Tag Archives: Hwy 101

Biking the Pacific Coast: Arcata, CA to San Francisco, CA

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I needed to get back to San Francisco. I left my touring bike there a few weeks ago. I finished the ride from Portland and flew to Iowa to ride RAGBRAI with my family. Then in an unexpected twist of fate, I ended up in Tacoma, Washington by way of a giant Penske truck rented by some big rock singers with golden fingers, (and yes, that does mean that they have been on the cover of Rolling Stone).

So anyhow, as I make my way back down the Pacific Coast in a slightly quicker fashion than last time, it seems only fitting to reflect on the last leg of my bike tour down the same route.

So allow me to rewind approximately one month…

Arcata, CA to Humboldt Redwoods State Park (55 miles)

I left Arcata a crying sick mess. I wasn’t quite sure why I was leaving. As we may recall, the whole place really had a hold on me. I hadn’t been on my bike in a while, and I was worried that the 55 miles to the next park would be too much for my land legs.

On the way out of town I took Old Arcata Rd and avoided what the locals called a “dangerous stretch of the 101.” This lesser known route had few hills and spat me out in Eureka. I had already done this stretch of road once before. I had tried to leave Arcata several times. This time, however, I was planning on being more succcessful.

From there, I continued down the usual bike route, trying to knock out the remaining 45+ miles to Humboldt Redwoods State Park. I left late. Sunlight was a commodity. I was worried that I would just whiz through the legendary Avenue of the Giants without being able to stop and smell the roses, so to speak, but to my suprise, the campground was located right in the thick of it. I settled back into my routine of camping, cooking & sleeping with the company of a few cyclists.

Humboldt Redwoods State Park to Standish-Hickey State Park (41.9 miles)

Since I made friends for this leg of the journey, I was moving a bit faster than I am accustomed. Most cyclists cover about 60-80 miles per day whizzing through towns and past the scenery. I am more comfortable stopping nearly everywhere and biking about 30-40 miles. This was a pleasant comprimise.

The morning started with a leisurely stretch through the last leg of The Avenue of the Giants. We stopped for lunch in Garberville. I like Garberville. There were plenty of cute stores and restaurants and even a natural foods store to stock up on a few essentials. I bought a new phone charger at the local Radioshack and had a 6 foot blonde Rasta guy follow me around asking me about Portland and my neon pants. Of course.

We ended up at Standish-Hickey State Park which was quite nice. There was a well stocked store just across the street which had a small restaurant with w-fi. Allelujiah!

Much of the park was closed due to budget cuts, but there was still a great trail down the mountain to pretty decent sized hiker-biker camp centered once again around a bathroom. Since I was much later along in the “bike the coast” season there were a lot more people sharing the space with me. Just a month earlier (May-June) it was entirely possible that I would be the only one in an entire hike-bike area. This time around there were about a dozen other cycle tourists and a group of teenagers from the east coast all making their home in Standish-Hickey that night. Nearly everyone had left before I woke up, but that’s just the way I roll.

All in all, I learned a few things on this stretch of land. Mainly that there are many “world’s only one log house,” and also there are many “world famous drive-thru trees.”

Standish-Hickey State Park to Van Damme State Park (60 miles)

Shortly after Standish-Hickey State Park cyclists start following Hwy 1 instead of 101 bringing cooler weather and more pictureque scenery. I was dreading the ride out because of the ever feared “Leggett Hill.” Essentially its the largest hill on the West Coast standing at around 2000 ft from the ocean. Thankfully, the previous night’s park was halfway up the hill and a mere 1000 foot climb was needed to summit it. It was a challenge, but not completely unreasonable. The unreasonable part was that right after you think you have climbed the worst of it, another identical hill rises out of no where. Great, just great.

I stopped for foods and internet in Fort Bragg. Fort Bragg had beautiful beaches and tons of things to check out. There were also plenty of beautiful parks and campgrounds along the way, but I was trying to catch a plane in San Francisco by this point. I needed to get as far as possible each day. Sixty miles seemed like enough.

Van Damme State Park was also brimming with cycle tourists. The ocean & beach was just across the street, but I was too tired to really enjoy it. Oh well.

Van Damme State Park to Gualala, CA (53 miles)

By this point I was getting pretty used to the view. The terrain, while still breath-taking was becoming repetitive. You ride along the ocean and then dip down around a pristine ocean cove only to immediately climb back up to the top of the cliff over looking the horizon. Over and over and over again. Okay. Okay. So that probably doesn’t sound so bad, but the constant up & down really ruined the whole pretty scenery thing.

Along this leg of the ride I met a few cyclist friends and was invited to stay with some locals in Gualala, CA. The conversation all started when were sitting at a grocery store in small town California when the post office lady mentioned that she was on www.warmshowers.com and had had many cycle tourists stay with her over the past 10 years. Unforunately, however, she lived about 20 miles north of where we were, and there was no way were backtracking just for a place to sleep. Luckily, other locals at the grocery store really liked the idea of taking in cycle tourists and happened to live 15 miles south from where we were. They invited us to come stay with them for the night. We were able to cook meals in a fabulous kitchen, take real showers and do our laundry. Cheers to the kindness of strangers.

Gualala, CA to “Wilderness Camp” outside Tomales Bay, CA (61.5 miles)

With only two days left and well over one hundred miles to go, there was no time for tired. This was one of the only times I didn’t stop and eat out somewhere. I just pulled over along the side of the road and worked my way through a whole loaf of artisan bread, two avocadoes, a slab of smoked salmon and a box of cookies.

I passed up staying at the Bodega Bay Campground because I thought I could cover way more ground before nightfall, but as it turns out, there are not any campgrounds for a very very long time. By the time the sun started to touch the horizon I was scanning the ditches and fields for a place that I could hide my tiny wilderness sanctuary.

There was nothing.

I was able to fill my water bottles at some lady’s house, but she didn’t seem to interested in having a stranger camp in her yard. I tried to crawl in under a bridge, but a team of drunken teenage boys were yelling at me from across the way ruining my potential safe haven.

I tackled two more hills tired and cranky when darkness started to fall.

I settled for an overgrown bush next to a field of cows. I got a horrible nights sleep mostly because I was sleeping in a ditch, but aso because I was convinced that I serial killer was patrolling the area knowing full well that hundreds of ill prepared cycle tourists venture down that stretch of road everyday without being able to make it to the next state park. I woke up with the sun and was on my way.

“Wilderness Camp” outside Tomales Bay, CA to San Francisco, CA (59 or so miles)

The hardest part about this stretch of the ride was keeping straight all the directions. Granted the hills coming into San Francisco were some of the meanest I’ve ever encounter, but really, getting lost about four hundred times was really the kicker. The trick is to take the ferry.

I did, not, however, take the ferry. Instead a took the wrong rode, which led to another hill and another wrong road followed by another hill. I was about to break down when I stopped to charge my phone and checked my location. I was trying to get to the Mission District. I was only 2.6 miles away, but there were hills in every direction. I thought there was no hope until I learned of “The Wiggle,” a local bike route to avoid all the hills. My savior.

I wiggled my way to the heart of the Mission District where I was met with the smiling faces of Mono’s (of Mono Rides) parents waiting with paella on the stove. I had made it.

I never had a working spedometer. I have no idea how many miles I went (all my estimates are taken from Google maps which caters to car routes not bike routes). I don’t even knw how long it took me. I rested. I took time off. I made friends and had a wonderful time. But unfortunately, I think that I am done with bike tour. I think. Maybe. If I can quit, that is….

Other places I biked…

… Portland, OR to Pacific City, OR (106 miles)

… Pacific City, OR to Coos Bay, OR (142 miles)

… Coos Bay, OR to Harris Beach State Park (109 miles)

… Harris Beach State Park to Arcata, CA (107 miles)

 

Biking the Pacific Coast Trail: Crescent City, CA to Arcata, CA

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Harris Beach State Park to Crescent City, CA (27.3 miles)

Some in the bike touring world may think its cheating to stop at both the last city in Oregon and the first city in California, but I am of the slow travel variety, and I felt like this little city was worth exploring as well.

The ride was a lesiurely. There weren’t even any hills. The only difference was that I was now in Calfornia not Oregon and following signs that said “Pacific Coast Trail” instead of “Oregon Coast Trail.”

Crescent City was a whole lot of town. The beach was pleasant and even had a little bike path, which I generally appreciate. There’s a lighthouse and a long dock for walking and such.

I got the cheapest hotel room I could find, and charged up and wrote for two nights. I wish I could recommend this place, and I do, since they gave me the second night at quite a deal, but in reality, it smelled of bleach and there were all kinds of characters up at all hours of the night. It’s cool. I locked my doors and left the TV on when I left.

There is camping around Crescent City, Jedediah Smith Redwood State Park, but it is about 5 miles off route, and I wasn’t up for the challenge before night fall. I met an European cyclist duo at the next camp down that said it wasn’t worth the hills or the dangerous roads that it took to get them there. I’m sure it was a wonderful place to be, but I decided to stop at a park just South of Crescent City instead.

Crescent City to Mill Creek Campground (8.8 miles)

Basically, I just biked up a giant hill and then rolled deep (2.2 miles) into the Redwoods valley. The entire way down the hill into the campsite, I was cursing that I was going to have to climb that the next day.

California Parks are a bit different than Oregon parks. They have bear boxes at every site, the showers cost money, and there are a lot more rules and protections concerning the environment. Nothing too major, just asking people to be more conscious of their prescense in this very rare and protected nature. Definitely a bit more rusitc. No cell phone service or soap in the bathroom, this was some real camping. I enjoyed the simplicity.

I stayed an extra night.

Mill Creek Campground to Elk Prarie Creek (27 miles)

After climbing out of that mini canyon, I had to conquer and yet another hill before arriving at the next campsite, but the hills weren’t the only battle. I had eaten almost all my food stash and there was only one town to get food along the way. Kalamath.

I was able to get breakfast at an overpriced under-tasty cafe at the Trees of Mystery, but I found the whole place a bit disheartening and weird. (see right) Then, I made the mistake of skipping one gas station/food store, and wasn’t able to collect any more fuel for the day.

This landed me in Elk Prarie Creek with only oatmeal and unripe avocadoes for both dinner and breakfast. Awesome Amy, just awesome.

Therefore, I couldn’t stay for long.

It was, however, a pretty amazing park. There was a large open hiker/biker camp that was filled with cyclists from around the world. This park is one of the stops suggested by almost every Biking The Pacific Coast type book so there were lots of people there to hang out with.

They had an area that warned you of Wild Elk. At first I didn’t really believe there would be wild elk there, but lo and behold, there were wild elk, lots of them. The males hung out right by the campsite…

…and the ladies just down the road.

Elk Prarie Creek State Park to Arcata, CA (44.6 miles)

While California has been pretty good so far about having wide enough shoulders and space for cyclists, this particular chunk had a lot of construction, and difficult turns. The morning fog of the Redwoods and a the large trucks were a dangerous combination.

I was getting the hunger and losing steam by the time I approached Orick. All the closed up food joints and an excess of Redwoods souvenir shops upon entering town was extremely discouraging. I was worried that Orick would prolong my food drought when I stumbled on Palms Restaurant. I was able to eat three plates of breakfast deliciousness and even get internet for a couple hours. Allelujiah!

Orick was followed by many rolling hills and more construction. I rounded at least three beautiful lagoons and quite a bit of breathtaking scenery beforestopping again. There were a lot of places I wished I could have stopped and stayed at for a while, but sometimes you just need to keep pressing on. I had set up a couchsurfing host in Arcata, CA for the night and was able to meet him in the square for dinner.

Arcata has everything a cycle tourist could ask for: fresh food, laundromats, bike shops, outdoor stores, and an active social calendar. The people are friendly and the view is nice.

Since I arrived I’ve gone hiking in the Redwoods, visited sand dunes and the beach, gone to the farmers market, a Soul Night, a Pirate Radio show, a fundraiser for an at home birth, a rooftop party, a lobster feast and concerts galore. I even showed up in time for the annual Oyster Fest. Who knew?

As you can probably tell, I’ve been enjoying myself in Arcata (though I’m currently not there). I’m happy to report that I am alive & well fed and will be returning to finish up this project on community food security (suprise, suprise) by weeks end. I plan to be biking my way to San Francisco come first week of July.

Other places I biked…

… Portland, OR to Pacific City, OR (106 miles)

… Pacific City, OR to Coos Bay, OR (142 miles)

… Coos Bay, OR to Harris Beach State Park (109 miles)

 

 

 

A Minimalist Goes Mobile: What I Pack for an Endless Bike Tour

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He approached me with an & jubilance unmatched by any cyclist I’ve met so far. He was tall & thin, much thinner than his oversized waterproof outfit implied. When he started talking, I could feel my eyes get squinty and my head cocking to the side. He had an accent, but I couldn’t quite place it. This made it difficult for me to understand him, but I listened intently as if I was to decode his words and solve some sort of pressing mystery.

He was excited to see me, but I wasn’t sure why. I was somewhat excited to see him too, I guess. Everyone else I meet on the road is on some sort of cycling team, be it friends or lovers, and it can be a bit difficult to wiggle your way into their social familiarity.

The lone wolves among us can go for days, even weeks, without actually connecting with anyone. I was approaching my solitude threshold, but still had a few days left in me. I could, however, understand where he was coming from, the fast talking, the excitement, the immediate feeling of fatedness, this man has been alone in the woods for while.

..and he was French! That’s it! French! “Je peux parler un peu de Francais!” I manage. He squealed in excitement.

“You speak French!” his eyes got all wide, and he started to look at me like I was dropped from another planet. “Oh! That is very very good! Many here do not know what I say.”

I nod. I can see why. Lucky for him, I have a fascination with languages, a background in French, and all the time in the world. We continue our conversation in a mostly English sometimes French and a dash of pictionary/charades. We manage to get out the basics of our travels.

  1. Where are you coming from? France. No Canada. No Mexico.
  2. Where are you going? Je ne sais pas. (I don’t know.)
  3. How long have you been biking? Four days, but before that I walked from Mexico. (This was a point of confusion because with a French accent work & walk sound alarmingly similary)
  4. How many miles do you go in a day? When I walk, I go 30-45 miles. I cycle about 80 miles per day.
  5. Are you an illegal immigrant? Haha, how do you say…? Not yet.

The fascinating part about this man was not that he was French or that he walked from Mexico to San Francisco or that he nearly cried with joy after meeting me, but that this man owned almost nothing.

“Would you like to guess how much my pants weigh?” he asks. I look at him confused. “Do you understand grams?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Point zero zero one grams! That is like nothing! Would you like to touch?”

I reach out and feel the fabric between my fingers. Its some sort of ultra light weight waterproof material.

“They are pants for kayak! They were big & wide and went very very high.” He motioned to midway on his chest. “I took needle to them, and when I was done…how is it?… to needle? When I was done with it, many many ask where I buy my pants, but I say ‘I do not know. I needled them.’”

He was so proud, every gram accounted for, “People sometimes look at me strange for my bicycling outfit, but it is very good, weighs very little.”

It carried on like this for a while. He had only two small panniers, and I was to learn that one only contained food.

I’d ask questions, and he’d answer with either the weight of the item he owned or the way in which he lived without it.

  1. So no clothes? I have my bicycling outfit and my hiking outfit. All very light.
  2. Tent? I have one tarp with rope. Its less than a kilo.
  3. How do you sleep? Sleeping bag? A mat? I have a mat. Very light. No sleeping bag, I wear all my clothes at night. If it is very cold, I just keep walking until I am so tired that I must sleep. It works for me.
  4. Do you have a stove? How do you cook food? I eat food that does not need to cook. For 40 days now I have had dry mashed potatoes with olive oil & tuna. It is very good. I like it very much.
  5. Do you have anything to entertain yourself? Music? Book? I have not. Just my thoughts, it can get hard, yes. It’s true.

I was in awe. This is what happens when a mega-hiker turns to biking, a sleek, fast, ultra-light minimalist on the move. Anything he didn’t have, he just forced himself not to need. Suddenly, my two-pannier + backpack combo was just another clunky overloaded bicycle.

We stayed together until nightfall. He knocked on my tent in the middle of the night to tell me that he really liked me, and wanted to get to know me better. I told him that that was very nice, but he scared the shit out of me.

He apologized and told me that he really liked what I was doing, and that I should never give up. I thanked him and wished him a good night.

He was gone by the time I woke up.

Enough About Him, Let’s Talk About Me

As you can imagine, I have a close inventory on nearly everything I own by now. I’ve got this camping thing down to a science. Each bag contains it category of supplies, and can be easily transformed into a tiny wilderness sanctuary at a moments notice.

In the backpack, the most accesible bag once I stop moving, is my tent & sleeping bag. The tent is set-up first, followed my the rolled up sleeping mat that sits independently below my bike seat. From there, I unpack my sleeping bag, and put the backpack & panniers on the far side of the tent away from the door. Shoes and anything wet goes at the bottom of the tent and my most immediate needs including, my fanny pack, snacks, prized electronics and my book go near the door by my head. If anything is out of place it can take me an incalculable amount of time to try and find it. However, at this point the location of each item is so carefully mapped the instances are few and far between.

So what exactly does someone, such as yourself, bring on a endless bike trip?

Good question, and lucky for you, one day, a few weeks back, my camp soap spilled over my entire bag, and I was forced to take it all out and wash & reorganize it. It did not, however, force me to categorize, photograph and inventory it, that was my own neuroses at work.

Clothing for all weathers and occasions (38 items)

1 pair of jeans

1 pair of black jeggings

1 pair of gray yoga capris

2 pairs of bike shorts

1 pair of short shorts

1 blue gray T-shirt

2 long tank tops/ short dresses

1 long shirt/ short dress

1 polyester dress

1 partially see-through thermal nonsense

1 2005 RAGBRAI bike jersey

1 gray hoodie tank top zip-up thing

8 pairs of underwear

3 bras (including one nude strapless bra)

7 pairs of socks: many thanks to Sock Dreams. 3 pairs of black bamboo ankle sock, 3 pairs of thigh high wool socks, 1 pair of mid range alpaca wool socks) To see an ultra detailed account of why all these socks are perfect for all my purposes click it.

2 lightweight waterproof jackets

1 windproof bike jacket

1 black sweater

1 rainbow neon one piece swimsuit

3 tank top/undershirts

1 pair of Converse tennis shoes

1 pair of Teva sandals

All of these items, at least all of the clean ones, are scrunched together into this amazing waterproofer compression sack (1 item) which magically becomes my pillow at the end of each night. which is a perfect segue into detailing my sleeping accouterment.

How I lay me down to sleep (4 items)

1 tent (Flight Series)

1 sleeping bag (Cat’s Meow 20* F)

1 sleeping mat — the long kind. I could have gone shorter, but it was an accident and a long story.

1 bottle of Melatonin – I’ve never been one for pills, but these were a gift and have definitely come in handy.

Health & Hygiene aka. Feed Me I’m Dirty (29 items

1 2 toothbrushes + tube o’ toothpaste

1 hairbrush

1 very large camp towel

1 bottle of camp soap

1 tiny conditioner

1 tiny sunscreen

1 tiny lotion

1 deodorant

1 razor

3 four chapsticks

2 things of floss

1 JetBoil Camp stove

1 extra fuel canister

1 sponge

1 spoon

1 wine opener/knife thing

1 aluminum pan/plate

1 pair of nail clippers

First Aid Kit: waterproof bag, bandaids, gauze, various medicines (allergy, tummy, headache, cold & flu), disinfectant, etc.

2 water bottles – though only one should count because one is a 1L Pelligrino bottle that I am refilling

Most of these things live in the panniers with my food stuffs and clothing. Clothing & hygiene on one side and food & misc. on the other. This system seems to be working out quite well for me. Which brings me to another category of items that most cyclists won’t have nearly as much of: The Digital

What?! It’s 2012. Get with the Program! (17 items)

iPad

Keyboard + charger

iPhone + charger

Tiny secret camera for undercover work + charger

Waterproof mount for tiny secret camera

Pin mount for tiny secret camera

2 converter plug things for Apple products

Headlamp

Safety Light/ Flashlight/ Rape Whistle/ Party Machine — I am sad to report that this item broke and was left at the last park in Oregon

Mini SD to larger SD storage converter thing

2 varying sized storage cards

Solar Panel that can charge anything I have

Disposable Camera — I gave this to Mono Rides to take pictures on his cross-country bike fundraiser

Earbuds

It might strike you as odd that I haven’t actually mentioned anything bike related for this bike journey, fear not. Most bike related things reside in a small triangular pack on my bike (1 item), and I have tools for any bike related problem that I actually know how to fix.

The Bike & Bike Related Gear (10 items)

1981 Fuji America Touring Bike

Back Rack

Kryptonite rope lock

U-Lock

Bike Pump

Patches

2 sets of tire levels

Extra Tube

Bike specific Multitool

So that’s how I get around, and make sure that I keep gettin’ around. Which leaves use with the final photo of my crap. This was stuff that didn’t easily fit in a category.

All that Other Stuff that Somehow Made it Into My Bags (19 items)

2 books – Hyperspace by Michio Kaku & To Hellholes and Back by Chuck Thompson

4 Lighters – yeah, I dunno. That’s how many I found when I moved out

Map of Oregon’s Coastal Bike route which has been replaced by a Northern California map

1 large notebook + 1 tiny notebook

Checkbook

Pepper Spray

Adjustable Belt

Rope chunk

2 bungees to attach my backpack to my bike rack

Metal card case + various cards

Passport

Batteries

OK, I lied. There are two more categories that have not been photographed, but I definitely have.

Absolute Esstentials (7 items)

  • Neon yellow fanny pack
  • Helmet
  • Sunglasses
  • 2 panniers
  • Lightweight Backpack (frameless daypack)
  • Knife

Stuff Given to me Last Week by Mono Rides (6 items)

  • 2 Quicky dry shammies, like those kind swimmers use
  • 2 safety sticks
  • A set of brakes
  • extra patch kit
  • Lots o’ food

That’s it. That’s the lot of it. If you’re counting, like I am, that’s 135 items not including food.

However, if you’re counting like other minimalists on the internet are, underwear counts as one item (down to 125 items), socks count as one item (119 items), same with my first aid kit, lighters, bungies, shammies, floss, safety sticks & panniers (107 items), and I don’t need to count a recyclable bottle, I mean, com’n! (106 items). I can accept that number. That’s where I’ll settle. I guess I have to finish reading one of my books…

The Packing Saga….

  1. Yard Sale & Moving Out (Adventures in Minimalism)
  2. Moving into a Smaller Space (Sweating tthe Small Stuff)
  3. Downsizing: Round III (Adventures in Minimalism)
  4. Indecision Paralysis (Obsessively Compulsive Dilemmma)
  5. The Final Countdown (Hurry Up & Panic)

 

 

Biking the Pacific Coast Trail: Pacific City to Coos Bay, Oregon

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Pacific City, OR to Beverly Beach State Park (approx. 40.2 miles)

As we know, I started my bike tour from Portland, Oregon by joining up with the annual fundraiser for the American Lung Association, Reach the Beach. This landed me in Pacific City nestled on the Central Coast of the Oregon Coast.

At this point, I was supported by my special friend and his 1983 Blue Mercedes station wagon. We spent several days together in the small towns just south of Pacific City.

We saw whales in Depoe Bay and Whale Cove and spent a night in a beautiful little town off Hwy 101 called Nesokwin.

My plan was to ease into this whole self supported bike touring thing by slowing adding challenges to my trip (i.e. bags & lonliness). To be honest, I was quite scared, terrified even. The trucks & RVs were giant, the hills were daunting, and I hadn’t yet put in a lick of training in this year. Really, I was not quite sure if this was actually something I was ready to do.

I had never done anything quite like this before, and it was very helpful to have one of my favorite people with me as I started on my way. We spent our last night together in Beverly Beach State Park.

It was quite an experience.

You see, I’m relatively new to the whole State Park scene. I was never one to rent a yurt or even go car camping– though I do enjoy it much. I tend to explore random roads on the map and hike to a pretty place to sleep for a night or two. Its a whole different thing to be camping with so many amenities. Bathrooms? Electricity? Hot showers?!? Yes. Please.

The downside, however, to this sort of camping is that you’re real close to a lot o’ people. This ain’t your grand pappy’s camping expereince, well actually, it is, except this time around your grand pappy has an RV named Road Warrior and is collecting cat figurines and plants on the front dashboard.

I’d consider this more like renting your own small park. Lots of people have motorhomes and are living there for the long haul. There are folks with satellite dishes and full kitchens, just living their normal daily life in the majestic shadow of one of Oregon’s many beautiful State Parks. I can definitely see the appeal of this kind of living.

Just a short walk from the campground is a beautiful bridge near the beach and this ancient stump.

Beverly Beach State Park to South Beach State Park (10.4 miles)

I know what you’re thinking 10.4 miles? Amy, com’n you can do better than that, and to you I say, Yes, I’m sure I could have gone further, but I don’t have a pressing schedule, I’m still training, and this was my first day hauling my full load. Not exactly the easiest thing…

Oh yeah, and I found this amazing bike shop! Newport Bike Shop has a lounge for distance cyclists. They have showers, laundry, w-fi, and coffee for anyone touring through town. The manager there said that they have had people actually break down and cry when they realized what this seemingly normal bike shop had in their loft. Its so great to see a business supporting bicycle tourism with such fervor. I was able to relax, charge up and check up on the internet. It was quite a treat.

Newport is also a quaint little town that was definitely worth the pedal. I wouldn’t mind spending more time there next time around, whenever that is. To get to South Beach State Park I had to cross over this crazy bridge that was under construction. Yikes!

 

Once I got there, I set up my camp again and took the guided mile hike to the ocean. The hiker/biker site was nice, with a few raised platforms for your tent and a covered area with a picnic table. They even had coffee in the welcome center in the morning. So nice.

It was a busy day at the park with a field trip of dozens of 10 year olds from a Portland elementrary school. As I settled in for the night they were singing “Country Road, Take Me Home.” How effing adorable.

South Beach State Park to Beachside State Park (16.3 miles)

I woke up with a wicked hunger. I ate everything that I had on me, and then started on my way. Before could get to Waldport, I had the hunger once again. This little diner in Seal Rock, which as far I as I can tell is barely a town, was there to save the day.

Waldport, the next town down the road, would have been a great place for a cyclist to spend some time. There was laundry, wi-fi and burritos for the getting. I, however, was on a mission to see a friend of mine that has been living in Colorado for quite some time now. She was to meeet me at a park just down the way.

The roads weren’t perfect and I still needed too conquer my fear of big trucks to gain my highway legs. After I overcame several cases of the wobbles I was able to meet up with my ol’ pal by mid afternoon.

We had a long lunch at Luna Sea Fish House in Yachats, OR and finally settled in at Beachside State Park.

The hiker/biker camp felt like a little fairy land, and there was a quick little path to the beach from the campsite. Other sites had amazing view right from their “back yard.” I guess the namesake really says it all.

Beachside State Park to Jessie M Honeyman (34.1 miles)

This was an absolutely gorgeous leg of this trip winding through the Suislaw National Forest. It seems that as a rule, the more beautiful the scenery the scarier the road is to bike on. This is when one of those giant RVs rounding a bend on a cliff can really send shivers down your spine. I was a bit wobbly in the wind on this day as well, but the views were worth it.

I stopped for lunch South of Yachats, OR…

…and was able to hit Jessie M Honeyman within a couple hours. It was a nice park with several areas to explore and a huge lake. I would have enjoyed it had I not fallen asleep as soon as I was all set up. The hiker/biker area was on a path up a hill far from the bathrooms, but whatever, that’s cool. I’m sleeping.

Jessie M Honeyman State Park to Umpqua Lighthouse State Park (24.7 miles)

I had to bike up and over a bunch of challenging hills on my way to my next landmark. I was to meet a group of my close friends at this particular State Park for a Memorial weekend dune-filled campout extravaganz! I had never seen dune buggy culture and it was something to behold! On my way down I saw all sorts of places to rent ATVs, sand boards and the like. These folks really knew how to have fun on the sand.

Most of the roads had nice shoulders and there were plenty of places to stop off and soak it all in.

Though to be warned, the people of the dunes don’t seem to be too keen on bike tourists, and often their giant loaded trucks didn’t give me enough room when they passed. Cursed!

I beat my friends to the Umpqua Lighthouse State Park, which was just fine because I smelled like absolute death and needed to get a shower in before people from the real world saw me. Unfortunately, however, the hot showers that the park boasted weren’t exactly hot, though they were showers. I was able to get an unsatisfying shower in before they showed up.

As for the park, it was well kept and beautiful with a perfectly pristine lake just moments away. A surprisingly not that popular but extremely satisfying activity was to take the short walk around the little lake exploring the little paths that jut off closer to the water. It seems that most of the people were not around the lake, but just below the bluff that the lighthouse was on. And what exactly, you may be wondering, was down there that attracted hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of “campers”? Well, it was a free for all dune fantasy land, complete with RVs, ATVs, satellite TVs and the like.

We took a stroll down to the beach only to find it infested with the fuming dune people. Now, I don’t mean to sound rude, but the dune people we’re not exactly the easiest subculture to wrap your head around. They had inhabited this beautiful coastal property with the most unnatural of sporting hobbies and camping styles. These weren’t exactly the “leave no trace” kind of people.

As my party migrated away from Duneville and off the government land we were trespassing on, we told tales of the ancient dune people, the ancestors of the current dune people, that strapped sand toboggans to the backs of elks and raced them around in circles. The duner with the loudest elk was the alpha dunesman and the races determined rank from there. I’m sure there will be a children’s book with this premise within year’s end.

I later learned that no local in the area would be caught anywhere near Duneville over Memorial Day weekend. If I had known dune people existed before this weekend, I would have guessed as much. Duly noted.

Since most of our beach was monopolized by dune buggies and motorbikes, we decided to take a short drive to a place where we could more readily access a beach. Google maps led us to Country Highway 247, which is much more country than it is highway. This led us through a forest to the Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area where there were less duners and more dunes. It was gorgeous!

Umpqua Lighthouse State Park to North Bend/Coos Bay, OR (21.4 miles)

My short ride this day started with a giant uphill (out of Umpqua Lighthouse State Park) and a flat tire. Hrumpf.

The flat tire was followed a broken valve…

…which was followed by success.

I made it to Coos Bay, OR (OK. OK. North Bend, OR) Where I stopped in at one of my good friend’s parents house. They spoiled me rotten there. Her dad had caught fish that morning off the shore of Charleston (photo above), and her mother, a gourmet baker, cooked it up with some wild rice and asparugus. I was able to get in a hot shower and a load of laundry done. Allelujiah!

Now, not everyone is going to get such supreme treatment on their bike tour down the Oregon Coast. I was lucky enough to be visited and suppported by friends nearly the entire way thus far. However, I still feel victorious for having made it this far, and I feel even better that I have absolutely nothing to complain about and I’m feeling just fine.

Currently, I’m in Bandon, OR letting a big breakfast settle in my stomach and enjoying their internet. The next installment of Biking the Pacific Coast Trail will include the parks and beauty of the Coos Bay area all the way down to wherever I end up come week’s end.

Thank you to everyone that has helped me get this far, and I want you all to rest assured that I’m well fed, well rested and feeling great! Redwoods National Park, here I come!

(to be continued…)

 

The Plan: Bike Touring from Portland, OR to Redwoods National Park

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There are thousands of miles of cycling routes crisscrossing the United States. They have been vetted and tested by hundreds of distance cyclists and published in detail by the Adventure Cycling Association. When I feel my wanderlust take over, I click on the map of their route overview (below) to investigate the possibilities. I find myself running my finger along proposed routes on the screen, referencing Google Maps, checking up on parks along the way, and imagining whether or not my body can live up to the challenge. 

Lately, however, I’ve been scrutinizing the routes with an eye on my very real upcoming challenge. Maybe by now, you’ve clicked on the photo above, and started to look over the routes as well. Perhaps, your eyes are getting a bit wide and your mouth is hanging slightly open. Don’t worry about it. I have seen that face before. I would like to assure you that I am fully confident in my ability to bike unreasonable distances under unreasonable conditions.

I am not, however, confident that I will not complain or need help.

And no, I haven’t necessarily been training. I ride my bike every day, and I do not have room to make excuses as to why I can’t bike. If I want to get there, I need to bike there. This is a regular reality for me.

Also, to add to my bike touring resume, my family’s annual vacation is RAGBRAI ,where we bike together across the state of Iowa. I don’t train for that either…

Riding My Bike from Portland, OR to Arcata, CA : As I Understand It

Saturday, May 19th: Portland, OR – Lincoln City, OR (100 miles)
I have signed up, once again, to the participate in Reach the Beach, a fundraiser for the American Lung Association. This is means that I will need to raise an additional $125 over the registration fee. Please, please please, if you are able, donate to my campaign for Reach the Beach and help me kick off my adventure! and save lungs and such…

Monday, May 21st: Lincoln City – Beachside State Park, Waldport, OR (43.9 miles)
I’ve been using the Oregon Coast Bike Route to choose the places that I think it would be best for me to stop. I’m kinda into showers, and to be honest, that’s why I choose the places that I do. I like showers. I can’t help it. When I was in Guatemala, there was a point where I waited two weeks to shower, because I couldn’t find one that was heated. I can do without a lot of things, but a warm shower is not one of them.

This particular leg of the route passes through Newport, OR which would be a great spot to have lunch with me if you are so inclined. No pressure.

Wednesday, May 23rd:  Waldport, OR – William M. Tugman State Park, Lakeside, OR (61.3 miles)
OK, just to be clear, all of these stops and dates are general approximations. Who knows if I will want to make it all the way to this park or if I will just blow right by it? However, this particular place was described as a “hidden gem” with showers, electricity & hiker/bike sites. It is also located neat Eel lake which is good for swimming canoeing & fishing. Sounds good to me.

Friday, May 25th: Lakeside, OR – Sunset Bay State, Park, Coos Bay,OR (27.0 miles)
I can’t imagine myself not spending time in the North Bend/Coos Bay area. Considering my affection for small towns and ocean air, I wouldn’t want to just speed by these places. Sunset Bay State Park, is the Southern most park in the area, and it just sounds like it would be the prettiest. Again there are yurts, electricity and showers for sweaty ol’ me. Please come visit.

Sunday, May 27th: Coos Bay, OR – Humbug Mountain State Park, Curry, OR (58.0 miles)
Humbug Mountain State Park gives me the opportunity to try and climb a mountain! It is often recommended for long distance bikers to go on hikes to counter all the work the biking muscles are dong. Please make sure I remember this. By this time on the journey, the descriptions of parks are more likely to include references to wind surfing & scuba diving than clamming & fishing. California, here I come!

Tuesday, May 29th: Curry, OR – Harris Beach State Park, Brookings, OR (49.3 miles)
A National Wildlife Sanctuary! Goat Island! Sea lions! Yes, please! Harris Beach State Park is the last stop on the Oregon Cycling Route with hot showers so, of course, I will need to stop or just push my way to Crescent City, CA, which is definitely a possibility. It all depends on my friends in Oregon and how much they miss me. Wink. Wink.

Wednesday, May 30th: Brookings, OR – Del Norte Coast Redwoods State Park, Del Norte, CA (36.9 miles)
Once we cross the border into California, it gets bit harder to find the best routes and stops for bikes without purchasing a book or some maps from the Adventure Cycling Association (which I will most likely do). However, the Northern Edge of the Redwoods National Park is withing my reach!

**At this point, I hope to visit & camp with some friends in ASHLAND, OR and/or the NORTHERN REDWOODS NATIONAL PARK**

1987: My Dad & I on my first & only trip to the Redwoods

Monday, June 11th: Del Norte, CA – Arcata, CA (68.1 miles)
While I’m not exactly sure where would be the best place for me to stay in this area, I’m excited to visit this part of Northern California. In my eight years (give or take) living in Oregon, I have still never been to Northern California. This puts me smack dab in the middle of the infamous Redwoods National Park! If anyone has been there, I would be interested in hearing a bit more about biking & camping & eating in the area.

**VOLUNTEER PROJECT (approx. 6/11-6/24): I have e-mailed the volunteer coordinator for the Redwoods National and State Parks. I hope to spend about two weeks there volunteering, writing and exploring. I am still waiting to hear back to from her to see if they will take me. Oh man, I sure hope so!

COUNTDOWN:  34 days!

So You Wanna…
… Donate to my Reach the Beach Campagin? (Please. Please. Please.)
… Visit me along the way? Just e-mail me or comment below or talk to me. NBD.
… Volunteer in California’s National Parks?