Ok, so I may have been a bit harsh with Washington. Perhaps I was still tired from my grueling first 3 days, legs getting used to strenuous exercise (the last time I rode a bike prior to this journey was October 2008), the lack of quaint towns but I do realize that I cut out a large portion of the coastal route due to the fact that I’m not on a motorized vehicle.
Anyway, a massive change occurred to the landscape as I proceeded south. The forests gave way to massive expanses of marshy lands as well as prairie fields containing dairy cows. The road had fewer hills against me however there were more cars and motorcyclists (probably the best way to travel these roads).
I was elated, perhaps it was the 18-degree cloudless day (I could finally wear shorts), the lessening pain I felt in my legs, or that I finally encountered another cyclist. He was heading the opposite way and going slightly up-hill. I was also making good time so I figured I could reach Oregon.
I stopped in Chinook (just before Astoria) for lunch and an espresso (what? Sono italiano). The woman at the trading post asked me about my trip. Noting that I was traveling alone, she also asked me if I had met any crazies on the road. “You’re fine on the coast, it’s the interior folk who can be strange”. That’s when I decided not to apologize for yesterday’s comments.
To get to Oregon I had to cross the Columbia River, which is fucking massive. Lewis and Clark had balls of steel to challenge such a turbulent river even though I suspect their native guides were really the ones you had to watch out for in a bar room brawl. I can’t remember how long it took me to ride across that infernal bridge, however 2 things amazed me: I finally saw Mt St Helens in the distance, the North West’s answer to Mt Fuji, and the seagulls cleverly utilizing the thermals off the bridge. These bastards were flying at my level, careening towards me without as much as a single wing beat.
Astoria was the sort of town I had imagined it to be: quaint, with many original buildings. I almost stayed in a motel there so that I could explore it at night. I decided to proceed towards Fort Stevens Park.
They charged me $4 dollars entrance fee. I had the entire hiker/biker lot to myself and the showers were free, private, clean, and with endless hot water! You know what else elates me? The entire Oregon coast has plenty more State parks, just like this one.
Wildlife count: more eagles (I should stop counting them), 1 very dead possum
Anyway, a massive change occurred to the landscape as I proceeded south. The forests gave way to massive expanses of marshy lands as well as prairie fields containing dairy cows. The road had fewer hills against me however there were more cars and motorcyclists (probably the best way to travel these roads).
I was elated, perhaps it was the 18-degree cloudless day (I could finally wear shorts), the lessening pain I felt in my legs, or that I finally encountered another cyclist. He was heading the opposite way and going slightly up-hill. I was also making good time so I figured I could reach Oregon.
I stopped in Chinook (just before Astoria) for lunch and an espresso (what? Sono italiano). The woman at the trading post asked me about my trip. Noting that I was traveling alone, she also asked me if I had met any crazies on the road. “You’re fine on the coast, it’s the interior folk who can be strange”. That’s when I decided not to apologize for yesterday’s comments.
To get to Oregon I had to cross the Columbia River, which is fucking massive. Lewis and Clark had balls of steel to challenge such a turbulent river even though I suspect their native guides were really the ones you had to watch out for in a bar room brawl. I can’t remember how long it took me to ride across that infernal bridge, however 2 things amazed me: I finally saw Mt St Helens in the distance, the North West’s answer to Mt Fuji, and the seagulls cleverly utilizing the thermals off the bridge. These bastards were flying at my level, careening towards me without as much as a single wing beat.
Astoria was the sort of town I had imagined it to be: quaint, with many original buildings. I almost stayed in a motel there so that I could explore it at night. I decided to proceed towards Fort Stevens Park.
They charged me $4 dollars entrance fee. I had the entire hiker/biker lot to myself and the showers were free, private, clean, and with endless hot water! You know what else elates me? The entire Oregon coast has plenty more State parks, just like this one.
Wildlife count: more eagles (I should stop counting them), 1 very dead possum
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