Day 10 - 10/3/16 - Crescent City, CA - Day Off

I think a dozen people stayed here last night in this church, folks from all over, traveling solo and traveling in pairs, teaming up and joining forces on the road like a snowball gathering mass and momentum resulting in several pairs of wheels and hundreds of pounds of gear rolling down the Pacific Coast.  When I'm by myself and people ask me where I've been and where I'm going, I'm always happy to answer them and chat til their heart's content, I don't ever mind.  But when this many people with this many miles and towns and stories under their belts, the whole spiel of "where'd you come from" and "where are you going" isn't necessary. 

All that matters is the road has brought us all under one roof.  This roof just happens to be over a church under the care of Katie Berkowitz, a kind, hospitable soul who opens her doors to traveling cyclists in exchange for hugs.  Places like this are brilliant for taking a day off, doing some laundry, and making some real meals with the other friends of the road around you.  That's what Martin, Lau, Flo, Will and myself are doing today, relaxing.  Five others packed up and left this morning.  We all slept in different areas of the same open room, the walls lined with piles of panniers, chairs draped with wet clothing and maps unfolded and open on every table. 

We wished them all well, Herbie, Laura, Peter, Dave, and Jackie as they rolled out into the early morning drizzle.  Breakfast happened in stages; oatmeal and coffee, french toast, and juicy, tuscan cantaloupe.  Then the five of us set out to do laundry down the street.  Will rolled a joint on the folding table and we smoked it out front.  Then we all fantasized about another family dinner like we had last night: stir-fried veggies and rice with plenty of garlic bread.  And beer.  Today, we decided on onion soup, pizza, kale chips, and an apple crisp made with apples that grow behind the church.  The sun has yet to come out today but, it has yet to rain more since this morning.  We made it back to home base with fresh, clean clothes and all the ingredients to make too much food again.  Joanna was holding down the fort while we were out; another cyclist traveling with her friend from BC to San Fran.  Like some sort of commune, we took turns teaching each other the yoga moves that we use before and after rides. 

Or maybe it was more like a birthday party for little kids, taking turns choosing the games.  We did stop to play some card games and share snacks.  I'm very grateful to have such good people to share this day off with.  I certainly have not been as productive as I'd like to be on my trip down the coast in terms of writing, reading, drawing and even taking photos but, this portion of my journey seems to be more about the social aspect since it's a major bike route, much more so than my random trail that took me coast to coast.  I'm in good company, I couldn't feel any luckier.

Days 9, 8, 7 - 10/2/16 - En Route to Crescent City, CA

It's hard to believe we'll be crossing into California today.  It's hard to believe it's October.  Despite my feeling of being on an endless Summer, it is very much Fall.  Yesterday Julie, Will and I got blasted by some heavy rain and intense winds after we took a break in Gold Beach, got some groceries and then smoked a joint outside.  Julie and I met Will the night before at Humbug Mountain State Park. 

As we rode downhill through the jetstream, we passed the cold, blue Pacific and the massive rock forms that stretch along the beach like remnants of an asteroid that broke into pieces upon hitting the Earth.  And then the sun came out.  The winds stayed with us and we were dry within minutes.  The day before, Julie and I missed a little bit of rain when we stopped quickly for lunch and coffee.  15 miles after that, Julie realized she lost her other pair of riding shorts off the back of her bike. 

So she hitched back to town.  I wasn't sure if we'd meet back up but miraculously, very shortly after I landed in Humbug Mountain, Julie came rolling into the campsite, just before the sun went down.  She's been experiencing the kindness of strangers that comes with being on the road.  She was able to hitch back to town then out to the campground while finding her shorts. 

Although, I did try to convince her to not be so attached to the shorts but, she felt she needed to go back for them.  I'm sitting with Will, Lau and Flo in a cafe in Harbor, OR.  Will met Lau and Flo at some point and now the four of us are killing time and warming up before our short ride to Crescent City.  We're all staying at the same Warm Showers place in a church.  The sky was rumbling with thunder this morning without much water to follow.  As soon as we hopped on our bikes, the rain came.  It was a wet couple of miles here to this cafe but, the sun is now out and we'll be moving on shortly. 

I still can't believe I left Portland last Saturday and will be riding into California today, over 500 miles in 8 days.  How am I going to spend these next 5 months?  I know it's going to be one big blur just like the last 8 days; one long, beautiful goddamn blur.

Days 6, 5, 4 - 9/29/16 - Sunset Bay State Park, OR

A hot cup of tea after a warm meal is a new thing for me; I did not have any cookware the entire time it took me to get across the country.  My life on the bike has improved supremely since leaving Portland.  Yesterday I made noodles for lunch right on the shore, winds constantly blowing, I felt like the man who invented fire.  We didn't get on the road til 11:00 this morning.  Julie and I, that is.  She's from Boston, riding from Seattle to San Fran and somehow we found each other out here. 

We met yesterday briefly on the road; her and another couple came up behind me while I was shedding some layers on the side of the road.  The other couple, two young Brits that got hitched less than a month ago and are traveling on bike around a handful of countries for their honeymoon.  The four of us didn't ride together too long, we were in a hilly area along the shore, a situation where everyone goes at their own pace. 

And with as many scenic viewpoints to peer out into the bright white distance, it wasn't a quick ride for any of us.  But, we all met back up at the same campground, Honeyman State Park, where a bunch of older doods were already set up and handing around a flask of whiskey. 

I had met one of them, Erik, at Cape Lookout State Park a couple days ago.  He takes interested folks out on bike tours as part of his job.  Where do I apply?  So 7 of us cyclists were gathered in this hiker/biker site with the ultimate hippie, Stephen, that has been traveling since '67, so he says, and has been wandering back and forth to and from different state parks with hundreds of pages he's written about all his life experiences on all the different planes of reality he exists in. 

But only Julie and I left the campground the following morning, everyone else had plans to stay another night, even Stephen.  It's hard to pinpoint anything specific about my journey down the coast thus far.  The weather has been beautiful and the scenery takes my breath away constantly.  It's hard to believe it will get better but, that's what people keep telling me.  Well, bring it on.

Back on the Road - Days 3, 2, 1, and Before I Left Portland

9/26/16

Cape Lookout State Park, OR

The fog is rolling in, actual fog although, anytime I sit down to write and recap a significant amount of time, a mental fog creeps in over all the details that once seemed so clear.  What can I do?  The ocean can't be more than 50 yards from my tent, filling all the empty space with soothing, hushing sounds.  

I was never too far from the Pacific today, 101 stayed as close as it could, sometimes right above the shimmering blue hundreds of feet below.  If the road ever veered away inland it brought me through lush tunnels of green that seemed to be supported by physical beams of light that hung on the eary morning humidity.  Cannon Beach can't be much more than 20 miles South of Warrenton, the town I ended my coast to coast ride in before my slow saunter back to Portland.  Those 20 miles weren't the most scenic but, they were incredibly exciting as they were the first new sites I'd seen in a week.  

When I left Portland on my new bike, all I could think about was getting past Warrenton, I felt like that's when the next chapter would begin with new places and new characters never-before-seen.  Everyone I've met has gone back home or continued their own journey without a bike between their legs.  I kind of have the feeling that I'm staying after hours, like Summer closed and it's only fitting to return home but, I guess it's time to see what goes on after dark – and with a new bike.  

I wish everyone could understand how different it feels to have a bike fitted to my body in every way; it's like if you were to wear your shoes on the opposite feet and go for a 10 mile hike and then switch your shoes around and do it again.  It's night and day, it truly is and I could not be happier.  I thought waiting for her would be painful, like waiting for your birthday when it falls on Christmas and you're 10 years old, but no.  I took it slow going back to the city, turned a 2 day ride into 5, this time on the Washington side of the Columbia to switch things up.  

I felt like a hobo-drifter, no roof to return to, just watching time slip through my hands in the small towns that run along the river; towns where kids are going back to school, coming off that summer time-high while I'm counting the days til I get back on the toad to follow it to the land of endless summer.  Even when I got back to Portland I still had a week before my bike would be ready.  I spent that week between Ben's place and a woman's home I met through Warm Showers, just floating around the city, eating and drinking too much coffee, sinking into the couch, watching TV and smoking too much weed to try and accomplish anything.  

But I owed myself a vacation, a little time to truly do nothing, a little time to lose track of time. Oh, the meals I ate.  If Portland is good for one thing it's eating.  I'm glad I didn't keep track of what I spent, I'll be doing that on the road, attempting to live as cheaply as possible.  No more breakfasts that cover the entire table in pancakes, eggs, and potatoes.  

The fog is still all around me although it's too dark to see anything except for what falls under the beam of my headlamp.  The ocean is still hushing, a sound that will never end like the heartbeat of the Earth.  I don't know how many miles it is to San Diego and I really don't care.  The ride has already been breathtaking, even though it's just begun I don't want to know how few miles are left, I just want to ride South as clueless as possible on my beautiful new bike.

Ben, my friend.

Everything we do in our lives becomes part of the stories we can tell; whether it's riding across the country on a bike, going to college, fighting an addiction, or feeling stuck at home with a deadend job and a mountain of debt, we are always changing, growing, and learning.  I've been spending my time in Portland at my friend, Ben's place.  I haven't seen him since college and I'm so grateful our paths could intersect while I'm out riding my bike.  Ben may not be on a bike but, he's on his own amazing journey.  For the last 5 years, Ben has been working to make his outward appearance resonate with who he really is inside while dealing with the physical and emotional gauntlet that this sort of metamorphosis demands of all transgender folks.  Many people out there don't even have the goddamn guts to face the emotions they feel inside, they just bury them and try to move on while something weighs on their mind like a small pebble finding its way into your shoe.  

But not Ben, or anyone else that has been on the same path, is in the middle of it, or anyone that's taken the very first steps.  To know yourself so intimately takes strength and dedication and it all amounts to a truly beautiful being, someone who takes control of their own life and their own happiness, doing what they need to feel human.  I'm so happy to have met Ben back in college while he was still Ashley, and now to see him so happy, bearded and handsome overwhelms me.  All of us on this big blue space ship we call Earth deserve some comfort and happiness although, we can't always get there on our own.  So please, help out my dear friend with anything you can, especially the folks that asked if they could donate anything to MY trip, I don't need or want anything but, there's a fine young man that could use some kindness from strangers right here.  

Ben has made these notebooks to reward anyone that makes a donation to his surgery fund.  You can follow the link below to donate and learn more.

https://www.youcaring.com/benjamin-charbonneau-point-5cc-622928

Any money leftover will be donated to the Transgender Surgery Fund, a link to their page can be found below.

http://point5cc.com/annual-transgender-surgery-fund/

Day 96 - 9/11/16 Clatskanie to Fort Stevens State Park, OR - The End

We broke down our camp, packed up our bikes, and got pancakes.  We ate like it was our last meal, the table was covered in food and the coffee flowed like the Columbia; perhaps we were making up for the time we were denied coffee and pancakes back in Paterson, WA.  Or maybe we're just gross.  

We continued on 30, pushing right along, there was no need to stop until we got to Astoria.  There, the Columbia River became visible again and it was clear that she was getting wider as we got closer to her mouth emptying into the Pacific.  All this water meant nothing to me right then; it was a gray zone.  At what point does the river become the ocean?  For me, I wanted to be able to look out and see nothing beyond the water, hear nothing but the dull roar of the waves.  

Astoria was not the end.  We crossed the bridge over Young's Bay and snaked our way down windy, wooded roads that offered no view as to what was around us so, we kept going, looking for big blue.  Finally, at the state park we found the right path that would lead us to the beach.  We cruised down it going too fast for the dog walkers and other pedestrians enjoying a Sunday afternoon but, we were greedy, thirstier for salt water than we were hungry for pancakes this morning.  

Then we got there, cars were shuffling on the parking lot pavement, kicking up sand.  People were walking over the mounds of sand into the light.  The excitement rose in me, I leaned my bike against the wall, the sound found my ears and my eyes rested on the water.  And we stared for a moment.  The next thing I knew, I was knee deep in freezing salty water, screaming into the horizon, probably scaring people and sea gulls around me.

 

Oh well.  I had this crazy feeling that I was actually back home on the East coast, I think my mind is just trained to assume that's where I am when I see the ocean.  I've only seen the Pacific a few times last summer in California.  Billy and I didn't know quite what to do next.  There's a campground here but, we decided to keep looking at the water.  So we did.  

Not much later the locals, or whoever they were, got their chairs lined up to watch the sun set, so we joined.  Billy said to me, "as the sun sets right here, it rises in Japan."  I never really thought about what the sun does after it sets, I guess it never really stops doing what it does.  The onlookers wasted no time leaving the beach once the sun went down.  

We quickly set up our tents out of site and let the ocean sing us to sleep.  Just before bed, I took the little bag of sand I had collected back in April when I originally tried to walk across the country, and dumped it on the ground.  There was quite the contrast in color.  My sand was dry and light and the sand on the beach was dark and damp, they looked good together.  Soon enough, it will all be mixed, our tents and bikes will be gone and no one will know I was here.

Day 95 - 9/10/16 Portland to Clatskanie, OR

Billy met me outside of Ben's place just before 7:00am.  He made it to Portland a day after Colin and I.  With tires and spare tubes double-checked this time, Billy was ready to ride out of the city and toward the coast, so was I.  We couldn't leave town without a donut so we each bought a couple from Voodoo and a nice cup-o-joe to get the blood pumping while the city was still warming up.  We both agreed this was the best time in Portland, early morning on a Saturday; not many cars or people or other bikers, just the pigeons picking up scraps and the rare city-slicker that has somewhere to be (besides Voodoo Doughnuts) on Saturday morning.  

Out of the city, we stayed on highway 30 for the whole ride, a road not too scenic but, with a comfortable shoulder for riding along.  There was nothing we were hoping to see at this point, we just wanted the blue of the ocean in our eyes.  So we pedaled and pedaled for nearly 70 miles to Clatskanie where we went to bed early with talk of the ocean and the final miles on our minds.