of the Columbia's world-renowned winds. I couldn't believe the speeds these guys were able to achieve. Their see-through sails reminded me of dragonflies as they wove past each other on the water. And while cooking dinner, a huge container ship swept past. I couldn't even get the entire length in a photograph.

So huge, it looked close enough to touch

All-in-all, a good day. Here I sit writing in my journal, listening to a good radio station out of Portland. Now, without a guidebook, I guess I should figure out where I'm going tomorrow.

7/24/01 Fort Stevens

61.6 / 5100 miles

I was able to sneak out of camp without waking Bruce or Laura. Another wet, misty morning. Lot's of fog. The views from the beach of the surrounding shoreline cliffs reminded me of those Japanese woodblock prints with half the world hidden in the clouds. It was hard to get comfortable gear wise. On the uphills, you got hot and sweaty under the jacket, but then you got very cold on the fast descents.

Was unable to see Haystack Rock at Cannon Beach because of the mists. When I stopped for lunch at Seaside, the sky was just starting to show herself. At the Seaside Turnaround, the end of the Lewis & Clark Trail, I met Paul Moskovity, owner of a bike shop in St Louis called Re-Cycled Cycles. We talked about bikes of course, and of places we had in common.

Lewis & Clark in Seaside, OR

By this time, the sun was really coming through but the wind was also picking up speed. Most of the day had been on busy Hwy-101 but the route called for back roads all the way to Fort Clatsop National Memorial.

After what seemed like a long climb through thick forests, I suddenly came upon heavy road construction. The road looked to be widened but the surface for now was loose rock, for the next three of four miles. One of the signal people asked where I had come from. he must have radioed it to everyone because all the workers I passed yelled "Virginia!"

Good thing I have a mountain bike

Two dogs came out to great me today, barking loudly. I slowed down and gently talked to them like I always do. But this time, I felt their teeth graze my calf muscle. I yelled "No!" and they lost interest as I kept riding. Close call indeed.

Fort Clatsop was where Lewis & Clark wintered when they finally reached the Pacific Ocean. A replica of the fort was built and staff answer questions dressed in buckskin clothing. While taking a break in the sun outside, several people stopped to ask about my trip. When Beth and Jay Lillie heard I was planning to stay at Fort Stevens State Park, they invited me to dinner at their campsite. Great!

Fort Clatsop

The park is about ten miles off-route but I thought it would be a cheap alternative to a hotel in Astoria. The only problem getting there was crossing Hwy-101. Kind of hard getting a quick start when pulling a trailer but I made it safely across.

Fort Stevens was built at the end of the Civil War to protest the mouth of the Columbia River. In 1942, a Japanese submarine fired seventeen rounds from it's deck cannon at the fort. No damage was done but you can imagine the panic it caused with people thinking there was an invasion. There is a museum but most of the structures are gone except the concrete bunkers for the gun batteries.

After getting cleaned up at camp, I went in search of the Lillie's campsite. It wasn't hard because their church group occupied what seemed a half-dozen of the sites in one area. Jim recognized me first and began introducing me to everyone. Jay was raised in Portland and is retired military. Beth is a CPA from New Jersey who met Jay when he worked in Washington, DC. And they have two children, Katherine and David. Dinner was great and there was lots of it. Almost had a hard time getting back to my campsite because of darkness.

It was wonderful to be with people this evening but I'm back in the hiker-biker area alone again. It's amazing, that among these hundreds (and I mean hundreds) of campers I feel so alone. Not sure if I'll ever get out of this funk. Just try and take one day at a time I suppose.

7/23/01 Nahalem Bay

74 / 5039 miles

Cold and damp this morning as I broke camp. Changed into my rain gear just in case. Kind of 'in-between' weather. You work up a sweat in the coat and pants but it's way too cold to take them off. The road is windy and up and down.

Met Deanne and Ken who are cycling south for California. They said they camped last night at Cape Lookout Campground, reputed to be the best on the whole Pacific Coast. It was heartened when they told me that they had camped with eight other cyclists. Maybe I won't be so alone out here for a while.

Took a short side trip to see the Cape Mears Lighthouse. Still very overcast, so the view wasn't the greatest. Met a few folks there on a bike day trip. After that it was a bumpy ride back down.

Had a long ride to get around Tillamook Bay. But I did begin to see a few dairy farms. The area is well known for the dairy products of Tillamook Cheese Company. Hwy-101 goes right down Main Street in Tillamook, creating a lot of traffic congestion. The library had a couple hours wait to get on the internet, so I went and got some lunch. Also getting AYCE pizza was three Germans that were crossing the US motorcycles, one with a side-car. Cool!

Even though the wind was still pretty strong, the sun started to make an appearance. I took a four mile side trip to see the Tillamook Air Museum that was housed in an old WWII blimp hanger. The guidebook said you couldn't miss it and that was an understatement. Even four miles from town, I could see the hanger clearly (AIR MUSEUM was painted on the roof). Although the admission price was very high, I took a chance anyway. I've always wanted to fly and fantasized about the fighter pilots from the war. What amazed me the most was the huge size of the single pilot planes. Most of the American WWII planes made the British Spitfire look like a toy. My favorite was the P-38 Lightning.

One of the planes in the Air Museum

Lots of traffic along Hwy-101 after Tellamook, especially near the Tellamook Cheese factory. It gets over 750,000 visitors every year. Soon after Bay City, I once again get off Hwy-101 to follow the Miami River through the coastal mountains. I was pleasantly surprised by the easy climb through this valley with huge, steep mountains on either side. Sad to see a few clear-cut areas though in this beautiful landscape.

Making good time as I entered Nahalem. A few people had remarked about the Nahalem 'hill' but the sudden steep climb into town had surprised me. I was almost wondering if I was going to have to get off and push. (No, I pedaled the whole way to the top.)

Nahalem Bay

At the Nahalem Bay State Park, I met Bruce and his daughter camped at the hiker-biker area. They're from Corvalis and doing a couple week loop, heading south tomorrow. From his stories, it sounds as if he has toured most every summer since the 70's. Laura has only gone on a couple of rides with him, including a week on the Great Divide route in Colorado last summer. They remarked that they too were surprised not to see more cyclists this time of year.

After a long, hot shower, I took a stroll on the beach. The crash of the surf was deafening. And the wind was so strong you could see it moving the sand. Still, it's amazing that I'm here. I biked across the entire country. I even passed the 5000-mile mark. Hard to fathom.

I'm feeling better about the trip today. I'm looking at getting to Missoula before I decide about continuing or not. I think I need to break it down into smaller pieces. I probably had the same feelings during my Appalachian Trail hike back in 1998. Because I have more time now, I'm also thinking a side-trip to Vancouver would be nice. I just hope my good weather holds.

7/22/01 Pacific City, OR

69.2 / 4965 miles

Believe it or not, I was packed and ready to go before anyone else got up. Looking at maybe doing the Great Parks route from Glacier National Park to Pueblo, CO. That would at least get me back on the road and less isolated than the Great Divide route.

Said my good-byes and hit the road feeling good. Looks like the sun is going to shine all day. Yippie! Frank helped me with a route from their place so I go more-or-less west till I run into the TransAm route. A pretty peaceful ride. That is until I hit the highway.

For early Sunday morning, the road was especially busy. And while Frank thinks it's all for the casinos, I think with the sunshine, it's the beach that's calling.

At least a half-dozen eastbound cyclists have recommended the Otis Cafe as their best eats on the TransAm. Good thing they told me about it because I wouldn't have seen it. Otis, OR, is just the cafe, post office and a gas station across the road. I had to go off route about a half a mile. It was around lunchtime on a Sunday. Frank and Kathy warned me about a long wait so I was prepared when I met five other groups waiting to get in. Besides a few outside tables, there are only five booths, one table and six bar stools at the counter. The cafe had quite a few awards on the wall, mostly being for breakfast. My lunch was OK, but it seemed most people were still ordering breakfast, which was huge. Considering my mood and all the hype from other cyclists, it was good (I had gazpacho, homemade wheat & and black molasses bread besides my sandwich) but I'll have to come back for breakfast some time to give it a fair review. The couple next to me drove up from Corvalis just to try the place.

The famous Otis Cafe

From Otis, I followed Old Hwy-101 for a while. What a wonderful break from the heavy traffic. The road wound through thick primeval forest. I couldn't believe all the dark greens surrounding me. But eventually I had to merge back with the current Hwy-101, although the traffic didn't seem as heavy.

There's just something about the power of a forest

When I saw my first 'beach' sign, I had to stop. I can't believe I've come completely across the United States from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific. Beach access looked pretty sandy so I left my bike and trudged through the sand following others obviously headed for the beach. And behind a final dune, there it was, the Pacific Ocean. I wish I could have rode the bike down to the surf. I made it.

The Ocean!!!

The highway has a lot of ups and downs as it follows the Oregon coastline. At one of the road lookouts, I stopped to get a better view of the beaches down below. As I stood there, a van pulled up and out climbed three Tibetan monks in their orange robes from the passenger side. One came over to me to ask about my travels. But I forgot to ask him about his as he was clearly far from home. He had a big smile as we said good-bye. Maybe we were brothers of the road.

The beach at Pacific City

Had a little difficulty finding the small county campground stuck in a corner behind two hug RV campgrounds in Pacific City. Across the road, there was a lot of activity on the beach. The sun was still shinning, making it a wonderful day. Back at the campground, the weekend crowds were packing up. By the time night fell, the campground was almost empty.

For some reason, I was pretty tired. After a quick visit to the beach and dinner, I layed down for a bit and found I had slept for hours fully dressed. Getting cooler, so I snuggle deeper into my sleeping bag.

7/21/01 Rickreall, OR

0 miles

Got to spend the day with Chris, his wife Elaise and their two children, Isreal (age 8) and Gabriel (age 4). We drove to Corvalis for daVinci Days. The best part was the Kinetic Sculpture Race. These human-powered inventions race a road course today but must also do a river and mud course tomorrow. But time is only one category judged, the others being Artistry, Pagentry and Engineering. I guess my favorite was Hog Heaven but The Drowning Man had some great engineering. We basically just wandered as Isreal tried to get Kinetic Sculpture trading cards from all the racers. And we watched a street performer with a pretty funny act. All that was outside the gate so it didn't cost us a thing.

There goes Fifi

Hog Heaven

We dropped Elaine off at work and the 'guys' headed over to grandma Kathy for dinner. I've got to meet Chris, who's into computers, Steve, a landscaper, and Dave, who works in the school district. Everyone is super nice. Even the kids, although they've got too much energy.

7/20/01 Rickreall, OR

0 miles

The plan is to head west from Rickreall, towards the coast on Sunday morning. No decissions need to be made other than that. We'll just go with the flow for now.

A cool, overcast day. Frank says a lot of Californians that move here usually don't stay because it's cloudy much of the time. We went into Salem to get food supplies and maybe I'll find a book to read on the trip. Kathy showed me the bank she used to work at. And we drove by Willamette University where their youngest son, Chris, works.

Feeling a little less stressed about the trip. This has been a much needed break.

7/19/01 Rickreall, OR

0 miles

Opened my care package from home and started going over all the maps for the second part of my journey. It didn't take much to overwhelm me. Sat there on the bedroom floor almost in tears. Put me into a major funk. Serious doubts blossomed in my mind. As lonely as I've been, the Great Divide route is even more isolated. Plus I probably won't see many cyclists, if any, for the rest of my trip. I'm seriously considering ending the trip at Oak Harbor, WA, home of more relatives.

Seems like all my plans and schemes for my future came crashing down with the realization that I get so lonely. I miss the comforts of friendship. I've been lucky with my riding partners. But starting this second half of the trip shows me how difficult it will be to move from home and find work elsewhere. I just might have to be forced to do it, or find someone to go with me (or maybe I'll follow her).

Spent the day being lazy, trying to let the things in my head settle. Listened to my new CD's, Lunasa (The Merry Sisters of Fate), a celtic group and Baaba Maal (Missing You) a West African I think is from Senegal or Mali. Both albums are very good.

Frank and Kathy have been so good to me. I've enjoyed being part of their lives, even if only for a few days. I tried to make some sense about ending the trip talking with Kathy. Not sure if I succeeded. Spent a ton of time on Frank's computer, getting my internet fix. I miss my computer.

7/18/01 Gramlich Farm

83.2 / 4895 miles

Talked with Cary Segall and his son, Craig, until late. Cary is a reporter from Madison, WI. This is his first bike trip with Craig who is a student at the University of Chicago. Cary did a cross-country trip many, many years ago. Since then, they've always done car camping trips. Craig is a little unsure of the trip, especially the biking part. Cary says he's in a little better shape than his son. I told Craig to get all the way to Missoula before deciding if he wants to go home. I think he'll do fine. I just told him about my first week in Virginia and that seemed to boost his confidence.

Finally, after I bought a few more music CD's, I could find a few good radio stations. Went to sleep listening to 'Hearts of Space' on public radio.

Cary and I are the early risers while Craig and the two Dane's are still asleep. Left the campground under cloudy skies.

If I didn't know better, I would have thought I was in Kansas, what with all the farm fields. I guess that this valley is typical of those on the west coast. Rick soil on a wide plain between mountain ridges. Besides the big fields filled with ripening grain, I passed at least a half-dozen vineyards. Later I learned that this area is one of the nation's top producers of grass seed. That's what all those combines are harvesting today.

A wonderful field of wild flowers

The day was partly cloudy or partly sunny depending on your disposition. The ride through the valley was generally flat. Stopped for some breakfast in Harrisburg before heading on towards Corvalis.

My arrival in Corvalis was abrupt. One minute, I'm among quiet farm fields. The next I'm on a busy, noisy highway entering this city of 50,000. I really seem to go into sensory overload when I get to cities this size. Corvalis had a lot of bike lanes like Eugene but still had tons of automobile traffic too.

After finding an AYCE Pizza Hut clear across town, I headed back to downtown. Stopped in a couple of bike shops and camping outfitters. Checking email at the library was a lost cause because of the long waiting line. Cashing a travelers check at the bank needed two pieces of ID, plus a fingerprint. I tend to do a lot of running around and get nothing done.

I did get a chance to stop at Rain Shed, an outdoor fabric mail-order business here in Corvalis. My tent bag and guidebook pocket on the bike were made with materials I ordered from here. Barb Phillips, the owner of Rain Shed, came outside to look at the bike and talk about the trip. "If you get a picture of the stuff you made in action, send them to me and we'll try and put them in the next catalog." she said.

I would have liked to see Emily again but I remembered her saying she had to be back at work on Wednesday. So I got a late start for my final miles to Rickreall.

From Corvalis, I rode the shoulder of a fairly busy highway. I pushed hard, partly because of the time of day and miles I needed to do. And partly because the heavy traffic tends to rush you along. At one point, I was able to move to a side road that paralleled the highway. It was nice to be on a quiet road but it's surface was in pretty sad shape.

In Monmouth, talked with Jon at Jon's Bicycle Station. He checked over my tires and gave me some advice for the area near Rickreall. Called my aunt and uncle to give them an idea when I'd be there. Fortunately there is a bike path from Monmouth to Rickreall.

Near Frank & Kathy's farm

The cloudcover made it seem later than it was. Cooler too. Passed more vineyards as I was looking for a house with a blue roof. Down the road, Frank was sitting in a lawn chair waiting for me. Good thing too because the house is surrounded by trees and I might have missed it.

Frank Gramlich is my grandmother's brother, so my great-uncle. His wife, Kathy, immediately took me under her wing. After getting cleaned up, she fed me a wonderful dinner while they looked on as we chatted. Already I feel at home.

7/17/01 Coburg, OR

70 / 4812 miles

Went to bed last night under a cloudy sky, listening to the murmur of the McKinzie River lull me to sleep. I was hoping for more stars like the other night at the Evereds. That night I could make out the Milky Way, even without my glasses.

McKinzie River

Still overcast as I set out this morning. Just followed the river on it's way west towards Eugene. Traffic picked up as the morning went and I got closer to the city. Saw lots of riverside cabins for rent, along with a lot of waterfalls.

One of the most well known of Oregon's covered bridges, the Goodpasture Bridge, built in 1938, is near the town of Vida. Didn't really want breakfast, so I stopped for some fresh cookies at the McKenzie Tea Trader (now called McKenzie Tree House with new owners) just before Walterville.

From there, I decided to go off the TransAm route to keep following the highway to Eugene. As a two-lane with a marginal shoulder, it was a bit stressful, especially with the logging trucks whizzing by. But at the outskirts of Springfield, the road widened to a four-lane and traffic slowed down too.

Talked to the guys at Hutch's Bicycle Store in Springfield. I was given a bike route map of the area and my eyes popped out of my head. No wonder Eugene is ranked in the top ten cycling communities in the US. From there I also found the Springfield Library to check my email (and to lookup information about pop-up trailers ).

You could bike for days in this city and still not cover all the bike paths, let alone the bike lanes. No bike line - use the sidewalk. Here I saw more bikes on the sidewalks than pedestrians. And no one had a problem with it. Cool! Meandered along the Willamette River until I crossed over into downtown Eugene.

Now, that's a bike bridge!

Made stops at the Lane County Visitor Center, but also REI, Paul's Bicycle Way of Life, Collins Cycle Shop and Barnes & Noble. I just didn't feel comfortable in this town, the largest city on the TransAm Trail. But I'm still blown away with the bike trails. Some of the bike bridges are works of art. And instead of a generic concrete pipe tunnel to under a highway, they've created a very pleasing underpass. Lots has been spent on these projects, but they are used a lot.

I even had a bike lane the several miles from Eugene to Coburg. Once I got to the RV campground, I found more cyclists. I met a couple of kids who just graduated from high school in Denmark. And a father and son from Wisconsin rode it too.

7/16/01 McKenzie Bridge Camp

49.4 / 4743 miles

I was wondering how I was going to pack up and leave this morning without waking up Emily who was planning on sleeping later. But when I returned from the bathroom, she was already up. We talked while I got ready and she reminded me I could stop by and visit her in Corvalis. I'll miss her company.

Even before I was back on the route, the winds were kicking up. Looks like I'll have some stiff headwinds as I climb this morning. At first, there were a lot of heavy trucks but when I reached the base of the mountain, I practically had the road to myself.

At one point, Dave rode alongside of me. He was just out for an out-and-back ride from Redmond to McKenzie Pass. We talked about unconventional travel and he asked questions about cross-country biking. He'd hitchhiked all over the USA when he was younger but would like to do it on a bike someday. Even though it was windy, you worked up a good sweat, plus the sun was on your back.

The climb was long but steady. Good thing traffic was light because the road was narrow without a shoulder. Near the top, I came to a place called "Windy Point". Boy, did they pick the right name. The wind was so strong, it was pulling at my jacket. I also got my first glimpse of the lava fields. Black jumble of lava rock everywhere. Kind of a spooky moonscape. Plus, the overcast sky didn't help any.

The edge of the lava fields

Even as we neared the lava fields, the road kept to the trees. But at the top, it finally had to cut across that mass of volcanic debris. Also at the pass (5325') was the Dee Wright Observatory, a structure completely hand-built of lava rock. Inside were windows made to point to all the major peaks in the area. And on top was a brass dial point out the same. The whole thing had a medieval feel to it.

Visibility was poor because of the cloud cover, which also kept the temperatures low. But as I started to descend, it also started to rain. Cold, wet and windy are such a dangerous combination. I quickly put on my raingear but I was still cold because of the sweaty clothes I had on from the climb.

But I figured (and hoped) that the weather would be warmer and dryer at a lower elevation. So, down I went. If I hadn't needed to replace my brakes before, I will now after that ride. Even after all these miles, I think this was my steepest, longest, windiest downhill yet. I needed to stop frequently because of the cramps I was getting in my hands from holding the brakes.

And with my prayers answered, it got warmer and dryer as I rode through thick forests of incredibly tall pines with the ground covered with ferns. This is the terrain and vegetation I'd expect in Oregon.

What different scenery!

As I was coming down, I met Bonnie going up. An elderly cyclist traveling alone, she was too experienced to worry much about anything. "I've cycled this route before, along with the Pacific Coast and the Southern Route twice." she proudly proclaimed. Bonnie told me she also biked all over Europe and New England. This trip she's headed for Wisconsin.

By the time I reached McKinzie Bridge, I was feeling better but tired. I'm a little discouraged by lapses in communication. Even using libraries, internet access is pretty sporadic. I guess I've come to depend on it too much. Hopefully tomorrow, I can get updated in Eugene, OR.

7/15/01 Evered Farm

76.9 / 4693 miles

I can't remember being this cold on a ride this whole trip. I had a lot of downhill miles from Ochoco Pass (4720'). The headwind actually was a good thing because it slowed me down. But my fingers quickly became numb despite having gloves.

Eventually, it warmed up. Partly because of the lower elevation and partly because I finally had to pedal. Outside the Ochoco Reservoir, I was able to strip off a few layers like my fleece gloves and windpants. But I ended up wearing my windbreaker till long after lunch.

I happened to be in Prineville just as a wagon train pulled through. It was headed to Sisters, OR, to celebrate that cities centennial this year. A local photographer offered to take my picture with the wagons as a backdrop.

Not something you see everyday

Now that the downhill was over, I really was feeling the headwinds through the valley towards Redmond. Even after having a late breakfast, I decided to get something to eat at Abby's Pizza. By the time I walked out the door, the temperature had risen a little but the wind had picked up a bunch.

I had wanted to do a few things today like check my email at the library and visit the bike shop, but couldn't because it was Sunday. When you're on a bike every day, days of the week have no meaning.

Since meeting the Adventure Cycling group headed east in Dillon, MT, I had been looking forward to staying with the Evereds outside of Sisters, OR. They said this was a touring cyclists dream. They also gave me money to replace the beer that they drank while staying there. Found the right address and followed the road to a beautiful home with a great view of the mountains. The only problem was nobody was home. Emily and I just layed in the plush grass relaxing. I might have even fallen asleep.

The Three Sisters

After a couple of hours, we decided to head into town. And yes, we were a little disappointed. It was another three miles to town and the city park. The big difference is that this city park charges for camping. I left Emily in camp while I went to the store for dinner.

As I was heading into the store, a man approached. "I'm Jim and maybe you've heard of me." he smiled. It was Jim Evered and his wife waved from the car. In not time, he had picked up Emily and I, plus all our gear back at the city park and taken us back out to their place.

Jim and Patty have been taking in TransAmerica Bicycle Trail cyclists and Pacific Crest Trail hikers for years. It's all been by word of mouth, but they also keep a close lookout like they did today at the store. They've converted one of the garages into a rec-room, complete with pool table, cots, TV, VCR and refrigerator. The backdoor to the house is unlocked so we can use the bathroom.

After showers and laundry, I cooked some dinner in their kitchen. But Patty ended up making me some more (garden burgers and pieces of cantelope). So with a full stomach and a beer in my hand, the four of us had some great conversation. Both Patty and Jim have led interesting lives, always learning and doing. And it shows in their daughters, one of which just completed a year in Brazil as an exchange student. I just wish my travels brought me back here again.

Today I've been on the road exactly three months. If I think about the three and a half still to come, I feel a kind of dread. Best not to think about it, just look at one day at a time. I've had a great time and have every expectation of more to come. Measurements of time and distance don't mean much anyway on an adventure like this. Soon, I'll be meeting some distant relatives here in Oregon. And now that I'm boat-crazy, I'll be riding up the sea coast with thousands of boats to drool over.

Bubba, Iain and Margaret must have taken a short day yesterday because they never made it to the campground. I wish them well on their final few days to Florence, OR. And tomorrow I say good-bye to Emily too. She takes a different route, heading towards Corvalis, her home. It has been refreshing just being around her. I pledge to keep a few of my pre-trip promises like stretching every day and to attempt to eat sensibly. Emily has inspired me because of her vegetarianism, her yoga and her daily chi-gung practice. But I'll also will miss our discussions too.

Some have asked about my health and I'm here to report all is well. I think I've lost about forty pounds (down to 165 lbs). No more problems with the lump near my gallbladder or the frequent coughing I had in the beginning. I think endurance and strength-wise, I've probably plateaued. My butt has calluses but thankfully no blisters. And sitting for prolonged times on the saddle hasn't affected any other anatomical parts down there.

Up and over McKenzie Pass (5324') and the Cascades tomorrow. After that, it's all downhill to the ocean.

7/14/01 Ochoco Divide

55.6 / 4616 miles

Kind of hard getting a good nights sleep on the floor, even with an air matress. Emily tented outside next to the church, probably got better sleep than the rest of us. So, it didn't take much to get us all up and going early.

Had a nice view of the valley in the early morning sun. Traffic was very light. Saw one guy on a motorcycle pulling a trailer with a Plexiglas bubble windows at the front so his two dogs could see. Up ahead was a narrow gorge but I thought we would turn before that. I was fortunately wrong.

Painted Gorge

The Painted Gorge is by far the narrowest canyon I've been through. The morning sun on the high cliff-tops was awesome. The view didn't diminish at all when it split off toward the John Day Fossil Beds Visitor Center. Our route followed Mountain Creek up out of the gorge.

After so much beauty, it was disappointing to chug uphill for the next twenty miles. It seemed to go on forever. At one point, I thought my odometer was broken because the numbers weren't changing. They were, but it was painfully slow.

The downhill from Keyes Summit (4357') went all the way into the town of Mitchell. No kidding, I didn't have to pedal once for the whole seven miles.

Another downhill, this time into Mitchell, OR

I was hungry, so I stopped in a greasy-spoon called the Sidewalk Cafe. While eating my burger, the waitress/cook was questioning the regular customers about Bush's tax refund. "I know the big spenders will get their cut first and if there is any left over, we should get some." she said. "I wish the government realized that it's the little guy that makes this country what it is."

I wandered about town to visit Henry, Mitchell's black bear. He was given a home here when it was found out he was going to be destroyed back in Iowa. I have to say he was the healthiest black bear I've ever seen in captivity. Signs hanging up on the fence try to educate the public about bears and how to coexist with them in the wild.

Mysterious tree of shoes!
In the middle of nowhere!

Again, it was getting hot. Had a bit of downhill until we started following the West Branch Bridge Creek. Although this climb was shorter than Keyes Summit, it was higher (thus steeper). It was slow going and I stopped frequently. Near the top, I almost caught up with Emily. So even though this was only a 50-mile day, we climbed over 5000'. Once I sat down at the Ochoco Divide campsite, I was exhausted.

7/13/01 Dayville, OR

56.8 / 4560 miles

Sprinkled off and on last night as Emily and I talked. Later, sometime after midnight, we heard something like laughter over a loudspeaker. Emily thinks it was ghosts (others said it was elk).

Emily is an early riser like me. But after all the heat I've had, I was surprised how cold it was. I actually had to use my fleece gloves for the first couple of hours on the road. And because we camped at the top of the pass, the wind-chill coming down the mountain made it even colder. But had a great view of the valley and Strawberry Mountain.

Had french toast at the Little Diner Cafe in Prairie City. The trouble with an early start is that a lot of stuff isn't open, like the Depot Museum.

From here, it was a leisurely ride downstream alongside the John Day River. At the city John Day, I took a side street to see if the Kah Wah Chung Museum, a Chinese store and herbal doctor memorial, was open. It was right next to the city park where I spotted a few tents and some bikes. One of the bicycles was a lime-green recumbent with a trailer. A quick glance around and I saw Bubba over by the drinking fountain.

I hadn't seen Bubba since Booneville, KY, but with all his shortcuts I thought he might have passed me. He told me that after spending a few days driving a rental car around Yellowstone, he cut across Idaho following the Snake River instead of taking the route up to Missoula. With him were two others, Iain from Scotland and Margaret was from Jersey. In Idaho Falls, ID, they were invited to be in the 4th of July parade, got to talk to the governor and be interviewed by the local TV station. Bubba just seems to make these things happen.

I should have taken a break in John Day. The museum would have been unique and I could have used the library to check my email. But for some reason, I felt I needed to be on the road. That didn't make sense since I was half done with my mileage and it wasn't even 10AM.

From Mount Vernon, the wind started to pick up. Had a little delay because of some road work but also met another cyclist. Rich was just headed across the state. Turns out he is a teacher in Corvalis, where Emily had given a violence prevention talk to the 8th grade. Small world!

Amazing! Saw a coyote and her two kits on the ride. I think it only happened because the young were playing too much by the river instead of hiding from cyclists with a camera. (or worse, a rancher with a gun).

First stop in town was the Dayville Mercantile. The story goes that Steve Cookinham was doing the TransAm until he got to Dayville and saw the "for sale" sign at the store. But it's again for sale. "I've got itchy feet" says Steve. Besides groceries, he and his wife, Linda, sell everything from horse shoes to incense.

The smallest City Hall I've seen this trip

Home for tonight is the Dayville Presbyterian Community Church who has been letting cyclists use their building, including showers with fresh linen for the last 25 years. Ever since the TransAm started as the BikeCentennial in 1976. Took advantage of a modern kitchen to cook dinner. It's nice not to eat alone.

I really find I miss the fellowship of kindred spirits, almost like a moth to a flame. It's not something I've experienced much in my life. And while I have a lot of differences with the cyclists I meet, we are much more alike because of this wanderlust to travel under our own power. Even though I'm near the halfway point, my thoughts keep straying to "after". I will either have to find a community of like-minded people or I'll have to work hard on keeping "my" identity alive without being assimilated back into the "normal" culture (like I do at times).

Margaret is from Jersey which is an island off the Britany Coast of France where she is a taxi driver. But she has a thick British accent. She met Iain years ago just now got together with him to bike across America. "I just love it here," she says with a big smile, "the people are so nice."

The hostel is looked after by Millie who lives next door. A sweet woman with a happy disposition. Her brother-in-law, Ed, was up from Tempe, AZ, to put in a new bathroom. "She doesn't even want to think about moving." he said. Ed got married in this church 41 years ago. After becoming a mechanical engineer, he moved to Arizona where he designed jet engines for business jets.

7/12/01 Dixie Summit

62.4 / 4503 miles

Said good-bye to the guys from Sacramento, and headed back through town. Lots of different styles of architecture. The Baker City Bakery had a nice ring to it, so I stopped. Since today's cinnamon rolls weren't out yet, I got one of yesterdays for 75¢. And it was huge! "I wish I'd done something like your bike trip thirty years ago." the baker said. "But then I should have opened this bakery back then too." He told me that after working in jobs he didn't like all his life, he'd finally turned his hobby into this baker about five months ago.

The plan for the day was to climb over three passes over 5000'. But it seemed we got an early taste climbing as we passed Phillips Lake. I could see Emily's white shirt off in the distance.

At McEwen, I checked out the narrow gauge Sumpter Valley Railroad. It only runs on weekends during the summer but there were quite a few cars and a steam engine on the tracks. After that, it was a steep climb up to Sumpter Summit (5082').

The Sumpter Valley Railroad engine

This scenery is so different than what I'm used to. Trees, lots of trees, plus the smell of pine. Passed the ghost town of Whilney, then on to Tipton Summit (5124').

I guess things come in three's besides summits. As I was starting to enjoy the downhill off Sumpter Summit, I spot three cyclists coming up. Turns out to be Daniel and Ariane, my internet friends from Switzerland. We've been trading emails since before the trip as we each got ready. It's so nice to put faces to the names. The third rider was Bill from Ohio, headed also for Virginia, and one of the few besides me to do this trip on a mountain bike.

My Swiss friends, Ariane & Daniel

As I approached Tipton Summit, nasty thunderclouds were forming at the top. Look's like my friends, the weather gods want to play. At first it just rained a little but they were very cold, big drops. Then I started to feel something solid. Hail, about the size of a chickpea started to pelt me. I parked the bike and rain for the trees, hoping the hail wouldn't get any bigger. It didn't last long and the rain started to lessen. I didn't get down the road a hundred yards before it started again, only this time harder. Again, from the shelter of a tree, I watched the chaotic acrobatics of the hail as it bounced off the gravel shoulder. Before it quit completely, the sun came out to shine upon the melting hail. I know it sounds silly, but I was having fun, laughing with the weather gods.

Started the long descent off the summit. That's what I always hate, working so hard to climb up, only to take minutes to fly down to do it again. Met Emily briefly at the store at Austin Junction.

Now was the biggest of the three, Dixie Summit at 5277'. The road was gradual but continued dark clouds lent an urgency to the seven mile ride to the top. I guess after meeting my friends, then the hail, our third was an easy climb. I was shocked when I rounded the corner and saw the sign for the Dixie Summit Campground.

As busy as some of the campgrounds in Idaho were, we found ourselves in an empty campground. After setting up camp, Emily and I talked a bit. Turns out she was a Peace Corp volunteer in Ethiopia. Now she works at a shelter for battered women. Her partner, Peter, is an acupuncturist. I really enjoyed her stories. She definitely feels like a kindred spirit.

7/11/01 Baker City, OR

45 / 4440 miles

Wow, an hour sure makes a difference. I was up and out of camp by 5:45AM. I even beat the cook at the Shorthorn Restaurant for her 6AM open time.

My ride today wasn't a long one, but it was uphill. And then there's always the heat. Followed the Powder River, a minature version of all the rivers in this part of the country; windy with steep rock mountains on both sides. Near Maiden Gulch, you could see where the old highway had been destroyed by a mud slide.

I kept thinking what strange country this is, more like the Desert Southwest. I can just imagine those early settlers making the tough trip across the Rockies to find not green pastures and timber, but this dry landscape.

As the day was heating up, I finally reached the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center. But it was on top of Flagstaff Hill, at 3684' with a mile long access road up. Not since Missouri have I had to get off the bike and push, but I did this time. I had heard so much praise about the Center, that my expectations were pretty high.

But walking among the exhibits, I was struck by similarities in both our trips. Lots of planning, costs, excitement to start, lightening the load, the weather both bad and good, and don't forget the boredom and loneliness. I could sympathize. As something of a kindred spirit, I felt I had more in common with the subjects of the exhibit than the good folks walking around inside.

Damn if that one mile access road was too steep for me to just let the bike go! Was hoping for a little more downhill into Baker City but didn't get much. First order of business was to stop at Flagstaff Sports. Then went for lunch at El Erradero Mexican Restaurant for a good cheap lunch special. Then to check email at the library. I hate to admit it, but I looked at a few issues of Trailer Life while there. Then decided to find the campground.

I think all campgrounds and RV parks should be commended for giving cyclists a discount. I mean compared to the big RV's with a load of family, our needs are small. The Mountain View Trav-L-Park split the tent site in half if you were willing to share. Heck, even with another cyclist, there's room for a couple more tents.

Emily is sharing my tent site. Sounds as if she's out for a couple of weeks biking back to home in Corvalis, OR. And Herb, Gene and Dick are out for a two week loop too. We all went to a local diner. I was admiring Gene's BOB Trailer because it was so shinny and new, very unlike my packhorse.

Emily kind of shocked me at how much different I am out on the road. She's a vegetarian and was doing some yoga stretches. Me, I haven't even tried to find meatless meals since Virginia. Plus the days I actually did stretching, I can count on one hand. And never have practiced any Tai Chi.

One the way back to the campground, a thunderstorm moved in. Just my luck, my rear tire was flat from a goathead thorn. Remember Pueblo? Did a quick tube change as the rain started. And my odometer sensor must have moved when the bike fell over at the library because it wasn't registering either. Hopefully my adjustments will work.

Emily is headed my direction and has offered me a place to stay in Corvalis. Maybe we can ride together for a few days. As I get ready for sleep, I can still hear the pitter-patter of the rain drops on the tent.