September 16, 2015 – Rain, 60 degrees

Miles Today: 18

Miles to Date: 6,987

States to Date: 24

I woke to rain, a light spattering on my roof that grew in intensity throughout the morning. I had planned to go to Trinidad – 70 miles along the coast. But nothing gelled. I didn’t get a warmshowers host or other accommodation. Besides, my host told me the redwoods three miles away in Jedediah Smith State Park were as magnificent as any. I didn’t realize that Redwoods National Park is actually a series of parks, and the redwoods north of Crescent City are as grand as any. So, instead of enduring a wet cycling day, I spent the morning enjoying my cozy cabin and pedaled out after noon, when the showers turned to a trickle.

Seeing redwood trees was one of a handful of natural sites I wanted to encounter on my trip. The tallest living things on earth do not disappoint. They are immense and majestic. I snapped picture after picture in vain; it’s impossible to capture their character in a frame. I finally added my bicycle just to get some scale. I was also amazed by the ones that had fallen over. They are so big and so close, it’s hard to believe they find a place to lie flat, but they do.

I rode into Crescent City proper, which is an interesting town in an abstract way. It gets more tsunamis than any city on the west Coast; the entire downtown was wiped out in 1964. Given the quality of architecture in the 1960’, what was built in its place is pretty banal. What is interesting is the system of jetties they’ve built to protect the harbor and their advance warning system.

Although the forecast called for more rain, the skies brightened, so I went out to the jetties and toured town before finding a nice motel for the night. There are few tourists here mid-week with bad weather, so I got a room with a water view. Pretty classy for me.

September 15, 2015 – Overcast, 60 degrees

Miles Today: 65

Miles to Date: 6,969

States to Date: 24 

California! I rolled over the line in late afternoon and entered The Golden State – home to one in nine Americans, each of whom is increasingly thirsty. As I entered, fires raged in the State after a long, dry summer. But I brought with me the forecast of rain, a forecast heralded like a newborn over the past few days. If the word California means anything, it means hope. It’s where we head when we need a fresh start. Everyone here is hoping these rains will do some good, to extinguish fires in the short-term and quench thirst in the long.

Paul Hempel and Bruce Newman sent me off from Gold Beach with a huge breakfast. The ride along the Oregon coast was beautiful, though the wind turned into my face as the weather shifted. Much of the Oregon coast is preserved, with well-marked viewpoints along the way. I stopped to enjoy many of the diversions.

I took a break at the Brookings Library and continued on to California. I crossed the border and passed the requisite agricultural station. Immediately, there was much more development. More oceanfront houses, more farms, more places stacked on the hills. I turned off US 101 just beyond Smith River, passed the forbidding Pelican Bay Prison, and arrived at my warmshowers hosts.

Hope and Dave live on a two-acre orchard with a small house, shed building, and cottage out back. Dave had just finished installing batt insulation from the outside of the west wall. He asked me to help hold a 4×8 sheet of plywood at the corner. I suggested that the insulation would be ruined if the rain forecast proved true, so we spent an hour getting all the sheathing in place. It felt good to work for my supper of homegrown squash soup and thick, fresh bread. The simplest and most satisfying meal of my trip, topped it off with dark chocolate cocoanut patties for dessert.

After dinner I tucked into the back cottage, two charming rustic rooms with a comfy bed.

September 14, 2015 – Overcast, 60 degrees

Miles Today: 76

Miles to Date: 6,904

States to Date: 23

The pattern of clouds and sun on the West Coast is opposite what we usually get back East. At home our mornings are often sunny, but once the clouds arrive, they stay. Here, mornings are often cloudy but can evaporate to bright sun later in the day. Today was cloudy from the start and stayed that way until late afternoon. Then the sun came out for a gorgeous sunset and a night sky was full of stars. It was overcast the entire time I cycled; the first time that I kept my windbreaker on all day.

I took the coast road out of Coos Bay through Charleston, a picturesque fishing village that appreciates the fourth food group.

I climbed Seven Devil’s Road, so named because it has seven steep climbs, marked on the pavement for cyclists. Between climb five and six the road stays high above the trees for several miles. Even on a cloudy day, the view west reveals rows of distant mountains.

Between Bandon and Port Orford, US 101 tucks inland and passes all variety of vacation kitsch. I was intrigued by all of the chainsaw wood carving places and stopped at Something Awesome, which had some of the best supersize wood sculptures. Not sure who buys them or where they get displayed, but they sure are fun.

After a terrific lunch break at TJ’s Cafe in Port Orford I couldn’t help but climb the sign and arrow painted on the road. At the top of the hill – bam – the ocean that I had not seen for a few hours spread out before me.

The last fifteen miles along the coast and around the base of Humbug Mountain were gorgeous. The lowering sun dazzled the water. I overshot the turnoff to my friend Paul Hempel’s house, but hardly minded because the view of Humbug coming back north was incredible.

Turns out, Paul and his husband Bruce’s house is on a hill with deadeye views of Humbug, so I got the see the sun play off the mountain and the sea for several twilight hours. Bruce and Paul have a fascinating house and shop with gardens and pools. Paul retired recently and has taken to being a gentlemen farmer very well.

Bruce is a renowned restorer of player pianos and orchestrions. If you don’t know what that is, neither did I, but hearing a technical device play six or eight different instruments is a delight.

September 12, 2015 – Sun, 75 degrees

Miles Today: 78

Miles to Date: 6,773

States to Date: 23

 Any Saturday that begins with coffee on Kurt’s sunny deck bodes well. It was difficult to leave such a serene place and such a delightful man, but I had a breakfast date with my most faithful reader, Sherri McCutchen. Sherri invited her son Zander Chanin to join us at Brail’s A Eugene institution. The food was good, the conversation even better.

I didn’t get on the road until eleven. The day was fair, the breeze light, the scenery lovely. I stopped at a car show in Crow. My favorites were a pair of truly classic 1953 Chevy Bel Airs, but nobaody asks a guy in bike shorts his opinion of cars.

I took a wrong turn and went three miles down a gorgeous valley before I realized my error. Back on track, I headed west, enjoyed ten miles of excellent riding without encountering any other vehicles, and then reached the huge Noti sawmill. I took a break at the Noti Market and met Tom a sawyer who was keen on my journey.

I joined Highway 126 West, which turned out to be a much better road than I had been warned. In late afternoon I stopped at a country park and met a couple I had contacted as potential warmshowers hosts. They were heading east (which is why they could not accommodate me) but we had a nice visit. One more climb to the tunnel, which is narrow but the flashing bicycle light warned any cars or trucks about me. Traffic was so light that no one even approached me in the tunnel.

On the far side the air was salty, the breeze brisk. After a long down slide, the highway paralleled Siuslaw River for twelve miles to Florence. There was a staunch headwind, but I moved strong, motivated to arrive before dark.

I stayed in a fine motel but the Internet didn’t work and in Indian-style the proprietors chose to blame my computer rather than their system. I went elsewhere, my computer found Internet just fine, and I got to see a bit of Florence at night, thought I still haven’t been to that famous Florence over in Italy.

September 11, 2015 – Sun, 85 degrees

Miles Today: 10

Miles to Date: 6,695

States to Date: 23

Today I explored the University of Oregon and Eugene. I had morning meetings to discuss tomorrow with the Admissions and International Students office, ate a superb schwarma at Caspian, decided to become an undergraduate again to study Volcanology, and got a personal tour through the art museum with Associate Director Kurt Neugebauer.

Kurt hosted me for the evening. He invited three other friends for a dinner of local delicacies (including smoked tuna and prawns), which we capped off by going out for dessert at Sweet Life, a decadent and popular dessert bar. Then we drove up to Skinner’s Butte to see Eugene in its nighttime glory.

Like many college towns, Eugene is full of interesting people.  Unlike many college towns, it doesn’t have a particularly inviting physical form. Apparently the 1960’s and 1970’s were unkind to Eugene. First, they tore down much of the city center and what remains is a hodgepodge.  Then, they built blocks and blocks of squat ranch houses, which spreads the city out. More recent hillside houses have great distant views. But at a cycling level, Eugene is not a pretty place. However, at night, on a hill overlooking lights with a bunch of nice people after a yummy dessert, those shortcomings disappear.

September 10, 2015 – Sun, 85 degrees

Miles Today: 84

Miles to Date: 6,685

States to Date: 23

The next time I am having a tough day I’ll try to remember this one – a perfect day of cycling in every way.

My warmshowers hosts filled me with a great breakfast and hot coffee. The morning was cool and clear. Dave rode me out of Salem and along River Road for 12 miles to Buena Vista. There was so little traffic we rode side by side and talked most of the way. He gave me a detailed direction sheet for the best route to Eugene. I only got turned around when I detoured to explore Corvallis, which has the most unusual corner sculptures of any city I’ve visited. I found my way back easily and enjoyed the OSU experimental farms along Peoria Road. I took a roadside lunch break in the shade of giant oaks beside a creek.

At Harrisburg I stopped for an ice cream. Jennifer makes the largest single scoop cones on earth. I snapped a quick pic of the astonishing pile of sea salt caramel and then ate it all up before it melted.

My last twenty miles were the fastest of my trip. Fueled by ice cream and pushed by tailwinds, Eugene came at me before I expected. Almost two hundred years ago Pioneers weathered all sorts of torment to cross the plains and mountains to reach this valley. I got here with less trauma, but also appreciate the Willamette Valley’s bountiful rewards.

I spent my first evening in Eugene with my good friend Kirk, who’s visited us in Cambridge several times, along with his longtime friend Kurt. Kirk is a noteworthy cook whose house has a deck with sunset views. I know this from years of Facebook posts and pictures. It seemed a fantastic dream to be on the deck in person, enjoy a sumptuous meal, and share stories.

September 9, 2015 – Sun, 75 degrees

Miles Today: 56

Miles to Date: 6,601

States to Date: 23

I rode out of Portland through grey skies. Stopped at Winco for yogurt and bagels. Got extra for the homeless folks hanging around. Homeless are all over Portland. Jittery guys who can hardly hold on to their cigarette. Massive woman wrapped in shawls spread out on the sidewalk like muffin tops. I acknowledge them, I try to respect them, but they jar my sensibilities. Perhaps that‘s better than being numb to them. Locals tell me that homeless come here because the climate is mild, the services good, and neighbors are kind. It probably is better to be homeless in Portland than in other places. But being homeless can’t be better than having a safe, supportive home.

I rolled through Crystal Springs and watched well-scrubbed children in khakis eat breakfast in chandeliered dining rooms before school. I pedaled through Clackamas and passed bands of Mexican American kids with T-shits pulled over tortilla bellies walking to school. In Gladstone three middle schoolboys buzzed by me on their skateboards. A fourth, with long blonde hair undeniably cool, sauntered along at his own pace. I saw my first gold leaves. The calendar pages register two more weeks of summer. But it is fall.

Outside of Oregon City, terminus of the Oregon Trail and the state’s first town, I stopped to study Willamette Falls, a complex array of waterfall, power plant and aging industry. After a few more miles of narrow road, the valley spread out into wide fields. Woodburn had so many taquerias and bakeries I just had to stop and eat a few sweet buns.

I passed the 45^th parallel, halfway between the equator and the North Pole. I definitely felt warmer on the far side of the sign.

I reached Salem in early afternoon and enjoyed touring the Capitol – a 1930’s Deco extravaganza. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers could have filmed a movie there.

I stopped downtown to get my third set of bike lights. I’ve only used lights a few times on my trip, but they keep getting stolen. Instead of buying difficult to remove ones – which get removed anyway – I bought ones that are simple to attach. I plan to keep them in my bags and only attach when needed. Let’s see if that strategy works.

At a street corner I saw a young couple in an ugly fight – loud profanity, pushing, spitting. I witnessed similar fights in St. Helens, on Portland streets, even within the Portland Library. There are so many young people who only know want and disappointment, who can only act from rage. They likely exist everywhere, but Oregon’s permissive attitude toward street people allows them to be more public. Regardless, such needless human suffering brings me down. We have enough for everyone to get his or her share. Why are we so cruel to each other?

My warmshowers hosts, Sharon and Dave, elevated my spirits with good food, good beer and great conversation. They are foster parents for the local shelter and had four of the cutest little kittens scampering over everything.

September 8, 2015 – Sun, 75 degrees

Miles Today: 13

Miles to Date: 6,545

States to Date: 23

Indian summer descended on Portland. I rode off the hillside and toured the city. Spent some time in a trendy coffee shop. Spent other time in the Public Library. It has the most beautiful inscribed black marble stairs I’ve ever seen.

Is this the kind of bumper sticker paradox that is making Hillary loose steam?

In the afternoon I visited The Circus Project, a group that introduces homeless youth to circus training. Then I rode along the waterfront to my warmshowers hosts, a cooperative at Reed College. We had a delicious vegan meal, talked about thought provoking ideas, and listened to great music. It was all fun – even the 10 p.m. campus wide fire drill for which he had to evacuate to a nearby field.

September 7, 2015 – Cloudy, 65 degrees

Miles Today: 25

Miles to Date: 6,532

States to Date: 23

 I started my day by pedaling the far reaches of Northwest Portland to Kelly Point Park, where the Willamette meets the Columbia. My route took me all through St. John’s, which has a wonderful collection of domestic architecture from the 1920’s through the 1960’s. The more recent stuff – not so good. The cloudy skies evaporated, the sun came out, and people flooded the streets. Portland is like Boston in that no own takes sunshine for granted.

I returned to the city and spent the afternoon getting social media tips from blogging entrepreneur Mike Riscica. In case I didn’t have enough exercise, I had a steep, steep climb up the hills to get to my warmshowers host high above the city. I spent the evening in spirited discussion with a group of 50-somthings and their 20-something children about tomorrow.