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Day 2 – Gervais to Monmouth, OR
A lovely trike with flowers at Graham and Peggy's house - note the apple tree in the background!
This was supposed to be a rainy day, which was going to be quite miserable for riding bicycles. I awoke to the sound of rain outside our window, but the sun hadn’t risen yet so I fell back asleep, thinking about what a wet start we were going to have. When Dallas and I finally did wake up for real, the rain had stopped and blue skies were visible behind the dissipating clouds. The weather forecast had gone from 80% to 0% chance of rain overnight. Dallas and I are seriously the luckiest people ever.
Troy's bike shop in Salem
We got back on the road about an hour earlier than we had started the day before, hopeful to make it about 60 miles. Twenty miles and almost 2 hours later, we were in Salem. We stopped at the bike shop owned by Troy, Graham and Peggy’s son – and we arrived just as the sky darkened and started to spit rain at us. Troy wasn’t there, but the other employees were friendly and said we could leave our bikes inside while we went to get lunch. By the time we had finished eating, the sky was blue again and the sun was shining.
Rainbow!
Our next stop came just 13-14 miles later. Exhausted from the headwind and rolling hills, we took a short detour into the town of Independence to pick up some food at the market. Just a block before the market, we passed a cafe advertising pies and ice-cream. This was just what we needed. The man working there came outside and watched as we were locking our bikes together as if we were crazy. “Nobody ever steals in Independence. They’d get shot. The cops here are good, and everyone knows each other. No one steals.” Still, we weren’t going to risk losing our new bikes! No sooner than stepping inside, the sky opened up for the third time that day and poured rain onto our bikes. The man, who called himself Dutch, asked how he could make our perfect day any better. He explained that the kitchen had closed two hours ago, yet their Open sign was still on and there were three people sitting at a table drinking coffee. He then ignored all of our attempts to say we just wanted dessert while he went on listing the sandwiches and quiches and salads that he could still make for us (it seemed that the only thing out of the question was the soup, which was apparently delicious). Once we could finally get a word in, we managed to order lattes and pie (ice-cream came with the pie at no extra charge!). As we were finishing up our pie, Dutch came over to our table and told the story of the historical town of Independence, which is the end of the Oregon Trail. Then, he seamlessly interluded into a discussion on natural disasters and how the whole west coast from Crescent City to Vancouver is going to be destroyed by earthquakes, volcanoes and tsunamis. Independence is the epicenter of the fault subduction zone, but Dutch isn’t concerned. He’s prepared.
It was after 4pm when we finally said goodbye to Dutch and left his 2EZ Cafe. The sun was shining again, but daylight time was limited. Until just before Independence, we had been following the Willamette Valley Scenic Bikeway, but we decided to take a different route from here and try to cut 7 miles out of the trip. This brings us down the opposite side of the Willamette River and through more farmland. The scenery has been good so far, and the hills and headwinds haven’t been any worse than they were before we deviated from the bikeway. Amongst all the farms and private property, we lucked out again today and found a small spot of state park land with a trailhead. There was a no camping sign, and there was a bar across the entrance to the parking lot, but we were able to slide in with our bikes and find the perfect spot to pitch our tent just as the sun set.
Day 1 – Back in the Saddle Again
Despite two days of false hopes, we were finally, definitely ready to leave on Sunday morning, which happens to be exactly two years to the day that Dallas had initially left Portland before ending up in New Orleans. Still, it was almost noon when we finally rolled away from the house we were staying at in Portland. My loaded bike seemed incredibly heavy, and my legs felt sensitive to even the slightest incline. We were both out of practice after not having toured in so long, so it took a few miles to gain our balance and momentum. That momentum was killed as we followed fallen lifesavers and other pieces of crushed candy up the steep hill to Dallas’s mom’s house in Oregon City.
Riding the Champoeg bike path
After a brief stop in Oregon City, Dallas and I continued to Champoeg (pronounced ‘Shampooey’) State Park – the start of the Willamette Valley Scenic Bikeway, which would take us south to Eugene. At the park, while we shared an apple with almond butter, a park ranger approached and asked if we were camping there. We still had about two hours of daylight, so he pointed us in the direction towards the next campground, about 20 miles down the scenic bikeway.
It seemed like a lot of people were burning things outside today, and the wind kept blowing smoke to our senses before we could see the source of all the fires. We rode through miles of farmland rich with fall crops like apple and hazelnut trees, corn, and pumpkins. We still had just under ten miles to go when the sun touched the horizon.
As we pulled over to put our lights on, a truck pulled over to ask us about our bike tour. Back on the road, just a short distance beyond this and around a corner, the truck was pulled over again. A guy got out as we approached and offered us his parent’s apartment behind their house for us to spend the night. It was half as far away as the campground and included a bed and shower. We eagerly accepted the offer, and they gave us directions to their home.
This is MUCH more luxurious than our tent - thanks, Peggy and Graham!
Graham and Peggy were waiting for us when we pulled up to the garage, where their beautiful apartment is attached. They showed us around and told us to eat or drink whatever we found in the fridge. We are so grateful for such generous people who open their homes up to us, and we both hope to return the favor some day.
Distance covered today was just under 50 miles (not bad for starting at noon).
New (used) bikes for our next adventure
Back in Portland, Dallas and I spent a few days recovering from our travels from Alaska. We needed to get moving though, before the weather turned cold and rainy. It was apparently already too late to miss the rain, so after 2 rest days, we started to get serious about our next move. Dallas purchased an almost new Kona Honkytonk from our friend Alyssa, and I found an excellent deal on a GT Wheels 4 Life Peace tour bike on Craigslist. The former owner of my new steed had just finished riding across the US with it – you can see her blog here: www.missionusa2013.blogspot.com
On Friday, Dallas caught up with family in Oregon City while I ran with our friend Kelly in Forest Park. I spent that weekend testing my bike out on some of John Benenate’s team rides. It’s heavy compared to everyone’s road bikes, but it will definitely get me out of Portland. After spending Saturday and Sunday cycling in the rain, Dallas joined me for Tuesday and Wednesday evening group runs organized by other Skora ambassadors. There’s definitely enough resources to stay active all week in Portland.
My plan was to wait for a few sunny days in a row (which could be weeks here), and get as far south as possible before the rain hits again. We got lucky on Thursday afternoon when the sun came out (and we got to see our friend Kristina, from Sockeye, who had just arrived in Portland the night before).
Hoping to leave Friday, we hurried to get everything we needed together for another long bike tour. Halfway through the day, we decided we wouldn’t be ready and would leave on Saturday instead. Saturday morning came, and we still had a few last minute things to pack and adjust. By Saturday afternoon, we were still not quite ready. Hopefully we haven’t wasted our only two sunny days in Portland. We definitely plan on biking out Sunday morning!
The plan is to head south as far as Eugene together. Then, I may cut west to the coast and ride down the Pacific Coast Highway. Dallas is planning to continue towards Crater Lake (hopefully the National Park will be open again by the time he gets there) and south to visit his dad in Ashland before meeting up with me again in San Francisco. The goal is to get to San Francisco by October 19th. Keep checking back for more frequent updates along the way!
Missing: Two Touring Bicycles
I write this post with both sadness and hopefulness.
On our last day in New Orleans last year (in May of 2012) we celebrated by going out to a bar. Our bikes were just outside and a few doors down. When I went to check on them, I noticed someone standing over them. As I approached him, I realized the man was attempting to steal our bikes by twisting a broom handle that he had stuck in between the cable lock and the bike frames. I confronted the man, who looked both drunk and homeless.
“What are you doing with our bikes?”
“These bikes? These aren’t your bikes.” He lied.
“Ummm…yes. That’s my bike, and that’s my helmet!” I retorted, pointing at the helmet that he was wearing backwards on his grimy head of long, tangled grey hair.
He finally decided against messing with me any further and stumbled away.
Having my bike stolen was one of my biggest fears about living in New Orleans. We made it until our last night without incidence, and I was lucky enough to divert the one feeble attempt that was made to take our bikes from us. Unfortunately, it was in Portland that our bicycles were successfully stolen. Unless of course, our bikes had overheard Dallas considering buying a new bike and decided to run away together before I got the same idea. I can only hope they are together and being treated respectfully, wherever they are, and that they are not too afraid.
Opus Largo with green frame, brown handlebar tape and saddle and army green handlebar bags, and BianchiVolpe with black frame, Terry Liberty saddle and white handlebar tape – both bikes have steel frames and spd pedals.
We were on our way back home from visiting Dallas’s mom in Oregon City, and stopped at REI. Our bikes were locked up together on the bike rack outside of REI, and we left them alone for maybe an hour, while we browsed the store and ate a quick meal next door. Walking back to the bike rack, I did not see any wheels sticking out. That’s when my heart sank in my chest, and we saw the cleanly cut lock on the ground by the rack. Fortunately, Portland does have good public transportation, and we were able to get home within 40 minutes and only one connection from the MAX to a bus. But I felt a bit of shamefulness having to walk to the MAX in our bike shoes, helmet in hand, with no bikes. I started thinking of all the things that I could have done differently to prevent our bikes from being stolen, and I felt as if it were my fault. We shouldn’t have stopped at REI. We should have taken the ride that Dallas’s step-father had offered us back home. We should have locked our bikes somewhere else, or gone back to check on them between shopping and eating. But in reality, there’s no way I could have known, and of course it’s too late to change what has happened.
Dallas and I are looking on craigslist, ebay, pawn shops and bike shops in hopes of recovering our lost bicycles. But in the end, we cannot complete our goals without bikes, and we may just have to break down and get new ones. This gives us an opportunity for something good to come out of it, and perhaps we can strike up a partnership with a bicycle company that would be interested in sponsoring us. We are totally open to ideas. In our current circumstance, we will probably end up riding whatever we can find on a budget.
Nomadic Cycling 