Of bike gossip, group dynamics and giant trees

Hello,
I'm in Arcata, California. Yay California! Insert favorite song about California here, probably something by the Beach Boys...or Tupac.

We have had a wonderful bike ride since the rain stoppage. The weather was gorgeous, scenery spectacular and we've met a ton of other cyclists. My favorites are Rita and Jan (I don't know how to spell it, his name is pronounced "Yawn"). They biked from their home in Edmonton, Alberta across to the coast and now are heading down to Mexico...with their two year old daughter Karina. They pulled up to me when we were out on the road and it took me about three minutes before I realized that the trailer behind Jan had a little person sitting in it looking up at me. Karina was wonderful to play with at the campground and I marvelled at her unique toddler vocabulary, like when it got dark she looked up to the sky and said, "The big dipper." At the same campground we ran in to George who is in his 60's and this is his second time to bike across the south up the east coast across the middle, down the west coast and back home to Texas. The best part about talking to other cyclists is talking with them about other cyclists. Now, I'm not really one for gossip in my normal life, but there's something fun on the bike trip when you realize that the bicyclist you ran into, met other cyclists that we met earlier. For instance, Jan, Rita, and George all had stories about Trevor and Adria, two Oregon tourers we camped with a week ago, who fought the entire morning in the campground and had 3 times as much gear (like 2 chairs and an entire pantry of food staples).

One of the highlights of this trip so far was biking into the redwoods. The bike route goes through a scenic byway that ends in a great campground and the whole thing is in the middle of an old growth redwood forest. They totally took my breath away. We camped in that state park and the next morning as I was walking to brush my teeth, there, through a five foot tall mist that covered this gigantic field, stood a huge male elk. He was just standing there and then I noticed about 7 other elks grazing around him. I stood there for 15 minutes just watching them, out of equal amounts of awe and fear (it's rutting season and all of the park rangers warned us heavily about not going near any elk).

I haven't written much about how our little group of four are getting along. We get along fine until we need to make a decision. This is a typical conversation with the four of us trying to decide what to do for dinner. All parts are interchangeable, os no names are attached.
"What do you feel like doing?"
"I don't know, what do you feel like?"
"I don't know, maybe making pasta?"
"Yeah, but what would we have with it?"
"Idon't know, we could go to a diner or a pizza place."
"Do I feel like pizza? I don't know, that might be expensive, maybe we should cook."
"but what would we cook?"
Imagine this going on for about 45 more minutes.
Finally, the other morning my inner decision maker had enough and we had a good talk about how we can improve our decision making process. The fact that we had this conversation is probably not surprising to anyone who I have worked with...that it took 4 weeks for me to have that conversation might be. What we really emphasized is that we all don't have to do everything the same...that seems to have helped.

I hope everyone is doing well.
cheers,
Leigh

Then the rain stopped

And it was good. And we had to search frantically for that unused item so crucial to the upcoming weeks...sunscreen. But before yesterday, we had 11 straight days of rain.

The best thing about the rain is that it makes justifying a hotel room much easier. One night we biked into a campground (in the rain) and the woman said, "We also have one yurt left." Nina, Alex, and KC all got really excited and yelled out, "A Yurt, we'll take it!" I had to confess my ignorance and ask, "um...what's a yurt?" It turns out that a yurt is a Mongolian (I'm not making this up) dwelling whose sides are made of stretchy wood and covered with thick felt. In our case they were covered with some thick plastic tarp like material. The important thing is that they were dry and warm and had a skylight so it seemed very cool. Besides how many times do you get to do anything like the mongolians?

On Saturday we biked about 10 miles in the pouring rain and it continued to get colder as the morning progressed. Alex and KC were quite a ways ahead of us when Nina looked back and asked, "Does my back tire look flat to you?" Against every instinct, I answered honestly and said, "yes, you need to change it." Thus began Nina's first experience changing a tire. She did a good job being her first time, but once the new tube (no time to patch tubes in the freezing rain) was on, we noticed continuous bubbles coming out of one spot on the tire. Air leakage. Yuck. So, she had to start over with another new tube. At this point our fingers and toes were completely frozen and every fiber of my 5 layers of clothing was soaked. Once the tire was fixed we got on our bikes and I kept thinking, "Leigh, this is really stupid. It's too cold and too wet and there's a nice headwind thrown in there for good measure." After a bit, we saw the first sign of civilization - a bear and cookie store. It always amazes me that towns of 600 people can't support a library, a motel, or a bike shop, but can keep open a store that only sells stuffed bears and cookies. We stayed inside for 2 hours and never got dry or warm, but finally had to bike to the next town where Alex and KC were. When we walked in to the diner where they had been waiting for us, we couldn't sit down or even think we were so cold. Luckily Alex and KC had decided that we should all stop for the day and booked us a motel room. Yay! So we went and took hot showers and ended up drinking lots of local beer and watching college football. Every story on the bike trip has a happy ending.

I haven't written enough about how spectacular the coast of Oregon is. Every turn we take has a better view than the last. We've also been really lucky in seeing wild life. The other morning I looked down into the water and there were probably 15 whales swimming (although it was really hard to count). I stood there for 20 minutes totally transfixed by their lackadaisical meandering about and could have stayed there all day. On another day we were staring at a particularly beautiful spot and then noticed a whole bunch of seals diving around down below us. For me, someone who grew up in a landlocked area, the ocean and everything that we are seeing are such treats.

I hope you all are doing well.
cheers,
leigh

Gearheads

On a scale of 1-10 I'd say that I'm a level 7 gearhead. Gearhead being defined as someone who loves the process of buying new stuff for whatever activity they are getting involved in. I know that wicking material is good and cotton is bad, but I still have both in my bag. I wear spandex bike shorts on the trip, but still have the same ones from my last tour.

One of the first things that I do when we meet other cyclists is to check out their gear. Of my 5 minute conversation with Lars from the Netherlands whom I met on some back road in Washington, I failed to answer all 10 of his map related questions (I don't carry a map, don't look at the maps, I just follow Alex, KC, and Nina in front of me) but I did pick up on his uber cool, extra expensive, metallic silver Ortlieb panniers. Yesterday as I was climbing a huge, long hill, I heard a clanging noise behind me and three minutes later a voice called out, "where are you biking to?" We carried on a conversation up the hill and I found out that they were Josh and Joe from Portland who were doing a week long tour just in Oregon. The entire time they were behind me and I kept my head down and focused due to the steep grade of the hill. At the top of the hill we paused for photos and I saw them. They had gigantic backpacks on with milkcrates duct taped to their bikes with their pots and books in them (hence the clanging), and were wearing rolled up khakis and Asics and Vans respectively. For those of you who aren't familiar with touring gear, this would put them at level 1.

We are starting to meet more interesting people. We were chatting with a woman at the table next to us in a little cafe in the town of Pacific City. After we were done with our meals she asked if she could sketch us, since she liked to sketch adventurous people. I said sure and after the others saw her work they too lined up to sit for Joanne. She was a retired art teacher who lived in hawaii, but 13 years ago moved to Oregon and now paints on commission. She was in the area painting sea scapes. Although we all looked very similar (her style is reminiscent of 1950's Dick, Jane and Spot illustrated books), we each got to keep our little drawings for free and it was a touching little moment on the trip.
I hope everyone is doing well.
Cheers,
Leigh

Signs, signs, everywhere are signs

And the sign said "Old Highway 101 closed 8 miles ahead from August 28th to October 1st."
We stared at the sign for 10 minutes and deliberated about what to do. KC flagged down two cars and both confirmed that the road was closed ahead. We looked at our map. There was an alternative route - just keep following 101 instead of doing the Old Highway 101 scenic side route. The alternative was shorter (5 miles vs. 12 miles) and it was questionable on whether it would be steeper... we knew that Old Highway 101 would be very steep.

We decided to go forward on the closed Old Highway 101, because we had bikes and bikes could get around a road closure. Yeah.

We rode for a while enjoying the forest around us as it started to change as we climbed further in elevation. The next sign said, "Old Highway 101 closed 6 miles ahead."
We pressed on.
Then, "Road closed ahead." We paid no mind.
At five miles in we passed a little 6 room school house. One of the teachers stuck his head out the window and shouted to us, "the road is closed ahead!"
KC asked, "but is it totally out or can we still get by?"
"They dug a 50 foot deep and 100 foot long ditch where the road used to be. If you didn't have all that gear, and if you had mountain bikes instead of those bikes, I'd still recommend against it," the teacher replied."
"Yeah, but can we go around the ditch?" KC yelled back.
"If you were elk," he stated bluntly "besides, the workers won't let you."
"But are the workers working now?" KC rationalized.
"Yup."
We looked at each other and...Continued to climb the hill.
We continued to pass the "Road closed x miles ahead" countdown signs.

Finally, at the top of the huge hill were two barricades and then the road ended. Into thin air.
Alex came back to us and said, "Yup, the road is closed."
"Ok," we responded, "I guess we better go down and take that other route."

I can't believe how stupid that story sounds when I actually write it down.

The Discovery channel with out cable

Hello,
It's Tuesday, September 14th and I'm in Seaside, Oregon.

I should preface this and all of my emails, that bike touring brings out my inner geek. There is something about being out on the road that causes me to get really interested in science and history.

We were crossing over the Columbia River, from Washington into Oregon, and chatting with the captain of the ferry. It had mercifully stopped raining for the 15 minutes it took us to cross for you see the ferry was just an uncovered platform boat that shuttled back and forth. The captain was a big bear of a man that had a forest of greyish white hair covering every visible inch of his body (the visible body mass was increased by his shirt being unbuttoned to his belly). When we reached the other side there was a small inlet with a side stream into the mainland and a handful of fishermen wading at the mouth. The captain just shook his head and said, "don't know why they are fishing, the salmon are spawning and they are terrible to eat at this time."
It didn't really sink in to me what that meant "salmon are spawning" until we disembarked and went about 100 yards up that little stream. There we found a truly remarkable site. There were the salmon. And they certainly were trying to swim up stream. Visions of pbs documentaries flashed through my head but this time there weren't hundreds of salmon swimming in a rushing stream. These salmon were huge. I'm talking 2 1/2 to 3 feet long. And they were trying to get up stream in 2 inches of water in some places. I walked up and down the stream looking at the extremely difficult road ahead for these salmon and wanted to tell them, "listen, you most likely aren't going to make it...I've seen the carcasses of those who have gone before you and I say - give up on this silly dream and go back and have some fun in the ocean."
But they kept going anyway.

The biking in southern washington was great, mostly because they have blackberry bushes every ten feet and it's blackberry season. I keep stopping (most of the time when I'm going up hill I feel compelled to stop for a snack, it's funny how that works) and stuffing my face with them.

It's still raining. We look in the newspaper at the weather forecast for pure enjoyment now. Our theory is just like the eskimos have 11 different words for snow, The people of the pacific northwest can say rain in a plethora of ways. From yesterday's newspaper for example...Monday "Periods of rain", Tuesday "late day shower", Wednesday "showers", Thursday "Rain likely", Friday"Maybe a shower", Saturday "Possible Showers", Sunday "Rain Possible". I didn't make that up.

I hope everyone is doing well.
cheers,
leigh

Pictures!

Hello,
It's September 8th, and I'm in Centralia, Washington.
Attached is a link to Katie's pictures from the Vancouver to Seattle leg of our trip.
Nina has the dreds.
Katie has short hair.
I have blond hair.
Alex has none of the above.
http://www.ofoto.com/I.jsp?c=18zruk0r.bfjc21if&x=0&y=es76jq
Cheers,
Leigh

Hellos and Goodbyes

Hello,
It is Friday September 10th and I'm in Centralia, Washington.

We arrived in Seattle on Thursday night at Alex's amazing friends, Arica and Mike's house. We were greeted with unbelievable hospitality, good conversation, good food, a hot tub and a real bed. Bliss. The rest of the weekend the four of us split up to do our own things. I had a great time hanging in Seattle - especially since my boyfriend Spencer flew out for the long weekend. We enjoyed every minute of our touristy time - Pike's market, the underground Seattle tour, and eating a whole lot of seafood.

After the weekend we had to say farewell to Katie Wharton who returned to her job in New York. It was a pleasure having Katie on the trip as she always brought great conversation starting questions to every meal and just a wonderful attitude to everything.

Over the weekend, we also met our new bike tourer - K.C. She is a friend of Nina's and is going to ride from Seattle to San Francisco with us. K.C. easily fit into our group with her California laid back style and her excessive knowledge of plants.

We immediately noticed a difference upon biking south out of Seattle. Contrasting north of Seattle vs. South of Seattle...lunchtime food in the north was typically tofu scramble vs. chicken fried steak in the south. Bumper stickers changed from "Election 2004, End of an Error" to "Bush/Cheney 2004". (Yeah, I've noticed that the republicans haven't been as creative with their election paraphanelia slogans). And beer of choice (judging from the bottles and cans on the side of the road) changed from any Northwest micro brew to Busch and Busch Lite.

But the scenary is still spectacular. There are so many different kinds of fir trees - my favorite is the one where it looks like a normal size christmas tree stuck on top of a 30 foot high pole. Everything smells so clean and is just so green...well, of course it's green - it rains every day.

We biked into Centralia yesterday lured by the library and the possibility of staying at a 100 year old hotel/pub/movie theater. It exceeded our expectations with it's huge Tiffany glass chandaliers, train robber legends, and logging day pictures everywhere. You can check it out herehttp://www.thegrandlodge.com/index.php?loc=42&category=Location%20Homepage Once we found out that the movie of friday was Raiders of the Lost Ark we decided to spend the day here. I've particulary enjoyed reading about the local history (this town was founded by an African American man in the late 1800's, and there was a Centralia Massacre in 1919 that caused us all to brush up on our labor union history) and walking around town (the best flyer was an advertisement for the Washington Wrestling "September to Remember" brawl featuring The Orginal (sic) Doink the Clown vs. Mr. Beefy Goodness Vance Nevada. Unfortunately we won't be around on September 17th to see the smack down).
cheers,
leigh

A beginning...and then another

Hello,
It's Monday September 6th and I'm in Seattle, Washington.

The four of us left Vancouver on Saturday August 28th. There were some smile inducing moments those first few days - the monument at the US border reading "United States of America, William Jefferson Clinton, President", signs along the coast reading "Tsunami Escape Route"...but for the most part we quickly descended into a routine - wake up, bike, eat, bike, look at unbelievably beautiful scenery, eat, bike, eat, bike, eat, set up camp, sleep. Peaceful, stress less...boring. On Wednesday morning I was actually thinking to myself - is this what the last trip was like...wasn't there more to it? (I should mention that I was also changing my flat tire at the time...after climbing many hills...in the cold rain.) By Wednesday evening our spirits were dampened (mostly by the rain) and we were struggling up more hills, in the middle of nowhere, 7 miles away from our campground. Then there was a loud bang. Alex had a flat tire. This would be our 4th flat tire for the group in as many days. Actually, to call it a flat tire would be a gross understatement - he had a huge 2 inch gash in both his tube and tire. Unfortunately, his patches wouldn't work. Even worse, Alex's spare tube was actually fitted for his racing bike - the bike that was back home...in Chicago and that tiny tube would not support his monstrous mountain bike tires.

Oh boy! It was crisis time! Immediately we all got out our cameras to document it.

We tried calling the police, the local cab companies, our mothers - and got answering machines from them all. Finally, we decided that we would flag down a truck, beg them to take Alex into the next town with a bike shop and the three of us women would bike to the campground and we would meet up with Alex the next day.
Five minutes went by and no cars.
Ten minutes went by and - headlights! ...of a sports car.
Fifteen minutes went by and (I did mention that we were on the side of a mountain in a forest, right?) no cars.
Twenty minutes and finally a large truck rolls down the hill.
Immediately, the three women jumped into the rod and started waving our hands maniacally. Surprisingly, the truck stopped.

"What's the problem?", a well groomed elderly man asked us.
"Alex has a flat tire that we can't fix and we were hoping that you might know of a way for us to get him and the bike to Silverdale," I stepped up and responded.
"Well, I'm going to Silverdale. I can take him." the kind hearted man said.
"That would be amazing!" we all sang.
"Well, what are the rest of you doing?" he then asked.
"We are going to bike to the next campground and then meet Alex tomorrow in Silverdale," I said.
"Well, I can take all of you, put your bikes in the back of my truck," the now elevated to angelic man said.

So, we piled all four loaded bikes into the back of his sweet F150 and then climbed our greasy, smelly bodies into his immaculate cab and he drove us all the way to Silverdale. His kindness stunned us all, especially when we learned that we would make him late for barber shop quartet practice (they were going to a huge competition in 3 weeks). As we drove we learned a tiny bit about the wonderful life of Frosty Faust. He lived all over the world (Taiwan, Belgium, China, Japan, Germany...Nebraska), but when we asked where his favorite place to live was he replied, "Well, I think I found it right here." After he patiently waited for us to unload all of our gear from his truck at the local motel, Nina asked, "what does your license plate (ADVIVUM) mean?" Frosty questioned back, "Your high school latin has escaped you already?" Nina surprised me by correctly answering, "To life?" Frosty then answered back, "Yes, to life."

As he drove away from us, I was left with an indescribable amalgamation of feelings. But suddenly it had returned to me - why I liked bicycle touring.

I hope everyone is doing well.
Cheers,
Leigh