Days 92, 93, 94 - 9/7/16 - 9/9/16 Portland, OR - Daze Off

It's still Friday morning.  I made it to the dispensary in time for 'Nug Brunch' which means I get 10% off my entire purchase because I made it in before noon.  This whole procedure will take some getting used to; it's nit awkward or sketchy at all, in fact, it's the complete opposite which is what makes it weird.  Smiling faces greet you along with the overwhelming aroma of dozens of strains of bud.  The sign for $25 1/8's drew me in and the girl behind the counter proceded to open all the glass jars and stick them under my nose and let me touch all the nugs I wanted.  

But I'm not picky, I got my 1/8 of Mob Boss and a bag of sour gummies and carried on with my morning as if I just bought groceries.  Getting high has not been my top priority during these few days in the streets of Portland, getting fed has been a much higher priority.  I wonder how long it would take to try every restaurant, every food cart and truck in this well-fed city.  The options are overwhelming but, I've found it's hard to have a bad meal here.  

I've been staying with my friend, Ben in the Southeast quadrant of the city.  I leave the house with him at 8:30 in the morning, he goes to work making books and I wander around on my bike for the next 10 hours.  Yesteday, I rode to Washington Park on the West side of the city, a beautiful expanse of green, tall, thick ancient trees and loosely manicured shrubs and flowers create a sort of sanctuary from the concrete to the East. 

 I found myself laying on a picnic table staring up through the leaves that created a frame around the blue sky, a perfect porthole to watch the clouds pass.  6 months ago, this sort of activity might've been boring after 10 minutes but now, I feel like I have all the time in the world to enjoy the little things like this.  I feel like a dog off the leash just smelling smells, eating scraps and looking for all the quiet places I can lay down and enjoy all the wonderful things that get mistaken for nothingness all too often.  

I met up with Hudson who I met in Idaho during the ride through Lolo Pass.  He's lived all over the place including Portland so he led me around on a beautiful September day to a shanty town of food trucks, to Mt. Tabor which held faraway views of the city in the long branches of the massive trees that dotted the hill.  And we talked and talked of the unique experience that is bike touring and the differences between the East and the West.  He boiled the difference down to the East being more sincere and the West being friendlier.  

They both have their pros and cons but we agreed the friendliness of the West really greases the gears of society.  I like talking about my day and my feelings with strangers that are only pouring my coffee or waiting at the same red light as me even if they don't remember what I said or what I look like 5 minutes later.  It's just nice to hear happy people and happy conversations.  There's certainly a difference between here and home and it's not just the 3,000 miles that separate the two.  

I feel comfortable here, like people are less judgemental.  They always say, "keep Portland weird," so maybe that has something to do with peoples' attitudes.  I don't think twice about who sees me doing yoga in the park or if I feel like lying down to rest my eyes on a picnic table or to just sit on the sidewalk and feel the warmth of the sun among the other homeless folks that set their tarps and tents up right there on the sidewalk.  They don't seem to bother people or get in their face over here, not like other cities I've seen.  Someone recently asked me if I could live in Portland; I honestly don't think I could live in any city, I like to escape to quieter places too often to put myself right in the middle of everything.  Cities just want you to spend money anyhow.  

I like good local food and a sense of community and all the wonderful resources available just a short bike ride from anywhere; and the bikes, I love the bikes, I love waiting at a red light with 10 other cyclists just moving their way through everything but, how long could I really live in a city?  I don't think very long.  My feet are getting itchy already and I can't wait to start the tide to the coast tomorrow and pass through the quiet little seaside towns.

Day 90 - 9/5/16 Maryhill State Park, WA to Hood River, OR

Colin and I woke up before the sun to try and stay ahead of the winds but, that's not so easy here in the Columbia River Gorge.  Oh well, at least the scenery is enough to keep you pedaling onward.  I haven't had an early start in a while, mostly because the mornings have been so cold; today felt really good though.  

We had a few hills to climb but, they only lead to breathtaking views of the river and the highway and all the lovely trees and mountains, it all looked so perfect like a miniature model of some utopian land.  

We stopped and talked to a lot of other bikers and even got invited to spend the night on Mac and Cindy's lawn.  Life is good on the road and riding with Colin had just been wonderful,

 

we're both drinking in every ounce of the sweet scenery and letting the universe direct us in one way or another, looking out for those banana peels.

Day 89 - 9/4/16 Paterson to Maryhill State Park, WA

Billy and I didn't get to Paterson Elementary until after 9:00pm, the only place that seemed to have any space for us to pitch our tents.  There was a big garage with a couple school buses parked inside and plenty of room to eat dinner and set up camp inside.  

In the morning on the way out of town, we were hoping to get coffee and pancakes in the one restaurant in town but, I guess it's just closed down for good.  But outside was another cyclist hoping they were open as well.  

It was this dood, Colin who I briefly met in Missoula.  Heading to Portland, Colin joined Billy and me and left town.  Colin tode ahead and Billy dropped back until I lost site of both of them.  Billy had more tire issues and decided hitching to the next town was best for him.  

I caught up to Colin when he got a flat himself.  We rode the rest of the way together, for the most part, Colin's a quick rider.  Some of the hills we got to go over were incredible, brilliant views of the pure blue Columbia River glistening at the bottom of the rustic brown and gold rocks.  

The last mile of the ride was down one Hell of a hill that plummeted back down to river level.  The river engulfed my whole vision in the golden hour of the day, the bridge leading to Oregon looked like a toy model that grew to lifesize as we came around the last downhill bend to the campground.

Day 88 - 9/3/16 Walla Walla to Paterson, WA

We briefly rode into Oregon today along the Columbia River but, we crossed back into Washington and will ride along the river on this side.  We made it about 80 miles today, the last 15 or so taking place at sunset and into the dark.  I've never ridden that late before but it was very peaceful with no wind and no cars and cool air compared to the hot heat that beats down on you in the gorge.  

Billy's been having a lot of tube and tire issues since we started riding together, I hope I'm not some sort of jinx for him.  We're about 3 days from Portland, it looks like we'll be there sometime on Tuesday.  

Til then, we'll be riding along this beautiful river that looks like nothing I've ever seen before.  Every so often I feel like I can smell the ocean and I wonder if it's real or all in my head just because I'm so close now.

Day 85 - 8/31/16 Lowell Campground to Orofino, ID

Last night was the last night all 5 of us would be together.  At Kooskia, the next town, the rest of the gang went South while I stayed North with a couple other cyclists that rolled into the campground after dark.  We had a fire and marvelled at the beautiful day of riding we all experienced; we waded in the river and drank from it and fell asleep beneath the stars that were above the haze of smoke in the sky.  

The temperature was too good this morning; we were all up early without freezing and shivering over our breakfasts.  Rides like yesterday are good to do with other people because you can talk about it afterward and still feel the excitement like when the embers from the campfire are still smoldering in the morning.  

The 7 of us, including Rachel and Brendan who came in late last night, headed for kooskia where our gang would split up.  But not before we all stuffed our faces with eggs and pancakes and some of us with butter in our coffee.  In Kooskia, the Lochsa River splits in 2 directions, the Clearwater River goes North while the South Fork goes in the obvious direction.  

So I took the Clearwater with Rachel and Brendan while Matt, Wally, Dave, and Marion took the South Fork with hopes we'd all see each other again, now knowing the mysterious ways of the road.  Rachel and Brendan needed to make it to Lewiston today in attempts to meet an encroaching deadline; I, on the other hand stopped just after 50 miles here in Orofino, back in civilization, back on my own to hammer out the last weeks of my ride.

Day 84 - 8/30/16 Powell Campground to Lowell Campground, ID

Coffee is back in my life in a wonderful way despite my extreme commitment to kicking caffeine before I left on this trip.  Caffeine actually does an incredible job giving relief to sore leg muscles.  Dammit, I may just be a lifer but, I think I'm okay with that.  There was a lodge at rhe campground so once the 3 of us got packed up, we went on the hunt for that good, hot, black stuff.  

We found it no problem and also learned Dave and Marion were at the same campsite, we just didn't see them last night and they had already woke up and hit the road.  At one point on this trip I would have been an early riser and left with them without a cup of the good stuff but, I must be hanging out with the wrong crowd.  Inside the lodge, Wally was looking for butter to put in his coffee – that dood is Bill Nye and Rambo on 2 wheels – something about the fat getting caffeine to the brain quicker than normal, I don't know but I trust him.  

With no butter around we all got wired up as best we could and hit the road with Matt assuring us that we won't need to pedal today.  His statement was slightly hyperbolic but, no completely off the mark.  We rode along for 70 miles on the gentlest downhill ride of all our lives.  Yes, we all pedaled but, we rolled along with incredible ease at 17 mph for about 4 hours; I couldn't have dreamed a more perfect ride.  

We followed along the Lochsa River the entire way, a neverending chain of 'S' curves revealing wide, beautiful views of the water with layers of mountains above masked in hazy blue-green atmosphere from a distant forest fire that filled the air with aroma.  

Not once did this pattern of curves seem redundant; I nearly convinced myself I had died earlier on and this blissful ride was some sort of manifestation of heaven, like this was my tunnel of white light leading to the next plane, this series of neverending, always changing visions of natural wonder flying into my eyes like a universe being sucked into black holes.  But, at some point, the pattern broke and the 3 of us found Dave and Marion outside of the first restaurant we had seen in 100 miles.  

The 5 of us continued down the magic road another couple of miles to the campground which was right on the lovely Lochsa River.  Assured I was still on Earth, alive and well, I struggled to get on with the daily rituals that don't involve having a bike between my legs.

Day 82 - 8/28/16 Missoula, MT - Day Off

The back door is left wide open all day and is closed but not locked at night, just like all the other doors that lead into this shared space.  A laminated booklet hangs by the door informing any travelers what kinds of facilities are available and where to find them in the house and what kind of behavior is expected.  There's a drum set and a baby grand in the living room among all the bicycles from all the cyclists stopping through.  

A spiral staircase leads to the second floor – I wonder how old this house is or what it looked like before it became this haven for touring cyclists.  Today, in the afternoon I lay on one of the couches in the sun room.  The owner is actually here today but, no one else.  He's nice but not very talkative, a person might feel uncomfortable not chatting it up with their host but, I can tell he wants me to feel at home, not like he's doing me this grand favor; so I kick my feet up and doze off or read or whatever I'm capable of on this lazy Sunday afternoon.  

This morning I took my bike out for coffee, donuts, and errands, playing some jazz loudly from the speaker I carry on my handlebars.  

The sun was shining and the early morning air was nice and cool on my skin and didn't heat up until I got back to the house.  Missoula is a wonderful city, I'm already planning on coming back, maybe even live in this house for a week, who knows.

Day 81 - 8/27/16 Drummond to Missoula, MT

Today has been one of those days where the universe just wants to tell me everything is good, keep doing what you're doing.  At the beginning of this trip I never planned on going through Montana, let alone make it as far North as Missoula but, here I am.  I've heard the name many times from a Jimmy Buffet song and it always rang out in my head a little longer than other cities he sings about.  But still, that's not what brought me here.  

I guess it just became part of the route somehow along the way.  When I got downtown I wanted to find a bookstore which I did.  I had some books in mind but failed to find any of them.  I did buy a book though, one called Ceremony which I was introduced to back in Buffalo, NY.  I had forgotten about it until the title jumped out at me on the shelf.  

The description appealed to me in Buffalo but, since riding through many Indian Reservations and seeing handfuls of these people drinking their lives away and looking for cheap pleasures, the synopsis struck a new chord: "A young American Indian's search for meaning to his life leads him back to his past traditions..."  So I bought it, I'll let you know how it is.  Outside the bookstore was a beautiful girl with a box full of hats and scarves and mittens and she was just sitting there knitting and smiling in the shade.  

She asked if I needed a hat for the Winter and I told her I'm hiding from the snow this year but I ended up buying one for my niece back home.  I asked her where I should get some lunch and she promptly split her salad with me – fresh greens from the farmers market.  After sitting for some time, learning about Sarah's and her fiancée's time biking and hitchhiking from West Virginia and their wedding coming up in 2 weeks, I realized my bike, a Trek 820, red, is parked right next to an identical red 820.  Never seen another bike like mine, sure enough, there's one right next to it.  In the next half hour I learned the place we're sitting outside of has incredibly cheap water bottles, the stainless steel kind that I've been wanting.  

Purchasing a couple I learn the place also sells donuts, exactly what I'd be looking for next.  So I bought a couple and ate them with Sarah and her fiancée, Richie and then some old guy came out of nowhere and started playing the most beautiful rendition of Amazing Grace on a saw.  Everything was blooming in front of me.  But I finally left for the Warm Showers home I'd be staying in.  On the back door is a 10 page packet with all the information on staying here: how to use the washer and dryer, where the shower is, who actually lives here (no one was home) and beyond that, lots of reassurance that anything goes here, just be respectful.  Easy enough.  Mi casa, su casa is what it all boiled down to.

Day 80 - 8/26/16 Deer Lodge to Drummond, MT

Today was a nice ride, nice and easy, just over 35 miles and my legs are feeling good.  Drummond's city park includes a baseball field, playground, and a campground for tents and RVs with water and electric hookups – it's always a nice surprise to come across a park like this where you know no one will bother you throughout the night and you don't have to dig a hole to shit in.  

I ride to Missoula tomorrow and I plan on taking I-90 for nearly half of the 55 mile ride.  I checked with the highway department and they told me it's fine as long as I don't interfere with traffic; I do not plan on interfering with cara moving 70 mph faster than me.  I haven't had to ride on the interstates yet but I don't feel like riding 30 miles on some neglected dirt road, I've been there and did that and fell off a bridge in the process.  

After Missoula the rest of my ride will most likely be on paved roads which is an exciting thought.  I'm really looking forward to upgrading my bicycle, I'm finally beginning to hate riding with a backpack.  To all the people that have questioned my decision to wear this thing on my ride, you were right, it sucks – the extra sweat, the added weight pushing down on my ass, it's just another handle for gravity to grab onto and pull while I'm going uphill.  I am living and learning quite a bit.  

I'm glad today went so smoothly, the last 2 days were rather bleak, having to get a ride and rest for an extra day.  I'm not going to let the pressures of the weather effect this trip anymore, I just gotta take it day by day and if I need a day of rest, I'm gonna take it.

Day 78 - 8/24/16 Whitehall to Deer Lodge, MT

It's somewhat incredible that there can be a discrepancy between what the mind wants and what the body can do.  I suppose with time and dedication anything is possible short of flying.  I recently had this surge of inspiration and excitement to bite off some long rides to make it to the end in the quickest fashion possible.  Well shit, the bite today was 20 miles too big and my mouth was already full and my jaw was tired.  It's been about 3 weeks since my last day off and my shortest ride in that time was 40 something miles.  My left knee has just been getting stiff and unwilling to meet the demands of my inspired mind.  What can you do?  Luckily, I was in an area where Uber was a resource because the hour I spent holding out my thumb yielded no ride.  I took an Uber from Anaconda to Deer Lodge and decided beforehand tomorrow will be a day off.  So I found a hotel, got 2 nights, got some chinese food, 2 tall beers and started to rest, hoping a day off us all the doctor would prescribe.

(Illustration courtesy of Bob Horan)

Day 76 - 8/22/16 West Yellowstone to Ennis, MT

My first impressions of Montana compared to Wyoming are night and day.  I was confronted by a treacherous storm and opposing winds in barren grasslands in Wyoming while I've been warmly embraced by beautiful mountains and lakes with terrific tailwinds giving me that magic roll here in Montana.  

My God, the first 20 miles of today's ride wound me through the most beautiful scenery; around every bend was more mountains and more water.  At one point there were skeletons of old trees still standing in the lake with dozens of black birds perched in their branches like some species that has overtaken an abandoned city.  

I rode the rest of the 40 miles under gray skies, no doubt from a not-so-far-off forest fire; it cast the surrounding mountains in a haze, making them barely visible at times, like they were under a thin sheet of silk.  I rolled effortlessly for miles with the wind on my back.  At one stretch of no-pedaling the road was covered in crickets.  

They all sprung off the ground in wild, unpredictable directions when I rode by.  I could feel them bouncing of my bike and my bare legs.  At one point I looked down to see one on my right shoe, one on my right leg and another on my left like they were hitchhikers looking to be taken away out West like little brown Kerouacs.  It would've been nice if one of them stayed but, I got to Ennis all by myself.  

This is a small little town surrounded by rivers, clearly a fisherman's haven with more tackle shops than anything else in town.  It will be nice to stay in the park, wake up with an actual bathroom nearby and have some electricity.  I just hope no one bothers me here.

Day 75 - 8/21/16 Yellowstone National Park, WY to West Yellowstone, MT

As nice as it is being away from towns for a few days, it's kind of nice to be back in town.  I think I just needed some hot pizza and a cold, sugary drink.  Well I got that, plus some groceries and now it's back to the outskirts of town.  

West Yellowstone is made up of motels, gift shops and restaurants, I guess for all the people about to abandon civilization and head into the park.  I guessed right that this place wouldn't be so friendly to the stealth camper, West Yellowstone just wants to take your money.  So I headed for the rangers station just North of town;

 

a very nice woman, who's also done her fair share of bike touring, knew exactly what I was looking for.  On a big wall map she pointed to a small service road just off the main highway 10 miles North, exactly where I was heading anyway.  The road was just opposite from a beautiful blue lake surrounded by mountains and I found the perfect patch of dirt to set up my tent looking out on the water.  It's amazing what sort of sleeping arrangements you can scrounge up for free.  

So I sat down and watched the sunset, I got everything set up just in time to crawl in my tent once the sun dipped behind the distant mountains and the air got cold.