Aug 4, Nehelem Bay State Park, 59 miles, Avg=10mph

An relatively easy day, we started about 7:40am and got to the first tunnel pretty soon. This tunnel and the nearby Astoria bridge have achieved legendary status on the Pacific Coast route. Just before entering the tunnel the cyclist should start a warning light for motorists to warn them about bikes in the tunnel. The Kirkendal and Spring book show cyclists pushing the button for the warning sign and the mere fact of a warning sign raises the profile of this rite of passage on the coast route. On my last trip we stopped to pose for pictures, we did the same again this trip.

 

After posing for the required pictures we continued on without mishap and soon sighted the forbidding Astoria bridge over the Columbia. The bridge has a slight hill on the north side, then a couple miles of perfectly flat riding, then a surprisingly steep climb at the southern end. The traffic was relatively light, we we had no difficulties. It's not really feasible to walk over this bridge, the sidewalk is too small and the bridge too long, over four miles. As with my previous crossing, I followed the advice in the Kirkendal and Spring book to take my place in the lane and not invite drivers to attempt passing me without getting into the other lane.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In Astoria we stopped at a bike shop for brake pads and some thorn resistant tubes for Tom. Some coffee later we started out of town but only got as far as a hotdog stand. After a nich chat with the vivacious and lovely Sandra we continued on highway 101 toward another bridge crossing. Just at the start of the second bridge we found some very good blackberries, I ate a couple hand fulls. Over the bridge we continued on the very busy 101 passing through various small towns and beach areas until we got to Nehalem.

There we met the three Canadian girls we had met a few days earlier, Andrea, Jessica, and Lea. They brought us up to date on their adventure with flat tires and assistance from friendly people. They remind me of the farmhouse Blanche DuBois line in a Street Car Named Desire, "I've always depended on the kindness of strangers." They seem to lurch from one misadventure to the next, coming out OK with a positive attitude and the help of strangers.

The campground at Nehalem is very nice with sandy tent platforms, plenty of table space, and very nice showers. I remembered the site from my last trip because of the platforms. After Tom and Roy went to bed I stayed up a while longer to chat with our Canadian friends. They are full of youthful enthusiasm, eager to get to San Francisco for a music concert. I'm always encouraged by young people out doing fun things besides sitting home watching TV or twitting on their mobile phones.

Aug 5, Cape Lookout State Park, 49.7 miles, Avg=9.4mph

Today was a trying day. We got an early start and made it to Tillamook before noon, eager to enjoy some ice cream at the Tillamook Creamery Association. Along the way we were passed by three fast moving cyclists from Seattle also going to San Francisco. They passed too fast to find out this information but we found them at the creamery still eating ice cream when we got there. Two gals and a guy, they talked and cycled fast, ate fast, and walked around scouting out the scene fast. I was tired just watching them. Like other fast cyclists, they didn't carry much extra weight, either on their bikes or on their bodies, fit and trim comes to mind. Interestingly, the guy had a basket on the front of his bike where he carried his drying laundry and snacks. It reminded me of Waltraud from my previous trip down the coast, she had a basket on the rear of her bike. It was a handy place for daily use gear.

I opted for a milk shake and a short tour of the factory, then on to some Taco Time food for lunch and finally the rest of the days ride. We decided to take the Three Capes Scenic Route. This route goes out to Cape Meares and then down the coast to Cape Lookout, It starts out flat along the Tillamook bay, cool in the shade of tall trees, a sea breeze blowing in off the bay with the scent of far away places. However, this is only the loss leader part of the route. After succumbing to the temptation and too late to return, the route turns upward over several severe climbs. I couldn't pedal the whole way and walked a bit. We had three rather difficult but not long climbs, each time descending back to sea level to start the next climb.

At the top of the highest climb the three fast riders caught us again. I was waiting for Tom and Roy when they pedaled up, gave me a friendly nod, and huddled in animated conversation. After some debate, they decided to take a steep side trip down to see the Cape Meares lighthouse. I had to admire their energy. Some fast riders use their speed to arrive in camp early, never letting side trips deter them from their goal of long miles and early arrivals. These three used their speed to see more than I could.

Finally at Netarts the road flattens out again and we cycled in to the state park without difficulty. The showers in the campground are warm and very welcome as the sun had come out in the afternoon so we all got pretty sweaty climbing the steep hills. The traffic was moderate and the drivers mostly courteous. We met Kevin, a middle aged cyclist who had recently quit his job in Las Vegas and moved back to Oregon. He wasn't in good shape but getting it done in slow easy stages. He had a trailer and by his account about half the gear he started with. Over the next few days he shed even more gear, including the trailer!

Aug 6, Beverly Beach State Park, 59 miles, Avg=8.8mph

We got an early start and finished late on a hard day. We had three climbs today, the first two were the longest. The climbing wasn't so long but it was steep. Most of the day was along the very busy US 101, busy with speeding trucks, cars, and RV's. The noise was relentless and nerve racking for me. We stopped at Wakinda Cape to see the surfing and ship launching reported to go on there but I was sort of disappointed, there just was not much action. Most of the way had a good shoulder but it would disappear at certain places and the traffic would not slow just because there was no shoulder. While not physically the most difficult day, this was certainly most difficult day of the trip so far for me. Somehow today I was particularly sensitive to the noise and crowded feeling the traffic generated.

The best part of the day was finding a small alternate road just south of Depoe City, at Otter Crest. For the next 6 miles we climbed and descended small hills with virtually no traffic, in blessed silence with only the birds to keep us company. After this alternate rejoins 101 we had only a couple miles before we got to a treacherous left turn into the campground. The hiker/biker site is nice with only one fire pit to promote a sense of community. An itinerant drunk who implausibly has a nice bicycle and Ibex BOB trailer has taken up residence, he's annoyingly talkative. If I wasn't so tired I might take the time to find out his history, it's bound to be interesting. But I'm exhausted and my nerves are about shot so I just don't have the patience to listen to his advice in between chugs from a bottle wrapped in a paper bag.

Also in the campsite are three TransAm'ers finishing up their cross country trip, this is the second group of Trans Am'ers we've met. They were slowly working their way north to Portland having finished their crossing faster than planned. They did have the very best equipment I've yet seen. Expensive Surly Long Haul Trucker bikes and Arkel panniers. Interestingly, they joked that they had seen enough of cycle touring and only hoped someone would offer them a few bucks for the gear. I took this as just talk and didn't embarrassed them by offering to buy their gear right there. Perhaps I missed a great deal on some very fine Arkel bags.

 

Toward evening we were yet again joined by the three Canadian girls. They camped by the others closer to their age to swap stories about the road, punctuated occasionally by the slurred off topic comments of the now drunk hobo cyclist. Unfortunately, the story swapping got a bit loud, keeping Tom and Roy up late. I slept soundly, as usual. I suppose I should thank the fates that no one steals my tent with me in it, I would probably sleep through the whole thing.

Sometimes it's difficult to get dinner and snacks out to the campsite, especially for the ultralight cyclists like Tom. The solution: tie your plastic bags to the back of your bike. It works. Look carefully, you'll see that Tom has made sure to have his soda pop and Pringles chips.

 

Aug 7, Honeyman State Park, 63.2 miles, Avg=9.8mph

We got off to a late start because of the party last night, but still beat everybody else, except the drunk, out of camp. I don't really understand where the hobo cyclist gets his energy but it was impressive. The road was up and down today but not as many big climbs as the day before. Just before Florence the road rises above the ocean clinging to a cliff side that affords some spectacular views of the coastline below. At the second crest is a tourist center with tours of a sea lion cave. We didn't have the time or inclination to take the tour. They do have some expensive treats for sale.

 

 

The ride down each side of two biggish climbs were fast and chilly from evaporating sweat. The traffic was steady but not as bothersome as the day before. That was a welcome relief and made for a much more pleasant cycling day. We ate lunch at a small restaurant in Waldport with only so so food. Waldport has a thriving tourist trade that supports a number of restaurants and trinket shops. We stopped at a place that claimed to have famous chowder and probably should have taken the chowder. I had the "bento" lunch, not bad but very forgettable and not very filling for a hungry cycle tourist.

 

Just before I turned in I saw what I thought was the three Canadian girls riding in and setting up camp on the other side of the camp, close to some other people we had not met yet. These girls spent the next couple hours playing a guitar badly and laughing raucously. Again my friends Tom and Roy suffered most from the nocturnal shenanigans.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aug 8, Sunset Bay State Park, 55.3 miles, Avg=9.6mph

The first twenty miles were hilly and difficult, with two good size climbs. We finally dropped into Reedsport for some snacks and the all important coffee break. We had hoped to get coffee in Dunes City but either we missed the town or there isn't much of a town to see. Some fast flat cycling got us to Northbend and Coos Bay. We were trying to decide whether to spend our upcoming rest day in Coos Bay or cycle on to Sunset Bay. In the end we found out the library was closed so we decided to do our laundry and press on to Sunset Bay. The little town of Charleston, just before the park entrance, has a couple stores and a cafe.

In camp we found yet another set of three girls, the legendary three girls who slept under a tarp at Beverly SP. The hobo cyclist had told us several times about the three girls who lived under a tarp under a tree just below our campsite. They had made a very big impression on them. Energetic and having a good time, their equipment was at the other end of the spectrum from the Arkel gear owned by the three TransAm'ers from two nights before. They are on a short tour of the Oregon coast and appear to have obtained their bikes from the Goodwill store where they live. They didn't have a tent, just two plastic tarps. The put the smaller tarp on the ground and sleep under the larger one. I felt badly for them later that night when the rain started. But, when we arose in the morning they were quite dry and in very good spirits. A real example of attitude over environment.

We spent today blaming the three Canadian girls for the late night party, the second in a row. We all fell readily into the persona of cranky old geezers who didn't like having their beauty sleep disturbed. Today I looked up to see the three girls riding in, all smiles and hellos. It turned out they had spent the previous night in Florence. They were completely innocent of disturbing the delicate sleep of the old grumpies. Chagrin comes to mind, and the thought that even at 62 years old a person can still learn from their mistakes. It does create a new mystery, who are the loud girls who play a guitar especially badly.

We also had two other camp mates here, a young man with no short term plan, only that he wanted to end up in Portland within the next couple weeks. He had ridden from LA, fighting the prevailing north wind most days. Another middle aged cyclist who kept to himself. The arrival of the three Canadians transformed the camp site into a bubbly cauldron of estrogen. Not only were the men outnumbered but the energy levels were all with the girls today.

Aug 9, Sunset Bay State Park, rest day

The two sets of three girls took off this morning in a cacophony of good byes and see you later's. They carefully exchanged email addresses and made plans to meet again along the route. I sat at the table vicariously enjoying the energy radiating from the twitter style conversations covering everything from hot boys to the state of women in North America and the proper organic diet for a cycling tourists. With excitement for another day of adventure they left in great spirits, suddenly leaving the camp silent and a little drained. We wouldn't see any of these cyclists again, but we would later hear about the Canadian girls, still cutting a myth making path to San Francisco.

Tom and I lounged around the campground during the day. We did manage to join a nature walk in which a ranger pointed out some useful and edible plants. I learned to recognize red elderberry (poisonous) and I think I can recognize Salal, an edible blueberry like fruit. I also learned that thimble berries and salmon berries are not the same, and according to the ranger the thimble berry is quite good.

Later that night the real guitar playing late night carousing girls from Honeyman showed up. At first we didn't think it was them because we believed the noisy group was composed of three girls,not two. But, as they were unpacking their gear I asked one in she by any chance had a guitar. She immediately replied that yes she did and wondered if I wanted to play it. I declined but suggested she needed a set of bongo drums, with I calculated would really send Tom over the edge, to which she replied that she not only had a set of bongo drums she also had a shaker as well. With Tom's face sinking fast, we all began to expect another long night of a badly played guitar and penetrating laughter. Fortunately, the girls were tired and soon went to bed.

Aug 10, Humbug Mountain State Park, 59.5 miles, Avg=9.9mph

We got off at our usual 8am and almost immediately began to climb up the Seven Devils Road. The road climbs rather steeply but with little traffic. It was cool and nice for the leg work and relatively soon we gained the top from which we commenced to ride a series of small hills, eventually dropping down a steep and fast ride to Bandon. This road passes through a thick forest of short trees, the regrowth after clear cutting.

 

 

 

 

Bandon is a really nice little town with a very attractive water front area. We spent rather too much time there getting some fish and chips lunch ( the food was great but the service very slow). and some delicious fudge. Stuffed, we finally rolled out of town through a long series of low rolling hills along busy highway 101. With a good north wind at our backs we made very good time and before long got to Port Orford, which has a good grocery store.

 

Supplied with food for dinner and breakfast we pedaled the last few miles, again over rolling hills, to Humbug mountain. There we found Keven and another set of cycle tourists we had not met yet. Later that evening two more groups pulled in so by the end of the evening all six hiker-biker sites were occupied. This is a kind of lonely hike/biker campsite. The sites are separated from each other by thick brush and formed on a terraced hillside. I prefer the community sites that bring cyclists together in the evening to swap tall tales.

Roy and Wayne hauling wood into camp, a warm fire is always nice.

 

Aug 11, Harris Beach State Park, 56.43 miles, Avg=9.0mph

We got off with good spirits after a good breakfast of boiled eggs, carrot bread, yogurt and a banana. The previous night was cold and the morning not warm yet as we started out of camp. The road starts with a gentle climb, a few ups and downs for the first few miles to Gold Beach. Gold Beach has a nice touristy harbor area along the Rogue River with jet boat rides up the river and the all important coffee shop. While Tom and Roy drank their coffee most of the rest of our campmates cycled in for coffee and snacks of their own. We were the first to leave and immediately started the 800 foot climb to the high point of the day. Roy had a flat along the way, which we found out about while Tom and I waited at the top, from some other cyclists .

 

 

Soon enough we descended steeply back down to the ocean. When we left Gold Beach the beach area was covered in fog, when we got back to the beach we found it still covered in fog. We're experiencing a very pronounced inversion with the weather warm up about a couple hundred feet and very cold below that point. For the rest of the day whenever we descended to near sea level it was chilly and foggy, but hot and clear whenever we climbed up out of the cold layer.

We left Gold Beach about 11am, without having eaten lunch. We vaguely thought we would eat at Pistol River but we missed the turn off because we mistakenly thought it was along highway 101. Soon after leaving the Pistol River area we started climbing again and went through several miles of rather difficult up and down hills gradually ascending. Slowly, the others from the morning coffee break passed us on the road, usually while we were resting. Sometimes we would pass some of them, we seemed to play leap frog for most of the day.

Finally we got to the entrance of Harris Beach State Park where we again considered the option of continuing on for another 10 or so miles in order to reduce the distance (69 miles) for tomorrow. In the end we decided to spend the night here so after dropping our gear at the hiker/biker campsite we pedaled into Brookings for dinner. We all had a huge Mexican meal and returned for showers and bed, tired after a more difficult day than we had expected in the morning. Tomorrow we leave Oregon and enter California.