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.
