March 24th, 2010

Brookings, 8 miles from the California border. Doubt I'd make it this far just a few hours ago. Wind has been fierce from the south today - averaging 10 km/h.

Morning started beautifully, rising over the abandoned harbor. Another rain cloud had developed inside my tent, so I left it to dry as I packed and made breakfast. The climb was too steep riding out - pushed my way to the top and onto the 101. A small road called Cedar Valley Road leads inland, through a lush quiet car free valley. It was gonna be a beautiful day. Until I turned the corner leaving the basin and a bike stopping gale hit me straight on. The invisible force reduced me to a dry leaf getting blown off a tree. How disillusioning wind can be. I stopped for an early lunch debating my options. Rain had just started falling by the time I reached Brooking. Two cyclists passed going the opposite direction, enjoying the fruit of a good tail wind. I found a laundromat to wash my badly needed clothes, internet and a warm bed.

March 23rd, 2010

The day was cut short before I even got half way. Found a spot not marked on any map, and hardly noticeable from the road. Must have been an old harbor, squeezed in between two hills right on the ocean, but now all buildings were gone and only dirt paths indicated there ever had been activity. I was running low on water and decided I only would stay if there was fresh water to be found. There was - in abundance coming off the surrounding cliffs - so I set camp and explored. Found a huge cave, cutting underneath one of the hills, connection to the ocean on the opposite side. From here huge swells came roaring underneath and slamming against the wall of the cave. This would be a good place to photograph at night.

Sitting on the beach waiting for moonlight to take over, a man was fishing and sun glaring. My new bald scalp got a red tan and the man caught an ancient looking fish.

March 22nd, 2010

The sun was out on a fluf cloudy background. Temperatures seemed low and being hairless dosent help the cause. Lisitning to Santo and Jonny leaving to I had to reconsider and perhaps spend a few days here. Everything becomes magical with that soundtrack. But a tight budget and somewhat timeline keept me moving. Passed Denmark a nontown consisting of two houses, a closed espresso shop and a pickup. Took the obligatory pictures, sent thoughts back home and continued. Set camp at Cape Blanco state park - the most western tip of continental USA. Tiredness overcame me on a cliffi slope overlooking the ocean, waiting for sundown. I woke just as it sunk behind a cloud and further down the drain of the horizon. The moon is ascending these days and the light has become strong enough to navigate by during the night. The beach changes form and soul in the pale light. Hours passed while photographing a large rock/island growing out of the sand. I climbed back up the side of the cliff while the lighthouse silently spun.

March 21st, 2010

The sound of a small drizzle always sounds like a monsoon from inside the tent. Knowing this doesn't make it any easier getting up and getting out to face reality. Reality on this sunday morning was wet. Rain faded as I packed my things and left the site. Further down the road was an area of the dunes reserved for hikers, not allowing motorized vehicles. I went for a short walk on the dunes, wishing the sun was shining and I was 5 years old. The sand dunes are so big and there is so much of them. I'll return one day and maybe bring a 5 year old of my own. North Bend looks big on the map. This is alway exciting. But North Bend isn't. Don't want to sound negative but that must be one of the saddest places in Oregon (having only seen a fraction of this beautiful state). It goes on forever, few smiles and grey road after grey road, eventually crossing a river spilling into the next town. Here they serve tuna sandwiches and dorito chips. I enjoyed both against the wall by the vending machine. Seven Devils Road is the one to follow. Someone has written "don't you just love it?" on the road climbing. At a certain point of this winding hilly road it splits in two - the paved one on the left and the original dirt road on the right. Contemplating this I decide on the dirt, thinking it would be a test before the serious ones down south. All was good going down - but I was close to defeat climbing out again. Dirt and mud makes the tires skid on steep grades. Something that must be addressed.

I stayed at the motel across from Rays Food market in Bandon. Shaved my head while the health care bill was passed on msnbc. Congratulations.

March 20th, 2010

how silly of me to think the chainsaw was actually a chainsaw. As I closed in on the Oregon dunes yesterday I noticed a rise in monster RV's hauling everything from quads (small 1 person pit bull's on gas) to full size SUV's. As it happened to be my tent was less then a mile from a nest of pickups and sand tires tearing up the dunes day and night. Going to see for myself, I took my bike and rode through their camp - feeling like a stranger in some western bangbangtown I opened the saloon door. Engines went silent all eyes on the wimp pushing the bicycle. At a small food stand they served club sandwiches. I had one and a beer. Two guys at the opposite table asked what I was doing - responding, they looked like I spoke chinese. Night fell and I ventured out again this time to see what it looked like in the dark, the perfect dunes lit up by the fast passing bugs sounding like chainsaws. They lighthouse rotated like a giant crystal in the night.

March 19th, 2010

Woke rested on the bench of the shelter. Fearing the turning up of early tourists I rose packed my things that were spread out like I owned the place and acted casual. The ride up last night was epic and seemed to have no end but only more turns. Descending this morning was over before I knew it had begun - 4 min 20 sec - top speed 54 km/h. Joy. Took liberty of the visitor center restroom - chatted to a mexican worker redoing the wall and checked out the surrounding trails before continuing south along the 101. I passed the most alluring part of the coast thus far today - from Cape Perpetua to Heceta Head. Getting lost in thoughts seem to becoming more frequent now - I suppose getting used to the ups and downs does this. I thought of a little piece of ice I took from the North Pole, which is stored in a freezer Copenhagen. I thought of the junk lying in the ditch - lottery tickets and power drinks - beer bottles and video tape tape. And then the sign for the Sea-lion Cape appeared. Overpowered by the child within I pulled over unable to put up a fight knowing it would be a disappointment. And it was. A tourist trap that tricks men, women and children into a deep dark cave to look at sea-lions relaxing through a wire mesh only to go back up and realize they were the same ones they saw earlier today on the beach only that didn't cost $12... But they had nice post cards and I bought one for each of my nephews and nieces.

I'm now at Umpqua light house state park. Plan is to rest here tomorrow. Sound of chainsaw not far away. At this point I'm closer to California then Washington. Progress.

March 18th, 2010

wow this new tent setting thing is a challenge. The ventilation is so bad in it that to prevent suffocation I must leave the front fully open. This is nice when your on a beach looking at stars while falling asleep, but not good when you wake in the morning realizing that opening was toward the ocean and the spray coming off the sea has taken refuge inside your home. I'm moved to get my old tent back but will give this one a month and see how I feel.

The early morning bitterness quickly dissolved as the sun rose to a clear day with wind from the north. Seals were on the beach moving around as I packed and got on my way.

Stopped and had the best halibut ever in a small town.

Again the wind helped keep me energized, but by the time I got to resting there was no where to camp. A park warden told me that at the top of a place called Cape Perpetua there was a shelter where no one would bother me if I stayed - the catch being a 2.5 mile HIGH grade climb to the top. It took about 45 min to reach the pleatau. From here the view extends to the curb of the earth. I'll sleep in the old stone shelter. A night like this makes it all worth while.

March 17th, 2010

Great day of riding - much appreciation for the fellow camper who brought me the plate of pasta yesterday. Have had an overflow of energy and kept all levels up. The constant tailwind has certainly played a big role as well.

At the bottom of the notorious hill sat Greg - the tourer I'd run into a few weeks back. He look sweaty and tired and not ready for the big climb. I continued and found that my imagination far exceeded the actuality of how steep this hill was. At the top was the trail head leading to the real Cape Lookout. High above the ocean and sun shining I badly hid my bike behind a sign saying "secure your valuables" and went on a hike. It was about an hour to the point of the cape overlooking the Pacific.

I rode on south, before finally reaching Lincoln City at sunset and set camp on the beach.

March 16th, 2010

Drama in the weather. The remainders of the passing rain is still dripping from the trees above, spilling onto my shelter - for it's nothing more then this. The fabric is so thin, and as the whole tent stands using only one pole the rain and hard wind leaves the sides sagging like too big a dress on too small a body.

I've made it to Cape Lookout and considered moving further, but my left knee convinced me to stay. This suits me well as tomorrow will have the steepest climb on the whole Oregon coast. Most of the day has been spent in rain and heavy winds - but the sun peaked through at the end. All in all a good day.

March 15th, 2010

It got late last night before I'd sorted through the items I would be shipping home. I missed the early bus leading toward Portland. As there are only two running a day this put me in a bit of a squeeze to get everything done and still catch the returning one - if I missed this one I be stuck in some suburb called Beaverton - not an option. I brought by bike with me as to get around easier. The company who sells this mythical status ultralight tent runs the operation out of a garage on a quiet street. They were kind people and I got to meet the creator - Ron "Fallingwater" Moak. With too much chatting and difficulty finding my way around I missed the last bus. As Beaverton was not an option I began riding. Got about 40 km toward the coast before the sun set. Pulled over and hitched - third pickup-truck and I had a ride and my new home weighing less then a kilogram!

March 14th, 2010

Another day of short distance. Rode to Tillamook, a sleepy town junction of the road leading to Portland and further along the coast. Here is one supermarket, a strange looking cafe, reminding me of someones living room, a mexican restaurant and a funny smell.

As weight has been a constant battle I've decide to rid myself of certain items - amongst these my beloved tent for another weighing a quarter of the origional. This I'll go to pick up tomorrow.

March 13th, 2010

I've spent two nights in the home of Lindsey and her family. Lindsey has written a remarkable book on her time spent as a relief worker in New Orleans - an inspiring language and motivation. This morning she took me to Astoria for breakfast before my continuation south. It was a short day of riding, but the hills of the Oregon coast promise enough climbs to last a lifetime. Rain's been coming off the ocean, but missed me today.

March 12th, 2010

Running round town trying to get my list of things to do, done, before returning to the coast. Bus left at 6:20pm - great to be onboard and going back. I feel my work is going in the right direction and I want to keep the momentum. It's been good visiting Portland, but what I need now is not city life - this I'm sure of.

scans