Pacific Coast, part 3: Crescent City to San Francisco

July 15 (Crescent City to Elk Prairie, 43.52 miles) - It was a weird feeling leaving Crescent City in my rear view mirror. On my previous trip this marked my turn around point as I headed home through Oregon. But this trip I was continuing on south. It was a pleasure because every mile after this was new to me, at least from the bicycle view. I've been through the mighty Redwoods before, but only in a car and they go by so fast that way. This way I could take it slow and thus, it became something special. I took Katie's advice and took the short detour into the Jedediah Smith Redwoods up Howland Hill Rd. It was named appropriately because it just kept going up and up through the Redwood forest. It was early morning and the fog was settling into the trees. I thought it was the coolest thing. I had determined not to travel the entire way through this part because I still had to make progress south. But my time in this forest was amazing. These were perhaps some of the best Redwoods around and the fog made it even more awe-inspiring. These quiet giants were something else. I hopped off my bike and walked up the hill for some time just gazing at these awesome trees in the early morning hours. As I was walking along past a pick-up truck, I heard the driver call out to me, "Hey, what's your e-mail?" Apparently he had his phone out and was taking my picture as I walked up the hill. He wanted to send it to me. I included one of the copies at the end of this post. It happened to be one of my favorite photos taken the whole trip. The photographer's name was Ken.

I passed through the Del Norte Coast Redwoods where there were some steep grades up and downhills. It was quite dangerous along the ocean. I could barely make out the ocean because of the fog which was pretty cool. I went over to the side and looked out at the vast array of white until I saw a glimpse of water. It felt like I was in an airplane. There were many random pullouts in the Redwood National and State Parks. I came to the Trees of Mystery in Klamath where I've been before and snapped a picture with Paul Bunyan (who talked this time) and Babe the blue ox. This was one of those tourist traps. I didn't stay long. It was shortly after this I met up with a trio of buddies touring together. I think it was up one of those grueling 2-3 mile hills on 101. Man, that's a draining road. The heat was pretty killer too. I rode with them for a little ways. We came to Prairie Creek Redwoods and took a small hike to some fabulous Redwood groves. The trouble with these forests is that in order to see the actual giants, you have to get off the beaten path and that is difficult one a bicycle with nothing to lock to. So, needless to say I didn't stop that often and go exploring as I would've liked to. At one point I passed two of the guys who were fixing a flat, the first one of their trip. They asked if I saw the other guy they were with if I could just let him know of their predicament. I did come to my first drive-through tree back in Klamath near the Trees of Mystery. It does cost, but the price is dramatically reduced if you arrive on foot or bicycle and I thought, what the heck!

I took Katie's advice and followed the Newton B. Drury Scenic Parkway that hugged the coast and went away from 101. She told me this is a must because if I took 101, not only would it be heavy traffic, but the elevation dramatically ascends to high limits. So this was a no brainer.And plus this was a very scenic drive that I did not regret one bit! Plus, my campground happened to be right along this path.

My destination was Elk Prairie Campground in Prairie Creek and it was rightly named due to the amount of Elk roaming the open fields and forests. I didn't see too many that night but did see a lot the following morning. As I made camp, I realized how obnoxious those three guys were. I guess it was because they were flirting with a few girls. I did see the two English gals here. They tended to keep to themselves and after doing my duty and getting ready, I went to sleep because I was feeling a bit dizzy and needed to recharge.

July 16 (Elk Prairie to Arcata, 47.38 miles) - Elk Prairie was a beautiful place. Since I got a lot of rest, I decided to get an early start. I was one of the early ones to leave the hiker/biker sites. I had to capture a series of photographs of the nearby grazing elk. I even got one of two of them butting heads. I felt like Marty Stouffer. Well, not quite.

I had originally planned to stay in Trinidad, but my warmshowers contact fell through. He was no longer going to be in town when I was passing through. It was a cool town though. I got to see the famous Trinidad lighthouse and meet up with my English friends again. I think I also might've seen Arnold here. I ate with another guy at a picnic table outside a food stop. It was also here where I first took notice of a large touring group of teenagers. It reminded me of the Canadian bike trips long ago I used to go on. They seemed very organized. I was glad I was going solo...so much more freedom that way. I am not totally against going with others, if those people are like good friends, etc. But overall, solo is what I'm used to and solo is so rewarding.

I was scrambling to find a place to stay that night. I had a friend living in Eureka at the time but he eventually turned me down because he was living with his girlfriend's house and he checked to see if his pastor had room which was also a no go. But it was a big area, so I wasn't too worried. There was bound to be somewhere to go. I lucked out in Arcata with a lovely Greta. It was perfect timing too. The kids were out of the house and she was alone so there was plenty of room for me to stay. She operated a massage business in her home and had a client over when I was there. It was sad she didn't offer me one. I sure could've used one haha. I laid out my stuff on the big trampoline and Greta said I could either set up camp outside or there's a couch inside if I preferred that. I chose to go inside just for the ease. But first I had to clean my bike outside, lube the chain etc. And her black and white dog helped me. She was playful. I lied on the couch planning the next few days as I drifted off to sleep.

July 17 (Arcata via Ferndale to Humboldt Redwoods State Park at Burlington Campground, 65.30 miles) - Being a farmhand, Greta was up before me. She was running around the house and outside doing chores. After gathering my things up and putting them on my bike I found her and bid her farewell thanking her for her generous hospitality. As I rode on the backroads through Eureka, all I could think of was, "what a dump." This city stunk and was filled with garbage. I know I only had a glimpse but what I saw was nothing to write home about. I was looking forward to getting through.

Not far after Eureka and Loleta, was the turn off that would head to the Lost Coast. This was the treacherous but beautiful area that the crazy adventurous guy told us about back in Oregon. The Lost Coast is a huge section of the northern California coast whose terrain was too hilly and rugged that they did not even attempt to build a highway through. Therefore it is called the Lost Coast. There are a few small towns interspersed between the mountainous terrain. The road conditions were ambiguous to me. Some sounded paved, but most sounded like dirt and gravel. It was very tempting to head this way and onto Mattole Road that takes you to Petrolia, but in the end, I deemed it wise not to travel this way on this trip. I did, however head as far as Ferndale because I heard this was a must see town. It was a very cool Victorian looking town. I heard that Ferndale Pizza, Co. was a spectacular place to eat, but the prices were a bit much for me. My splurge was yet to come...And wouldn't you know it, I met up with my two English friends Anna and Anne here of all places. We went our separate ways again until the next time. My road that took me out of Ferndale was Grizzly Bluff Rd. which was a very bumpy half-paved, half-gravel road. The countryside in this area was breath taking. It took me to the small towns of Rio Dell and Scotia where I spotted an old train and some old cars. These were cool towns to pass through. I also spotted apparently where they were taking all those logs from the log trucks. I took a few pictures of this massive log and wood field before my camera battery died for the first time.

Ah, the Avenue of the Giants. This is what I have been looking forward to for some time! This is a 30 mile self-guided scenic tour of the Redwoods that departs from the main highway. The Avenue of the Giants made my day. I stopped at the Eternal Tree House where a motorcyclist was providing a history lesson to his buddy and myself. He was talking about the rings of the trees, etc. He thought they were called halos or fairies or something like that. I forget what he called them, but it was a very interesting talk. My sleep that night would come to Humboldt Redwoods State Park in the heart of the Avenue of the Giants. There's nothing like sleeping under quiet giants like these. It was very peaceful. I felt so small among these trees. It's marvelous. How majestic is the Lord!

July 18 (Humboldt Redwoods to Standish-Hickey State Park, 49.09 miles) - Today was a warm one. Well, all these days were quite warm. They all kind of just blended together I suppose. The further south I traveled the warmer it got, ever so slightly, or at least it seemed to. I finished off the Avenue of the Giants and came back into the light as it were. The Shrine Drive-Thru tree was the second of three trees you could drive through towards the south end of the Avenue. I probably wouldn't pay for them again, but it was nice to see them once. I stopped somewhere around Benbow Lake State Recreation area or the Richardson Grove State Park for lunch. This is such a beautiful area of the country. I know I've said it many times before, but I cannot express how majestic these trees are enough! I met John Paul and a few others I've seen along the way, at Standish-Hickey State Recreation Area. This marked the end of Hwy 101 for a while, well at least for bicycling. California Highway 1 began a few miles down the road at Leggett. I met a man here (can't remember his name, Terry, William, something like that). He was an older gentleman who is an experienced cyclist. I got to talking with him and John Paul some that night. He was telling stories of touring in Europe, Italy in particular. John Paul expressed interest in heading over there one of these days. And, once again, they brought up the Leggett hill. I've been warned about this before and they just reiterated the toughness of this road. So, there you have it. I wasn't exactly worried, but at least I knew what was coming...or did I?

July 19 (Standish-Hickey to MacKerricher State Park, 45.08 miles) - Today marked the day when I really left the Redwood Empire. There were some later on, but not as many. I was moving into new territory. Before I left Leggett, I had to enter the third and last drive thru tree on the corner of Hwy 101 and Hwy 1. After that, it was time I saw what this hill was all about - what all the hype and hoopla was. Let me tell you: they certainly were not exaggerating. The road began just leaving Leggett protruding straight up with a steep grade for miles. There was a sign that read "Narrow Winding Road Next 22 Miles, Watch for Bicycles." The good thing about this road was there was little traffic, at least on this section. Later on it would heat up. Although when cars do come up behind you around the curves, they aren't going slow. I'm not gonna lie: It's a dangerous piece of pavement. There was one instance where a white car was flying by me, startled me and caused me to steer into the ditch. I only did that about 2 or 3 times this entire trip though! The first town with services was 28 miles away. I hope I packed enough food and water to last! Ha.

On the way up, I was surprised that I stayed on my bike the majority of the way. There was a time I just had to take a break and rest my sore bum and walk. I also passed that group of teenagers on a cycle tour I mentioned earlier. It wasn't until Westport or shortly thereafter where I passed them again for the last time. Westport RV Park was really cool. It was this long stretch of campground right on the beach. If there wasn't more daylight left, I might've camped here for the night. But let me back up a little bit. That moment after climbing Leggett hill and then protruding downhill for miles and then back up again for miles, doing that a couple of times, coming to the ocean finally after many days of forest riding, was to say the least, spectacular. There wasn't anything like it. That rugged looking coastline was magnificent. I looked back to my right and saw where the Lost Coast was. There's just something about seeing ocean for the first time...it takes your breath away and you sit there speechless and in awe. That's how I felt. I didn't even want to leave.

At MacKerricher State Park and even before that in Westport I believe I met Tyler, a weed-smoking young, energetic cyclist whom I would later catch up with past San Francisco. He's an interesting character. The English folks were here too. Surprise, surprise!! It might've been here where an English chap emerged from the woods...not on a bike, but with a backpack. He was backpacking through the area. You don't see many of those around. They usually tend to stay to the back country.

July 20 (MacKerricher to Elk at Cameron Road, 28.21 miles) - Today was laundry day. I set up today to be a shorter day so I could have enough time to do laundry. I wasn't sure when I would be able to do it next. Therefore, as I rolled into Fort Bragg, I found a small laundromat. It was nice to have a break from the saddle of my bike. As I sat and waited for my laundry to wash and hang dry, I took a few moments to inventory my clothing. I ended up throwing away my yellow shirt because it as showing signs of wear and had a few big holes in it. Plus it gave me an excuse to get rid of some weight, ever so slightly. I got an ice cream cone at McDonald's per my tradition and chatted up a homeless hitchhiker, or rather him me before I merged onto Hwy 1 once more.

In Mendocino I realized there was a huge music festival going on. It was a happening place - so many people walking around and the beach was filled with festivities. I walked my bike around town, looking at the cool shops and people watching which I like to do on tour. As I was walking my loaded bike, a man stopped me and asked if I had a place to stay that night. His son is actually on tour right now across the country and he and his wife have a soft spot for touring cyclists. His wife came and joined our conversation. Unfortunately, I already made plans with a warmshowers host in Elk, but if I hadn't I would've taken them up on their generous offer of lodging. It is always wonderful when you meet kind strangers willing to open up their home to you. With all the terrible things in the world, there is still good left and we ought to recognize that and seek that out and become that! Thanks again stranger-turned friend!

For my lodging that night I had to climb a steep Cameron Road just outside the town of Elk. The host was Judy Bonney and she lived with her parents on a farm. I met her brother and a few other family members I couldn't keep track of as well as a bunch of farm animals and a friendly dog who liked to play catch! Judy and her brother, despite their exhaustion from the day's activities were lovely hosts. They spent the day celebrating a birthday and went on the skunk train as a family and had a lot to eat. So they were pooped. Therefore, they did not have much in the form of food to offer me, but they did offer a salad and wine. I declined the wine, but gladly took some salad. They let me set up my tent outside wherever I deemed suitable. They had a really nice outdoor shower and bathroom I could use too. Before I called it a night, Judy asked if I would be opposed to a thermos of coffee in the morning if she came out to my tent. I was not and thanked her for the offer. Unfortunately, I did not see them in the morning because I had to get on my way, mainly because it was raining and my stuff was getting soaked. As Judy and her brother warned me about: The next day, shortly after Elk, I would encounter the steepest part of the entire Hwy 1. It's a very short distance and doesn't show up on Google, but it is the steepest. And they sure were right! I had fun watching the log trucks trying to make these curves on the mountainous coast.

July 21 (Elk to Sonoma Beach State Park at Bodega Dunes Campground, 89.00 miles) - I woke fairly early to a damp tent and a damp ground outside. Sure enough, it had been raining through the night. Fog had settled in and I was quick to pack up my tent and belongings on my bike to get a fresh early start to the day! I slowly went down the gravel road and turned left onto Hwy 1 into the fog. It was actually fairly chilly. I had to wear my jacket and even put my full-fingered gloves on. But I soon warmed up after riding a few miles. After Manchester, I came to Point Arena where there was a cool lighthouse to view.

About 30 miles from Elk I stopped in Gualala (pronounced with a "W" a I was told by Judy's brother) and as I parked my bike outside a grocery store, I met up with Conner from Crescent City again as well as another cyclist who said he was going slow but to me he was making great time. He said he was headed to Sonoma Coast State Park. I for one wasn't totally sure how far I would make it. Only time would tell, right? Conner went in to see if they would take food stamps. I left him and never saw him again. I was always expecting to see him again down the road but never did. I knew I would at least ride to Salt Point State Park. When I arrived, I had about 50 miles under my belt that day. I felt good and it was only about 4pm or 5pm. I rode into the park and around and had a decision to make. I was all about seeing the sights, but I also wanted to make mileage. I went to the entrance of the park and waited for a while. I was hoping I would see Conner ride through. I wasn't sure where he was staying. Being on such a strict budget, he usually found spots on the beach or deep in the woods somewhere. No such luck. I made the plunge and decided to be on my way. After all, it's adventure! I still had another 30 to 40 miles to go before Sonoma Beach.

Somewhere between Fort Ross and Jenner by the Sea the lights went out. And by that, I mean the sun went down and darkness reigned. This wasn't exactly the best place for that to happen seeing that much of this road went straight by the cliff on the oceanside. The upside was I couldn't see it therefore it relieved some of the fear. Although, I could hear the mighty waves crashing into the cliffs. Unbeknownst to me at the time was the sheer length of Sonoma Coast State Park. I was in search of Bodega Dunes Campground that I knew had a hiker/biker site. When I first came to the park, I still had a long ways to go - the southern end. One car was nice enough to pull over and ask if I was okay. I did have my headlight and flasher on. I told them where I was trying to get to and they did their best to help me out but in the end they left and wished me luck. They did help some and told me they knew of a campground close by, but wasn't sure of Bodega. I did appreciate the help. I kept riding as that's all I could've hoped to do up and down the rolling hills close to the cliff's edge. There was one good thing about riding at night: When a car was coming, you knew it far in advance because of the headlights shooting around the corner.

When Bodega Dunes campground came into sight, I was so relieved I could almost fall over. I pulled in and lifted my bike over the sand and heard a voice say, "Hey," through the night as a fellow cyclist was giving his greeting. I looked over and it was John Paul! I was beat and did not want to set up my tent in the dark, so I just laid my mat and bag on the sand and went quickly to sleep under the stars. The German pair were here too. I hadn't mentioned them before but I've encountered them a few times as well. Maybe some others, but it was dark and I was blurry-eyed. It was good to be here.

July 22 (Sonoma Beach to Samuel P. Taylor State Park, 52.09 miles) - After Bodega Bay, for the next 50 or so miles began some confusion leading into the Bay Area. I knew John Paul was heading to Samuel P. Taylor and so was Steven, an older Asian gentleman that I met along the way. Most of these guys had the same "Bicycling the Pacific Coast" book with differing editions, but I just had a few faithful maps whenever Google led me astray. I started off pretty early and Steven had passed me asking if I was okay when I was stopped looking at my map confused. I was okay though, just taking a break. A little ways down the road our roles were reversed. He was stopped and I asked him if he was okay. I stopped and we discussed the route. We were both a little confused. A police officer pulled over and he gave some direction. To my recollection, both ways could get you to the same place. Steven was relying to much on his book than just riding. However the road was really smooth and he was on a roll just plowing through the miles. Arnold came up behind us and was headed where we were at first. When we figured it out, Steven turned around and I continued straight. I rode alone for most of the way. My route took me through Chileno Valley Rd. and Red Hill Road which definitely was a hill for sure. I was in the countryside and looked out behind me at the top of the hill and took in the magnificent view of California. I didn't have much water at this point. It was hot and I was tired.

The hand of God was surly by my side because as I was about to fall off my bike due to thirst in the middle of the countryside, I make a turn and pass right by a random cheese factory with a little store. It was a nice little community in there and I was in search of a drinking fountain. I couldn't find one and was forced to buy a huge bottle of ice cold water that tasted glorious. I also got some road snacks and an ice cream to cool my throat. It was expensive, but I don't spend much and it was well worth it!

I met up with Arnold somewhere down the road and he was saying he made it half way to Petaluma before he realized he was going in the wrong direction. I told you this area was confusing! Well, I caught up with Steven and John Paul at Samuel P. Taylor State Park where the hiker/biker sites were filling up fast and they sent us down to the end where a second one was opening. The sites here were a little more expensive...they get that way the further south you travel and we were close to San Francisco so that kind of made sense. The three of us shared a campsite and swapped stories from the day because we all went different ways. John Paul was ending his trip in San Francisco so gave me some of his food that was left over, a tomato, peanut butter jar and some honey and tuna can. I was glad to take that off his hands. He was catching a flight back to Idaho. Steven on the other hand was headed all the way into Baja. As we talked on at the table this night, Steven was writing in his journal. He gave us each one of his cards. He's a writer and planned to feature John Paul in one of his books as the "man whose done a little of everything." He's in construction right now but hearing him talk it does sound like he's done some of everything including driving truck. Steven's wife is a theologian and they differed quite a bit apparently. He was from Boston but was living in Astoria working on his writing at the time.

John Paul has made this coast trip to San Francisco many times before. He does it about every 3 years or so when he can get a few weeks off work. He was telling us about a great pizza place in Sausalito just before you get to the Golden Gate. He plans to stop there for lunch tomorrow. We thought that was a plan. Alrighty, time for bed.

July 23 (Samuel P. Taylor to San Francisco, 37.93 miles) - The three of us left at the same time to head into the Bay Area. Let me tell you if it weren't for the well marked signs through these areas, I would get so lost. There are places where bicycles can go easily and others where they cannot. Thank you signs. Steven and John Paul left me in the dust. I was trying, but it wasn't a race. Steven had a full floor pump tied to his rear rack. Pretty cool. Anyway, it was actually a fun ride. Along Sir Francis Drake Blvd. through Fairfax, San Anselmo, Ross, Larkspur, Corte Madera, and Marin City before entering Sausalito. Sometime I would like to explore Point Reyes Seashore and the Marin Headlands and Muir Woods when I have more time allotted. I passed one pizza place but that one didn't seem right so I continued towards the water. As I was slowly riding I glanced over to my right and saw John Paul's bike parked outside a pizza place. I was like, "that bike looks familiar." He waved me in. The whole place here was crowded so it was next to impossible for me to park and lock my bike, so I just kept my eyes glued to it from inside. John Paul ordered a pizza and ate in front of me while I ordered a large one myself. He told me he hadn't seen Steven yet. He bid me farewell and left. That was the last time I saw him. My pizza came and I ate a glorious slice before I strapped the whole thing to the back of my bike and rode toward the bridge.

I met up with those three buddies I saw in the Redwoods. They were crossing the bridge too. Steven also rode up and told me he was delayed due to a flat he just got before entering Sausalito. Annoying flats! But I wouldn't know anything about that! Even the path leading up to cross the bridge was confusing. I saw Steven going the wrong way, but I couldn't yell to him because of the insane traffic volume. He stopped and looked down at this map so maybe he knew what to do. I cross the Golden Gate Bridge and the volume of bicycle tourists (and I mean people who rent bikes here to ride across the bridge) was insane. They were everywhere. One of them asked if I had a chain tool which I did and helped him with his bike on the bridge. The first time I used it and wasn't even sure how, but I think he did. I was finally able to find a warmshowers host in the city. However, he was only able to accommodate me for one night. I was looking to stay there two nights to explore the city and bay. So I was searching for someone else. Mik Kocikowski was a nice young man though. He gave me a bed, use of the kitchen and shower. I was sure stinky after today. And I finally had a chance to charge my phone which was also acting up. I called home for the first time and Dad was surprised I already made it to San Francisco. It was a hectic day and I was thankful to have a bed for the night.

July 24 (San Francisco Rest Day, 42.88 miles) - Mik had to leave early in the morning and told me just to lock the door and gate when I left. It was my first time in a San Francisco apartment...pretty cool. Today was supposed to be my first official "rest day." However, in order to truly explore the city in one day, I would have to do my share of riding. I was finally able to make contact with a warmshowers host: Beckett. He told me it was fine if I stayed, so I had no worries that whole day. I rode up and down the extremely high hills of San Francisco. I saw Lombard Street, the world's crookest street. I saw Colt Tower as I ate a Chipotle burrito. The Palace of Fine Arts was something amazing. The Golden Gate Park and Presidio were outstanding as well as the lakes and Ocean Beach. I saw Alcatraz from across the water and took in views of the Golden Gate Bridge and the Bay Bridge into Oakland. I toured Fisherman's Warf and the ultra-crowded Pier 39. There was so much to do in this city and I had barely scratched the surface. It was difficult because I had my bike and I couldn't really leave it anywhere. The first thing I did actually when I arrived was head into Crissy Field and ate my pizza. It truly was my first splurge. You have to have those little splurges every now and again to keep the adventure real and to keep you sane!

Well this was truly a fun day in San Francisco. The city is very bicycle friendly except for the people. It really is filled with rude people and tourists. But the city itself is magnificent. I wouldn't mind living here for a spell. Well, my fun ended when the sun came down. Becket asked when I was coming and I told him I am on my way but I am across town so I'd be there when I get there. When I arrived in his neck of the woods, I called him and he gave me some sketchy directions. I asked someone on the street but she was from Seattle so that was a no go. He called back and said he would come down in 10 minutes and then later texted me telling me he came down and waited but I never showed, and immediately before my phone died I sent a text and said sorry for the wait, but I'm here now because I just found it. So, I waited...and waited. I was right in front of his place now but my phone was dead and there was nothing I could do but wait. I knew there was probably a hostel nearby, but with no direction, I had no hope. I waited in front of his apartment for a good 2 or 3 hours before I realized he had given up on me. I left his place at about 11:00pm.

What did I do next? Walked the city until dawn. I went to places I knew of. I made my way to the waterfront, to Fisherman's Warf, ate at In-N-Out Burger. I had a milkshake and fries as I watched a homeless couple on the street. The cafe closed at 1:00am so I had to move on. I walked by the waterside which was very calming. I did my best to avoid the sketchy areas of town. I took a picture of the sunrise as it came up behind the bridge. I had a lot of pondering to do as I walked up and down streets, wishing I had just cycled to Half-Moon Bay the previous day. But who knew? I went to Pier 39 which was deserted except for some graveyard workers working on the dock. I found an outlet there outside one the of shops to charge my phone by the piano stairs. I sat down and it was getting pretty chilly so I pulled on my jacket. I was there a few hours trying not to fall asleep. My phone was almost charged when a security guard approached me at about 4:00am asking if I worked there. Then he proceeded to tell me that the pier is closed until about 6:00am when people start showing up. Well, how was I supposed to know? There was no sign after all. So I moved on. I found a Grocery Outlet across town so I made my way there before it opened at 8:00am to buy some food for the day. I came to the Golden Gate Bridge when the sun was rising, ate a bagel and went and bought groceries before I rode to Ocean Beach, bypassed the nude beach and headed south towards Daly City...

It was at this time I had to make a crucial decision (which I had actually made a few days earlier): Was I to cut inland and ride home or was I to continue south? I chose to cycle south and complete the coast. At this point it seemed like the logical choice. I came this far. It seemed silly not to continue, ya know? And inland meant more heat and mountains vs. hills. I wasn't ready to take on mountains. Yes, I would like to see Tahoe and Yosemite, but they would have to wait for another trip. So, my new destination became San Diego and the Mexican Border...

Pacific Coast, part 2: Lincoln City to Crescent City

I decided to try again to ride the coast...here goes nothing...or something...let's do this.

Let's get dangerous! See you on the flip-side...

July 8 (Lincoln City to Beverly Beach State Park, 21.25 miles) - Finally I am on the road again. After my bout of injuries, frustrations, worry and tears, I am back at it. After packing, my Dad drove me out to Lincoln City after lunch. He bought our traditional doughnuts at Safeway to send me on my way the right way! I began the trip where I left off - Devil's Lake State Park. It was here two weeks prior where I broke down and the tears flowed. But alas, after rejuvenation I have determined to accomplish my task. My packs are very heavy and my bike is thus wobbly. But after riding it some down the road, it's not that bad. My plan for this first day is to make it to Beverly Beach State Park just north of Newport, some 20 miles away. I decided it a good idea to take a lot of breaks to ease my Achilles into the swing of cycling. The ocean - I could stare at the ocean all day. I don't know what it is about the ocean - I don't mean whale watching or looking at something specific in the distance - just watching the ocean - the vast expanse of water - God's creation! I saw a bunny today - not that that's important at all, but he's God's creation too - gotta think of the little guy. Man, it's windy! Dangerous on 101 that is. Lots of viewpoints. I kissed a whale...sorta. There are a lot of other cyclists here at Beverly Beach - a cute girl came but she seemed to be more interested in the world traveler than my awesomeness. I was worried cause the highway sign read "Campground Full" but I guess they had more hiker/biker sites. I would later learn that most parks are "Full" but there are always room for cyclists to lay down. It's getting dark and it's mighty chilly too. But hey, lots to rejoice over - I'm back on the road and made it to my first rest stop. No support guy, but more freedom. Dang, I forgot my poncho - my blue poncho. I hope it doesn't rain! I knew I'd forget something. I always do. I am sleepy. I had leftover chicken tonight and Canada Dry Green Tea thanks to my trusty Hydro Flask - Goodnight Biycle - tomorrow it's off to Bike Newport. Hmm...say Google, when do they open?

July 9 (Beverly Beach to Beachside State Park, 30.62 miles) - It's amazing how chilly and windy the coast can be. I rode through Newport for a break at Bike Newport. They didn't offer me free coffee - sad. Anyway, I met a pair (1 support, 1 rider) from Minnesota who were riding to San Francisco as well. It seems popular to do that. One guy did it in 1983 when hiker/bikers were only 25 cents. Oh how the times have changed. Still better than a regular tent site, that's for darn sure. Wow. Today I stopped at a lot of waysides and parks to continue my streak of breaks. Waldport is a cool little town. I scratched my leg pretty bad as I was taking a photo of myself in front of the sign. I picked up a subway and had cheese, crackers and sausage for dinner. I made it to Beachside State Park, which is literally right on the beach side! I'm here charging my camera and phone. There are several other bikers here. I wish I could just strike up a conversation with them - but that's not how I roll I suppose, no pun intended. It shows you how much I'm trying to accomplish with Perfect Circles and all. What is that exactly? Well, no service here, so I may hit the beach for awhile and maybe call it an early night - but the ground is so uncomfortable. My pad is holding no air - it leaks and I found one leak but where are it's friends? Grrrr.... Tomorrow should be a longer day - fifty or so miles. I gotta start adding mileage. I gotta start early and take it easy. I saw lots of bridges on the coast! The bridges are very cool along the coastal highway. The coast looks mighty different since I did it in 2005 in a rainstorm - it's chilly, but it's sunny thank God! It was here at Beachside that I first met Anne and Anna from England. We would meet up and see each other on and off all the way to the Border. The beach is beautiful. I love the Oregon coast.

July 10 (Beachside to Umpqua Lighthouse State Park, 61.56 miles) - Last night I saw a pretty cool sunset right off the ocean since Beachside was basically right on the beach! God is good indeed. From Beachside I passed thru Yachats again - pretty cool town. Riding the coast is like watching a movie you haven't seen for 9 years because you don't remember much but then you do when it comes up - Oh yah, I remember that now - it's all coming back! The good, the bad and the ugly! The Sea Lion Caves - they charge you to see the caves - stupid. It's just like the Oregon Dunes - natural stuff in our own damn country. Then they decide to profit from it. I disagree...strongly! No me gusta! Heceta Head - you have to pay to see the lighthouse. Man-made things I can understand I suppose, sort of, but not our natural stuff...OUR natural stuff. It's our country. Why can't we see it? Why don't they charge us to see the ocean? Oh look over there. There is a blade of grass. That will be $5. Ridiculous. They are ours. It's like the drive-thru trees. It is a tree with a hole...get over it!

So from Florence, where I stocked up on some groceries, until about Bandon or maybe even further, the road takes you away from the ocean whether the map tells you that or not. My sleeping pad still feels as though a machine gun-wielding squirrel had a go with it. Good hard cold ground! My back hurts so bad. I had to just sleep. Dunes City - the Oregon Dunes which stretch a very long way are pretty cool from what little I've seen of them. I stopped and walked up to the Dunes overlook where there were some cute park ranger ladies, but again, if you wanted to see further, you had to freakin' pay. Is that why you're cute park rangers? Huh? To sucker guys into paying for the dunes? Well doesn't work on me...bam! I had forgotten about the long downhill to Gardiner which used to be the busiest town on the Oregon coast during the mill boom. After Reedsport, where I met the Minnesotan couple that I met in Newport, I rode through Winchester Bay and made camp in Umpqua Lighthouse State Park, where on my last trip 9 years prior I met up with Robert Mitchell who was headed north and me south. I relived those times, except this time I had to make a huge downhill slide into my undeveloped campsite - cleaned some brush to make camp and chatted with a nice fellow cyclist who had a homeless air about him. He said he was staying a few days. His name was John who went by R.B. He was a nice fella. Maybe see him down the road. Who knows. A lot of cyclists are headed south I've noticed. Tonight, walking through the campground with my toiletries my back gave out and made me stop dead in my tracks. I stumbled over to a park bench, sat down and ate my crackers and sausage. As I made it to my tent, I quickly crawled into bed, elevated my feet on my panniers and went to rest finally drifting off to sleep all the while praying that my back would heal the next morning.

July 11 (Umpqua Lighthouse to Bullards Beach State Park, 53.59 miles) - This morning R.B. made me some coffee to send me on my way. I promptly filled my hydro flask to keep it warm before I walked over to the fog-induced lake, snapped a few pictures and pondered the day. Today ended up being another tough day. Conde B McCullough - bridge designer - designed a significant number of bridges on the coast. It's fun doing this trip again. I can't believe I did this 9 years ago when I was 21. Well, in North Bend, I stopped off at the only bike shop around - Mo's - the same one I stopped in to get a $100 repair in 2005. I even remembered the same guy with the pony tail long hair. It's right across the bridge (I love bridges, but always make me nervous crossing them, they are often death traps, those and tunnels). Then there's Coos Bay, Oregon's Bay Area - sorry, no clipper ships this trip in the bay. What would possess someone to cycle fully-loaded on the torturous Seven Devils Road - and then do it AGAIN 9 years later. I will never know. Some of the steepest, gloomiest hills on the coast. Still cloudy and foggy this trip - but I survived yet again even with a detour to Sunset Bay State Park - Charleston to Bandon Scenic Route? Well, maybe another day. I have the greatest luck don't I? Cycling along Seven Devils I met a young man who was walking towards me with no shirt. He was carrying an empty mountain dew bottle and asked me for water. I was happy to provide some since I refueled in Coos Bay at a 7/11. Don't know where he was headed, but I hope he got there safely!

Well, I made it to Bandon however...finally and my phone is on it's dying legs. Well Bullards Beach is just north of Bandon. I took a second shower! Hiker/biker sites here were filling up fast - lots of riders, met a guy from Idaho (John-Paul who I would later see and re-meet up with until his destination of San Francisco, he does this trip every few years for endurance sake. He works construction in Idaho. He's the guy whose done a little of everything.) and a couple Frenchies and enjoyed a very nice treat - a fiddle show right next door at the amphitheater. I love fiddlers and folk - neat stuff. I think they were the Oregon Fiddlers or something. They perform all around and at state parks during the summer. Well, times have changed and this hiker/biker site has bike lockers and a bike stand too - great site! But apparently they moved it and John-Paul said he liked the other one much better. But this one is still very nice. Well, I gotta sleep now - here's to hoping I can sleep better and tomorrow hopefully take it easy and I've also got to clean my chain sometime soon. I was gonna do it tonight but ran out of time. Night all - oh, and in Coos Bay I got a spicy dog and free slurpee at 7/11 on 7/11...thought you should know! I believe the English ladies were at Bullards too.

July 12 (Bullards Beach to Humbug Mountain State Park, 40.55 miles) - Bullards state park has the coolest hiker/biker sites - complete with racks, bike locker, faucet for water bottles and a park tool bike stand to clean your bike...just in time cause I needed it. It looks like they've been improving over the years! I knew today was going to be shorter so I was in no hurry this morning. Plus it rained last night - first rain in quite some time a fellow tourist told me. Sand and rain don't mix when you're camping. The site is full of sand and bike gears don't like sand. But I managed! I washed my bottles, cleaned my bike, packed up and headed off. I stopped in Bandon, 3 miles down the road to gather groceries at my first Ray's of the trip! Cool town - took a scenic beach loop and saw some more wood carvings. It's amazing what people can do with wood - simply amazing.

Some cyclists came up behind me and they stopped in Langlois and I passed them and so forth. I remembered the Langlois Public Library from my last trip! But I pressed on and arrived in Port Orford finally. I am here at the Public Library charging my phone and camera and resting my knee. I think I pushed too hard up some of those hills - lots of rolling hill - hardly any flats on 101 - "Down means up" as the guy from Bike Newport told us...but doesn't it also mean down? Curious thought. At the library I stayed cause my knee was hurting badly. It was a quiet little place. They had books there that you could take if you left one...it was tempting, but I passed. Here's another curious thought: I hope to stay at Humbug Mountain State Park just six miles south of here. I don't know if I'll make the short trek up the mountain or not - very humbugish if I remember right from last time...unless of course they cut some of the trees down and made improvements so you could actually see something ha! Made it to Humbug Mountain and talked with a guy (Arnold?) from Denver headed to San Diego - jealous - and another chap, Colt headed to San Fran where he's been living. He's a fast rider - even hiked Humbug Mountain, six miles round trip. I would meet Arnold again several times until Northern Cali.

July 13 (Humbug Mountain to Harris Beach State Park, 52.65 miles) - I was in my granny gear a lot today - from Humbug to Harris Beach and Brookings there isn't much of anything really - except Gold Beach - 50ish miles today up and down hills and then up again. There's a mighty large one up out of Gold Beach. Samuel H. Boardman Scenic Corridor was in National Geographic as a not-to-miss drive. Too bad it was very, very cloudy and foggy today. I passed over 365 foot Thomas Creek Bridge-Oregon's highest bridge! I could barely see down it was so foggy. Couldn't ever seen the ocean which was kind of eery and cool. That fascinates me ya know?! Cloud cover over hills!

My left knee was killing me today...had to walk up some of those hills. Ouch! I met a guy at Harris Beach who told us of the Lost Coast past Eureka, Ferndale and Petrolia, and Howlman Road - some awesome Redwoods - He crisscrossed the Sierra Nevadas! Those are mountains man, not hills. He was eating hills for breakfast as Colt said. Hills, hills, hills, hills---Welcome to Brookings, 2 miles later, Welcome to Brookings, again. What the heck? Teasers. I met a French Canadian from Montreal who helped me charge my phone. He was a nice funny guy. He was headed North to Calgary then was gonna take on the Rockies. Ambition. Earlier we met another French man with two young boys who he was pushing to do like 70 mile days...talk about ambition. I think I need to find some adventurous friends and take the world by storm!!

July 14 (Harris Beach to Crescent City, California, 35.12 miles) - This morning was a slower one for me. I saw John Paul from Idaho and Arnold from Denver and a few others that I've encountered en route. I had a few matches and decided to start a little fire. The ground was a bit damp and I couldn't seem to light something properly so I just left them in the fire pit. I tried to burn some useless brochures as well as my Oregon coast map because I no longer needed it. As I was packing up to get ready to go, the smoke in my pit got bigger and on impulse, I picked up those smoky pieces and threw them in the garbage can on my way out of the park in a hurry so no one would see it was me who smoked up the garbage. Wow - the smoke was growing. I gotta get on the road. And so I did - on the way to California. I told myself I have to make it to the border quick. On my way past Brookings, a few sirens drove right by me heading north. What a coincidence! I wondered if that had anything to do with the smoke I started at Harris Beach. Nah, it couldn't have been. But then again, there was nothing that way except for the state park I had left. I was feeling a bit nervous, but all I could do was keep riding and hope none of the other cyclists approached me about it later on.

Whew...I made it to the Californian border. Written in blue chalk on the shoulder right at the border line, was "Turn around" with an arrow pointing back to Oregon with a smiley face. As I looked behind me it read, "Good job!" As I would quickly learn, most people who leave the Beaver state miss it very much. California is much more rude and wreckless - less polite, more rush and in a hurry. On the way through historic Smith River, I ate a wonderful crispy apple! Oh the wonders of cycling food. Biting into that apple was glorious! Smith River I have always thought was something out of Middle-earth. It took me back there.

In Crescent City, my first warmshowers host was waiting for me: Katie Berkowitz at St. Paul's Episcopal Church. She was a lovely woman with a warm heart for hospitality. She provided a wealth of knowledge and maps of the area and Redwoods nearby. She even offered the use of the kitchen, a couch to sleep on and blue berries! The shower felt amazing. I took one that night and even one in the morning. It felt good to get out of my cycling gear and rest my joints. Katie's only payment required was a hug. Shortly after I returned to the church from shopping at Grocery Outlet, another chap arrived on his bike. His name escapes me. It was something like Conner. He was a young 20-something from North Carolina who was cycling the coast to San Diego and if his bike doesn't break down, may ride home. He was inexperienced. This was his first tour. He was tired of school, so he decided to go on a bike trip. He was living on food stamps, had no tent but only a huge sleeping bag and tarp. The last night, he just rode from Bandon to Crescent City...all night long, he slept on the beach, didn't get much sleep, just nodded off at a picnic table at a rest area. He was quite the character, but an adventurous and determined one. I wish I could know more people like him. Needless to say he slept in the following morning. I let him sleep and took off the next morning. There was also a third guy who showed up about midnight that slept on the floor. I briefly said hi to him before leaving. Thanks Katie, for everything! Your gift of hospitality will be rewarded!

Pacific Coast, part 1: Port Angeles to Lincoln City

For years I have valued being outdoors. I have been in awe of the majestic avenues that enter in the midst of the weather. Creation never ceases to amaze me, a mere man. Therefore, I have entered in a season of life that revolves around being out-of-doors and more specifically finding adventures in the saddle of a bicycle...this is one such adventure.

Ever since about May 2012 I have been wanting to get back into bicycle touring and make it more of a lifestyle by riding more. My first step was to research, find and purchase a new bicycle suited for touring. After much debacle and digging through articles and reviews, I landed upon the Fuji Touring Bike. On May the 4th, 2013 I made my purchase at the Willamette Cyclery in Sherwood.

Throughout the following year I would ride, ride and ride my new bicycle to break it in and get used to its antics and mechanics. I would research and purchase much of my gear such as rear panniers, handlebar bag, bike computer, my hydro flask which proved to be invaluable, my hydro pack from osprey and countless other tidbits of kit that I deemed necessary. During this year I would also discuss in length my travel dreams with my then-current roommate. I knew that planning was often just as fun as the trip itself. I adore pouring over maps with a cup of Joe, highlighting my route and researching campsites and points of interest. I possess a large collection of maps and enjoy gazing at them, dreaming of adventure.

Shortly after my bicycle purchase, in the summer of 2013, I received a message of a good friend in Houston, Texas whom I lived with for 8 weeks two years prior. His message was an affirmative yes to accompany me on such an adventure. I had planned to travel solo unless I could find someone else to come with me. I had not counted on a SAG vehicle that my friend had offered. At this time I still wasn't sure which direction I was headed in. The Pacific Coast was only one trip among many that I thought of doing first. When my friend whom I often referred to as "Texas Jeff" to my roommate so he would know who I was talking about, told me, "I have never seen giant California Redwoods," it was settled. When I heard those words, I knew the Pacific Coast Highway would be my road. Every month, sometimes more frequently, we would talk on the phone and getting excited for this journey we were about to embark on. I even bought a pair of two-way radios for us to use to keep in contact with. I also purchased my very first smart phone a few weeks before the trip for travel reasons. I have put a title to this trip: Perfect Circles. A perfect circle refers to one full perfect motion of the wheel as it turns...one stroke, one perfect circle at a time. To begin with, I wanted another purpose for this trip rather than just doing it. Using my dream to start a camp, I thought it may be a great opportunity to fund raise. This led me to start this blog as well as a fund raising site. I am not new to fundraising, but it has been a while and I have not raised funds for a trip like this before. In respects to fundraising, the trip was a failure, but in respects to adventure it was a success. It wasn't because people did not know. They did. I was sure people knew because they even asked about how it was going. Well, in the end, I raised a total of $20 in one year. I guess I wasn't cut out for that sort of thing. Well, I may try something new the second go around. This "Perfect Circles" endeavor I hoped to be the first in a series of bicycle adventure trips to raise awareness/funds for the start of a Christian camp or bicycle adventure ministry program. I may have to recruit a marketing person. All is not lost. I press on towards the goal.

Anyhow, the months flew on by and the time to depart was drawing near. My excitement was growing. I feared some of what I would encounter, but my excitement for adventure outweighed any fear. Something unexpected happened next. Just 2 months before my scheduled departure date, I got  a call while perusing in our local REI. It was a devastated "Texas Jeff" calling to tell me he could no longer do the trip this summer. He and his wife were pulled to do something else. This hit me like a ton of bricks. After I composed myself, I quickly had to revamp my planning. For the past 7 months I had planned in light of having a support guy, but that was no longer a possibility. In the end, my Dad was able to drive me to Port Angeles, WA and was able to accompany me for the first week to get me tour-ready. A week before my departure date, I had a few friends over and my Dad barbecued. It was a little farewell get together. We ate, laughed, prayed and they gave me a few gifts which included some energy snacks and a compass which was symbolic of my lack of directional sense.

So this was my initial plan: Drive up to Port Angeles, Washington (I had originally planned Port Townsend as the starting point, but figured this would be more ideal), camp in Olympic before cycling towards the Pacific and straight down the coast all the way to the Mexican Border. Then, I would begin my return journey north through Joshua Tree, the Mojave Desert, Kings Canyon, Yosemite, Lake Tahoe, Crater Lake and back home via central Oregon. If you want to hear God laugh, tell Him your plans. He certainly laughed at me. This was quite the plan and I hadn't really left much buffer room. It was a good thing the Mojave Desert was no longer in my plans as you will see, because I no longer had support. The school year was extended by a few days due to snow days and the year came to a close. Two days later it was Father's Day, June 15:

June 15 (Drive from Salem to Port Angeles to Heart o' the Hills @ Olympic National Park & Hurricane Ridge, 00.00 miles) - After hugging my Mom good bye, my Dad and I were off on the road. The drive up was pretty boring I must admit. The drive from Salem to Washington is the most un-scenic of drives. That is until you turn off of I-5 and traverse your way to the Olympic Peninsula with views of the Puget Sound and Olympic Mountains. That is where the majestic happens. We quickly waved to my brother who was leading a trip up the staircase in the national park at the moment we were passing. After arriving, we found a bike shop (Sound Bikes and Kayaks) and entered to inquire of the local area and maybe pickup a few maps. That has always seemed to be my problem, as well as my Dads. We tend to acquire way too many maps and travel information. That is one good thing about having a support vehicle: you can store all your junk that you acquire in there, like maps, etc. When he left, I would have to be more careful and proactive about this fetish. It sure was cold up here. I just wasn't used to the cool breeze off of the sound, and later the ocean. We couldn't come all this way and not visit Hurricane Ridge. We made the 17-mile drive up the Hurricane to be even more amazed. The Hurricane never ceases to inspire awe. As we hiked, we were bundled up because it sure was cold. Temperatures dropped to below freezing. It was fun hiking along the snow banks. We saw a few Olympic marmots...or was it the same one? A deer or two even showed up. When we arrived to the car, wouldn't you know it? The battery was dead. My Dad, as the driver neglected to turn off the lights because he was used to automatic light shut off. We were lucky because there were a few other folks there who help us jump it. They had to interrupt their bird feeding and photography. That night, we set up camp in Heart o' the Hills campground, our 'ole favorite from growing up. Since it had been raining, all the wood was wet. We scrounged around for twigs and semi-dry wood. This is after all the only place in the United States that is a rain forest. We did get a fire going and we were so proud of ourselves. It wasn't until then we noticed the Domino's pizza box sitting on the picnic table. We ate pizza earlier and forgot about the box. We could've used that to start the fire dang it! But alas, we started a fire with wet wood. Boo-yah! Good night...big day tomorrow.

Happy Father's Day! Thanks Dad for being there.

June 16 (Port Angeles to Forks, 66.20 miles) -The next morning we packed up and drove to the port to view the water. This is where I would begin my odyssey. On the boardwalk we met a cute girl with a fully-loaded touring bike heading to San Francisco. We shared with her some of our knowledge of routes, etc. to get her off on the right track. I never did get her name so we later referred to her as "Blue Top," because she was wearing a bright blue tank top. When I was ready to go, I still had to install my brand new Terry Liberator saddle that I purchased...yesterday. Talk about a last minute buy! This saddle made all the difference though. I was in luck. I rode away from the car and followed a truck route to begin. This truck route ended up being all uphill. What a great start to a bike trip! I left my rain jacket in the car because my Dad suggested I leave it because it was warm and I'd just get too hot riding. Well, you know what's coming next...rain, and a lot of it. About an hour or so later I had to pull over in the down pour because my tires were making this awful rubbing sound and it made it difficult to brake. I tried to call Dad with my phone, but through the case and with the rain, I couldn't make it through. There wasn't much of a place to pull over and find shelter either. I played some with my tire and made it down the road further. When it dried up some I came to the entrance of this park and sat on a curb to finish fixing my bike. A hitchhiker approached and I got to talking with him some and before he left he wished me luck with my bike problems. I lost about an hour of riding time to fix my bike. When I finally got it so I could at least ride, Dad was for sure worried at this point. He was somewhere further down the road waiting for me as he would in increments at a time. We finally reunited and my bike was much better.

The Olympic Discovery Trail that would eventually run from Port Townsend to the somewhere on the coast caught my attention and I thought it best to try to stay off Hwy 101 and on the trail as much as possible. Lake Crescent was a tricky area. The hwy to the south was a 12-mile death trap for cyclists, so I decided to trust my luck and explore the discovery trail to the north. My Dad went south in the car and I to the north on my bike. My tent and sleeping bag were in the car to ease some of the weight of my load. Our plan was to use the radios to keep in touch. The wooded areas made it next to impossible to do so. I found the trail which was confusing at first and then became frustrated because the trail was more of a very rugged, very narrow mountain bike trail that I was unsure of so I made an executive decision to turn back. I was finally able to get through on the radio to Dad briefly to inform him of the situation. There was a button to push that would flash for an hour to let motorists know there are cyclists on the hwy hugging Lake Crescent. It was a beautiful lake. There were a few times that I would have to stop and hug the railing as to not get splattered by a passing semi. There was no shoulder and I quickly realized why folks advised against traveling this way. But believe it or not, I had in my mind that it was a lot worse. People always make things out to be worse than they really are. It did go by fast and I was on the other side quickly. During this first leg, I had been using a bicycling app called Strava that tracks my progress using GPS. It is an amazing feature, but it drains my battery more than anything so after these first few legs, I decided against it and kept my phone off or on airplane mode to preserve the battery life and only used it when I needed it.

My first destination was Forks, WA. It was a quaint little town and filming location of the Twilight films which I could quickly forget about. After all the delays, I pulled into Forks when the sun was going down and my Dad, who was not riding a bike was wondering where I was. He was waiting at an RV park in town. Well, I actually would've been there sooner, but my knees, both of them, were killing me and I was forced to walk some to give them a rest. But alas, I made it in one piece and it was a rough but good first day.

June 17 (Forks to Willaby Campground @ Quinault Lake, 68.16 miles) - Today ended up being slightly further. Truth be told, there isn't a lot to see on this route in Washington. I haven't even seen the coast yet and this is supposed to be the coast route. I think someone even warned me about this section of road as being quite boring. Boy, was he ever right! It did have it's moments though. This morning I met Mike who was emerging from a nearby park where I needed to stop to use the bathroom. He was headed to San Francisco and I shared with him my plans and told me about his blog. He took my picture and told me he may mention me. A few times down the road, Dad had thought he saw Mike, but it ended up not being him. I never did see him down the road. I trust he made it to San Fran okay. I am not the fastest rider. Most people tend to pass me up. But that's okay. It's all about the journey...smelling the smells and seeing the sights and burning the calories!

Finally, the coast! Ruby Beach and a few other waysides. Don't get excited, whereas I did reach the beach, the beach is a relative term. I didn't realize people could actually own the beach. What's great about Oregon is that they passed a bill long ago stating that all 365 miles of coast line be open and accessible to the public...not so in Washington and California. Although, Dad and I got our traditional road fuel...doughnuts! They were delicious! It was on this stretch of road that I noticed a spider hitching a ride from me as well as an inch worm that was very talkative. I had to strike up a conversation with it. You know, it gets quite lonely on the open road, especially on the Washington coast where there is little to no scenery to gaze upon. A humming bird also flew out of nowhere and gave me quite the startle.

On and on I rode through the boring rolling hills of Washington. This coastline sucks. When will I get to Oregon where they know the meaning of "coast?" Ah, lunchtime. We met at a beach overlook and sat down on some benches to eat a hearty lunch of chicken and potato salad with a cookie for dessert. Thanks Mom! At times on the road, I would ride 10 or so miles and see my Dad pulled over. I would take a break and eat whatever was in the car haha. Most of the time I felt as though he was over feeding me. I had to poop a lot. I do need to eat a lot to maintain energy levels and replenish those burned calories, but there's only so much I can eat man! But it was good! Thanks for your support Dad. Next up was the Quinault Indian Reservation. I thought I was through the boring parts. But then I come here. Not only do I travel away from the coast, I travel on this straight road for about 30 miles and see nothing but bumpy road and forest on my left and right. There were no services, almost no cars which was great, and no one here...nothing...it seemed endless. My phone died half way across the reservation and so did strava. Today finally came to a close and we made camp at Willaby Campground at the end of Quinault Lake. We were fighting mosquitoes all night. Well, not all night, we took a break to head to the lake and ate a dinner provided by my Mom yet again. This time it was delicious home-made chili! I was relieved the second day was over because my knees were killing me yet again. I adjusted my bike seat some to help, but they were in real need of some rest and relaxation.

June 18 (Quinault Lake to Cosmopolis & Artic RV Park, 47.19 miles + 3 in car to park) - This was the day that would change everything. The third day must be the day where you really feel the saddle sores. They sure did hurt. I needed time to break my bum in so to speak. Traveling south on the 101, my right ankle became sore as well as my left knee. On top of that, riding made my fingers become numb. I wasn't sure if it was just pressure on the handlebars, or what. But regardless, I had ailments and ailments that would not ease up. However, I pressed on because I had progress to make. The more I rode, the more my right ankle pestered me. I stopped a few times and looked at my ankle and tilted my head in wonder. I have not experienced this type of pain before. I kept riding. It hurt more. I paid it no never mind. Surely it would go away.

At long last I made it to the towns of Hoquiam and Aberdeen. The bridges there were terrible - ahhhh! Terrible infrastructure. There was one bridge into Aberdeen where I was walking my bike on the side which ended at a complete dead end stone wall. What the heck? I was forced to walk back and when I found a moment through the heavy traffic, I dashed to the other side and made it across the bridge where my Dad was waiting for me. These towns were confusing. I mentioned my ankle pain to my Dad and he told me to take it easy and keep an eye on it. Shortly there after we came to Cosmopolis and ate lunch at this small convenience store/diner. I had the Teriyaki Pork. While eating lunch in our booth, I put my leg up to rest my Achilles which hurt like the Dickens as they say. At this point I was getting worried. After lunch I rode some more until it hurt too much to ride. I dismounted and had to walk up this long hill. I only made it part way up out of Cosmopolis when I had to stop because it even hurt to walk. I deliberated giving Dad a call. I really did not want to because I wanted to do the whole thing under my own power. Back in town, he even offered to drive me to Artic where we found a nice bicycle-friendly RV Park. However, I declined because I was determined to complete this leg. Anyhow, I broke down and had no choice but to make the call. I found a little pull out to sit down and rest while I waited to be picked up. I was devastated. It's bringing tears to my eyes just recalling these events. I still had a long ways to go up the hill, so it's a good thing I stopped when I did. At Artic RV Park (which boasts "bicycles welcome"), the lady that ran the place was very nice and offered some ice for my ankle and knee. I sat down in camp, iced both my knee and ankle and my Dad and I talked about what's next...discussing my options. I only had one option...ride down the coast. Or at least that's what I thought. I went online and got a lot of advice about Achilles injuries, etc. Throughout this whole ordeal, I learned a lot more about Achilles and other bicycle related injuries than I have before. That night, I elevated my leg and got some much needed rest to see how it would feel in the morning.

June 19 (Drive - Artic to Kelly's Brighton Marina RV Park) - The next morning was a relaxing one. I knew I wasn't going to be doing much riding so we took it easy, dried out some of my gear and continued to ice my ankle and knee. I looked like a mess. Dad did not need to be back home until Friday so we had a few days time. We decided that the best thing for us to do is to drive down the coast so I could stay on schedule all the while icing my Achilles. It really felt like I strained it good...like it was stretching every time I moved it...the muscle was out of place. But I did not break anything and it was not permanently injured, or at least I hope it wasn't. So, we drove. It was a different aspect being in the car. I did not want to be in the car. I wanted to be on the saddle. But this was what I had to do. Plans were changed...

The drive from Artic south was hard. I wasn't supposed to be in a car, but on a bike. We did have a great time in Raymond seeing all the man made structures out of metal. Those were very cool and they were all over the town! We stopped by the Columbia River overlooking the Astoria bridge so I could take down my bike and test ride it. After a few rides, my Achilles still hurt too much to continue at present. When we were about to leave, guess what? "Blue Top," the cute gal from the port showed up on her bike and we said hello. We told her my predicament and she suggested to get an ankle brace. So, we gave some consideration into that and planned to look for a pharmacy because we had to pick up some pain killers anyway. After searching for a place to stay, googling, looking up warmshowers hosts, etc. we were getting frustrated, or rather my Dad was. But God was on our side and we happened upon Kelly's Brighton Marina RV Park for the night. The rain came so we hurried to set up the tent. The following morning we dried everything out while I continued to ice and rest my Achilles.

June 20 (Drive - Kelly's Brighton Marina to Devil's Lake State Park to Salem home) - After everything was dry or at least close to it, we continued to drive south so I could stay on schedule were I to continue on my bike. We made it to Devil's Lake State Park outside Lincoln City. We went to a side street for me to attempt to ride my bike to see how I feel. After a few go arounds, I came back to my Dad with pain in my ankle. It still hurt very badly. I had a decision to make and with that decision came tears. I broke down and wept because I knew, I knew in my heart that this was the best thing to do...go home. I felt terrible. I was sick to my stomach. The drive home was silent. How could it have come to this? I was in awe of what happened...and what will happen next I wondered...

June 22-27 - Camping at Rainbow Falls State Park with family.

June 28 - July 7 - Rest & Relaxation at home.

June Twenty-nine: I cannot believe it has only been two weeks. God has a funny way of changing the plans of man. Alas, man has no plans, but pieces to a broken puzzle.

Enter - the ACHILLES INHIBITION (I wrote this piece a few weeks after my initial start, so please forgive me for the repeated segments)

Two weeks ago from today, I was on the road to Port Angeles to begin what was going to be an amazing 3500 mile bicycle odyssey down the Pacific Coast and through the Mojave Desert and Sierra Nevada Mountains. However, things didn't go according to plan. After just three 60-70 mile days on the Olympic Peninsula traversing the National Park and Forest and fathoming at the lack of awesomeness in the Quinault Indian Reservation and after the terrible bridges of Hoaquim and Aberdeen I arrived slowly to Cosmopolis with not only some aches and pains, but an injury as well. Whereas my knees have been aching, I acquired a mysterious pain at the end of my heel and below my calf. At first I thought nothing of it because I have never had a pain there in my entire life. It was just an annoying pain that should vanish shortly. It did not. With three miles left to travel to my lodging at Artic RV Park (which boasts "bicycles welcome") I had no choice but to have my Dad (who was to be my support guy for the first 5 days or so to get me started) get me and drive me the rest of the way. That was Wednesday, June 18th. I wanted so much to push through and finish that day. It kills me not to complete something.

When we arrived, the host lady was nice and brought me some ice for my Achilles tendon and also my left knee.
I looked like a wreck. My spirits were not down though. I just thought I should rest and take some ibuprofen and see how it feels the next day. The next day I had to make it to Astoria whether I rode or or got a ride. One way or the other we were headed south. Meanwhile, I posted my predicament online and through the course of the evening and next day I received quite a lot of advice, some of it differing, some of it helpful. Needless to say, I know a lot more about Achilles injuries and bicycle-related injuries and remedies than I did before. The next day I made the decision to rest more and get a ride south. We drove through Raymond, a cool little town filled with hundreds of metal sculptures. Further south, past South Bend we came to Cape Disappointment, which I thought was fitting given the circumstances. After some brief sights of the ocean, we arrived to the Astoria bridge and stopped to view it and test my bike after resting all day. A female cyclist who I can only refer to as "Blue Top" because I never caught her name met us before the bridge to say hello. We first met her in Port Angeles. She was on her way to San Francisco at the time but now her plans had changed because she wanted to see the Columbia Gorge. Anyway, she exclaimed that she had a similar problem and just put on a compression brace that seemed to help a lot and recommended us to find a pharmacy and ask about braces. We took her up on that advice and several pharmacies later, finally purchased an ankle brace and some naproxen to help with the pain.

From Astoria, we continued south to 1) help me to stay on schedule and 2) find some place to camp that night. We arrived in Tillamook and stopped briefly at the Cheese Factory to sample some cheese all the while limping along. It hurt even to walk. The whole while I had my head against the window dreaming of riding. I was watching all the sights pass by, the sights I would've seen on my bike, the road markers and ocean views. I missed it. My Dad asked, "You miss it, don't you?" All I could do was nod. After a cloudy and rainy evening at a marina, the next day we finally arrived in Lincoln City and made our way to Devil's Lake State Park which I knew had hiker/biker sites. Thank goodness for the glorious Oregon Coast. It was here, on Friday, June 20th, the day before the summer solstice that my Dad was heading back home. I had a decision to make. I either was going to be left at the park to rest my leg for a few days and see how it felt...or head home with my Dad. It was a decision I did not want to make, a decision I did not see coming. But alas, it was here. We found some side streets to test out my bike once more. And after a pause and knowing I had to make a decision quickly, I told my Dad that it just hurts too much and I...I couldn't finish, I just broke down into tears. This was a dream journey that was 2-years in the making...and after just 3 days it's cut short? But why? What are you teaching me through this Lord? This is hard. This hurts.

It was mostly silent on the drive back to Salem. This trip was surreal but now it was surreal that I was returning. It still is. I had no other plans for the summer. I wasn't supposed to be back. I was supposed to be on an adventure and return with spectacular pictures, memories and experiences...not this, not like this...I felt defeated.

My sister's family was in town and I was excited to spend some time with my nieces and they were excited to see their uncle. Over the next week until Friday, June 27th we all went camping in Washington, only about 30 miles from where I was to ride my bike the week prior. Camping was a lot of fun even through the rain and cold. Fires and s'mores and games were a plenty. It was a much needed relaxation for my foot. It still hurt, but with every day it has been feeling better. Praise God! When I came home it was nice to spend some time in an actual bed, something I haven't experienced in 2 weeks. I had to let me roommate know what was going on because I would be in and out of my apartment. I couldn't exactly stay there full time because someone was renting my room. Yay money! I really had no desire to update or tell people I was back. I did, to those who inquired, but honestly I did not know what to say. It not only hurt physically, but emotionally as well.

It is now the penultimate day of June and I am still in the process of sorting through my things and drying out my tent and patching my sleeping pad, etc. So what shall I update? What shall I say? I should be in the Redwoods by now exploring large trees. I was asked what my plans are for the Fourth of July. Well, I have none. I was to be in San Francisco by then. Well, here's the deal. I still have to get back on my bike and go on a few rides with my panniers to see how my legs feel. I no longer feel the need to go to the doctor because my heel is noticeably getting better. It is not perfect. I still can feel it here and there, but the stretching of it is diminished and I may need some more rest.

So, with some packing issues and biking issues, I will also be looking at a map and try to figure out if I can do a modified bicycle adventure. Not sure where that entails...I could head from here to San Francisco and cut across to Yosemite and Tahoe and back up. I could cycle further south and catch a bus up given time or meet someone mid way to drive up. I don't know. It could be as early as July 1st, or it could be a few weeks down the road. I do not know exactly where or when yet, but I do know that God has me in His plans. I do not know what the future holds, but I know who holds the future and me in His arms. Thanks for praying and keeping invested...my cycling days are far from over and adventure is just waiting...it waits until I am ready...my circles are not perfect yet...but I trust they soon will be...Perfect Circles now and forever...all is not lost. Pray, seek, ride, and find your own adventure this summer...

In Retrospect - As hard as it was to cut my ride short due to my Achilles injury, I now look back on it as a blessing in disguise. I went home, camped with my family and rested and relaxed and took care of myself until I made the decision to begin again on July 8th in Lincoln City where I left off. I wasn't going to be able to do the entire trip down and up so I first had a thought of riding south to San Francisco, then cut over to Yosemite and Tahoe to make for a shorter loop. As I will mention later, when I made it to San Fran, I made the decision to ride the entire coast to Mexico and figure out how to get home later. This was a blessing in disguise because I'm not sure if I would've made it to San Fran by Independence Day anyway without pushing it really hard. Also, I planned the trip with really not much buffer and without a support guy to accompany me, the return trip would be killer. Therefore, in retrospect my tears had turned into small splashes of blessings. God is always up to something and He only shares it with us when we are ready...

Another trip, another year

As the beginning of a new year, I thought it appropriate to explain my thoughts about the next Perfect Circles journey. Last summer 2014, I had a fabulous trek down the Pacific Coast to Mexico. Although I hit some road blocks along the way that prevented my plans being fully enacted, the trip was a success and I made it to the border and back home again. Now that I have been home this Fall, adjusting to a new job environment, dealing with housing issues and aligning myself with the crazy world around me, I am once again restless.

Thoughts of another bicycle odyssey for this next summer 2015 have been whirling in my mind all the while. At the start, I wasn't certain where I wished to ride next. I've had thoughts and ideas: Grand British Columbia loop...that would have to wait until I did more research and had a few more tours under my belt. Coast to Coast...not ready to do this yet due to time constraint and travel logistics to and from. Iceland...I know right? Iceland? Yes, someday I would like to cycle Iceland's Route 1 which circles the Island. However, that trip is a bit expensive and would require more research. Atlantic Coast...travel logistics and cost. So, where did that leave me? Where do I cycle to?

Monument Valley

That's right. As a huge fan of western movies, I think it would be amazing to be riding through the picturesque valley that so many westerns have been filmed. I love the simplicity and the openness and the beauty of the frontier. So, as I mount my mechanical horse, Monument Valley will be my destination. And as I was planning my route, I decided to head south to Lassen Volcanic National Park and Lake Tahoe since I missed that on my last trip. From there I will brave the heat and desolation of the Great Basin desert as I check the 30th state of my list and will meander my way through Utah, visiting Zion National Park before I arrive in Monument Valley. Since I will be close, I hope to visit Four Corners and cross the Colorado border to visit Mesa Verde National Park. From there, I cross back into Utah to Moab/Arches National Park and make my way north to Salt Lake City, cross Idaho and back home through Eastern Oregon...making it about a 2700 mile journey. Nine weeks, riding about 50 miles a day allowing one rest day per week.

Sound doable? Jealous? Want to join me?

Anyhow, with anything, plans change. But as of January 1, 2015, this is the plan. It will be hot and dry and have many remote stretches. Challenging? Yes. But so was the Pacific Coast. This will be a different type of challenge I believe. But seriously, if you want to join, be my guest.

There you have it.