Day 48

Mileage: 108
Total mileage: 4250

 

Today I hit the Pacific Ocean! They say this thing is bigger even than the great plains, and sometimes flatter too!

 

Last night in Corvallis I ended up finding a little park in the middle of a quiet little neighborhood and dropping my bedroll under an enormous tree. This thing was at least 100 feet tall and I figured if there was rain I would be able to set up my tarp before it got really wet under the branches. There was only a 15% chance of rain last night... apparently in Oregon the sky just always looks forbidding and cloudy. There was some underbrush near the bottom of the tree, so I tucked myself and my bike neatly out of sight and slept dry through the night, getting up and out early this morning.

 

The first 50 or so miles of the day were straight north through the center of Oregon. I've been hearing continuously about how it was going to get really green on this side of the Cascades, but so far everything had looked like the east coast: lots of farmland, tons of clear-cut fields, and enough greenery tucked in between that I thought maybe this is what people were talking about. I was about to be proven wrong later today.

 

Fortunately, the one thing separating this coast from the other is the incessant prevalence of blackberries. I laugh now, thinking how I marveled at the "miles of blackberries" on my way into Eugene two days ago. Today I was marveling whenever the berries stopped for more than a couple hundred yards. Also, there are way more than any flock of gatherers could possibly pick, leaving bushes like this one literally right next to the highway. I didn't even have to get off my bike to pick these berries and take this picture.

 

 

 

For most of the morning and a fair bit of the afternoon, I continued to ride through this clear-cut farmland, until I got near the coast. After about two dozen miles on highway 18/22 (where my left ear was practically numb from the sound of cars whooshing past) I got to turn off onto a street named "Old Scenic Hwy 101." That sounded promising.

 

And all of a sudden, I found the green!! The road wound up a little mountain (under 1000 feet) and took me down the back side toward the coast. The whole time I was riding through a veritable tunnel of greenery with the light barely filtering through from above. Pictures have a really hard time capturing the level of sheer immersion that comes from experiencing this gut-jarring expanse of verdant vegetation.

 

 

First off, there were the trees. Most of them were broad-leafed deciduous folks with leafy canopies extending up over the road from either side. A narrow strip of light was shining down directly above, where the ribbon of highway had been cut through the rainforest. Because tree bark is brown, and apparently that's not allowed, the trunks and branches were draped with gorgeous hanging moss. Beneath the trees was a continuous cover of wide-leaf bushes, creating a secondary canopy. Not to be outdone, this second canopy was sheltering a host of ferns and tall green grasses, while the ground underneath was carpeted in moss. Every tiny gap seemed to be filled with some little opportunistic plant that was pushing through to sneak a little bit of the available light. The thought of walking off the highway through the bush was absolutely laughable, it was so dense. And by the most important metric of all, blackberry prevalence, it was an absolute goldmine. Whichever side of the road was against the hillside was consistently covered in blackberry brambles at least 40 feet high for miles on end. So THIS is where all the water is getting dumped.

 

 

My lush detour took me up a few hundred feet and then back down again before dumping me out on the real Hwy 101 near the coast. I rode along until I got to see ocean for the first time at Pacific City. I made it! This was the last of my three major landmarks that I wanted to see: the Mississippi River, Hoosier Pass and the Pacific Ocean. I technically have another day of riding still, but that's just a formality to officially complete the Transamerica Trail. My dream of riding coast to coast, albeit by one of the most indirect routes, is complete!

 

 

The rest of the evening was spent riding that sweet tide of accomplishment for another couple dozen miles north along the coast. I finally stopped for the night at a little town called Netarts and ate dinner at a nice restaurant by the beach. After the restaurant closed down, I spent a few more hours hanging out at the bar after hours with a few of the wait staff. They helped me celebrate with a few beers and several shots.

 

 

Pleasantly buzzed, I've gone to find a good place to sleep for the night. There's a little pier here by the restaurant that doesn't seem to get a lot of use, so I'm going to crash for the night. Despite the few drinks I've had, I concentrated very hard and managed to get set up without dropping anything important in the water. I think I can finally sleep in a little, there are only 85 miles left between me and Astoria. Tomorrow should be my last day! G'night!

 

 

*Gasp* How do I have a picture of my pier the next morning if I wrote this at night? Even when I have to write my entries the following day, I write from the perspective of where I slept last night. That's right kids, everything is staged and nothing is real. Just thought I'd give a heads up. 

Day 47

Mileage: 45
Total mileage: 4142

A nice half day in Eugene, and it looks like I'm going north.

Last night I was pretty convinced that I was going to go south to the redwoods. Lann was going to drop me off south of town so that I'd only have a 125 mile day into Bandon and I was going to try to meet him there again on Saturday afternoon. Everything technically fit together, but this morning I started to realize that there was really no overlap, no wiggle room. I'd have to hit some big mileage marks and wasn't feeling incredibly strong after pulling 520 miles in the last 5 days with a lot of mountains. Theoretically I could just back it off and ride the whole spur slower without getting the ride back to Eugene, but I think I want to come back and do a short ride from Seattle to San Francisco sometime instead of trying to squeeze it in quickly at the end of this trip. The southern coast of Oregon will have to wait, I'll come back to see it as soon as possible.

I forgot to get a picture with Lann this morning, but remembered to get one with Melody before she left for work. I took time to write my posts from the last two days since all this socializing has occupied the time usually dedicated to writing, and then went to enjoy the garden for a little while before leaving the Leslies' house.

From their house I rode right down the street to the bike shop to do some much needed work. The kind workers lent me a rag and some degreaser and I went to town on the frame. When it was all clean, I scoured the drivetrain, lubricated and tensioned my brake/shifter cables, adjusted the rear derailleur, cleaned and realigned the brakes, trued the back wheel a little and replaced a cracked bottle holder. I felt a lot better about the whole thing, which took me just under two hours, putting me right around lunchtime. The mechanic on duty directed me to an all you can eat Indian food buffet where I tried my hardest to put the place out of business. Before I left the city I made sure to tour around the University of Oregon campus and stop for ice cream.

Around 3 I finally left Eugene on a finely tuned bike, full of rice and ice cream and ready to go! I made the most out of the afternoon, putting on the 45 miles into Corvallis pretty quickly. The only times I stopped were to eat the delicious bounty by the side of the road. The blackberries still don't stop, and it's hard to keep riding when a quick squeeze of the brakes and a few minutes of picking will net you big double handfuls of delicious berries. I also stopped a few times at wheat fields to pluck a head or two and roll the kernels away from the chaff, the way a wheat farmer showed me a few days ago.

Corvallis is that awkward size of about 50,000 people where it's too large for them to let you sleep in a park and just small enough for them to actually find you if you try. I would ride outside of town and do a makeshift camp by the highway, but there are some serious clouds in the sky and they look like they mean business. Doing the old 'McDonalds post and figure out where I'm sleeping afterwards' that's worked for me a few times now across the country. I suppose I should head out pretty soon now, since it's getting dark soon. G'night!

Day 46

Mileage: 110
Total mileage: 4097

I rode over my last real mountain pass today! Now it's almost totally flat, all the way to the end.

This morning when I woke up, Nancy was already awake, bright eyed and bushy tailed despite the fact that she was up at 4 yesterday and didn't go to bed until nearly midnight. I have no idea how she does that. John was gone by 5am which left me as the late riser at 6:20. I said my goodbyes and rolled out on my bike at 6:47, a time I know so specifically only because Bruce called it out to me as I rode away.

I stopped at the end of the driveway to take a shot of the mountains in the morning sun. That's right, this is the view from the Stephenson's front porch!

 

I rode the couple miles back to the TransAm so that I wouldn't miss any mileage and then continued on another 5 miles into Sisters for breakfast. I made a point of stopping at Angeline's bakery for a marion berry scone since I had gotten three recommendations by that point. It was delicious, even though I had no clue what a marion berry was. The girl at the bakery gave me directions to a little cafe where she said I could get a hearty breakfast, but the place was closed on Wednesdays, so I went to the little cafe next door and ordered eggs with pancakes. I should have taken another picture of these pancakes, because they were hilariously dainty. I stacked all three of them together to make one miniature sized, regular pancake and was through with my whole plate by the time the server came back out of the kitchen. I was fine though since Nancy had sent me on my way this morning with a whole bag of walnuts, cliff bars and an apple. 

Apparently there was a huge bike race called the Cascade Classic coming out of Bend this morning. It didn't start till 10, and I wanted to stay ahead of them so I wouldn't get swept up in the peloton, meaning I climbed the Cascades pretty quickly this morning. As I rode higher and higher to McKenzie pass, the conifers started to give way to lava flows, and by the time I crossed my high point I was in a barren rock field. This is the last big mountain range between me and the coast!!! I have a few more 800 foot climbs in the next few days, but nothing spanning thousands of feet. I'm almost there!

 

 

The high mountain peaks looked gorgeous far away across the lava fields. 

 

Over the top, I was excited for this descent. I had heard from a bunch of people that it was steep and curvy, which is my idea of a lot of fun. I hit a few gnarly sections, but each one was separated by a few hundred meters of flat, or even uphill road. After about 5 miles of this, I was starting to get disappointed that this might just be a long gentle and boring descent. That would've been fine, it's definitely the most efficient way to use the elevation, but it wouldn't have been nearly as much fun. Then I started seeing these signs: 

 

I like to call these signs "fun indicators." The squigglier the line and the lower the number beneath it, the more fun you're about to have. After resigning myself to the drudgery of a long slow downhill climb, I was shocked back into excitement by a 10 mile, 3000 foot rollercoaster of awesomeness. The road was a narrow two lane deal that often had fairly sharp drops down ferny slopes and I was blasting through constant, unrelenting turns at 35 miles an hour. For the non-cyclists, it's simply not practical to use your brakes on a descent like this. You'd have to squeeze them every couple seconds and you'd absolutely destroy your brake pads before you got halfway down. So the alternative is to stand in the pedals, maximizing air resistance when you need to slow down a little, and just burn through the turns at breakneck speed, relying on the alternating directions of the curves and the banked slopes of the highway to keep you from shooting off the edge. You've also got to look out for cars coming the other direction, because they seem to have a difficult time staying in their lane around sharp curves. Cars in your own lane can be a bit of an issue too, since I was going faster than any other vehicle down that slope. The few times I had to use my brakes were all when I got behind another vehicle, but fortunately they were all pretty quick at finding a shoulder and getting out of the way.

There's a particular satisfaction to that kind of descent. It's less the feeling of accomplishment from brutishly hauling your weight up a long hill and more the feeling of technical skill that comes from being absolutely wired and focused for so long. There were very few things going through my mind. Firstly, I was watching the "fun indicator" signs to have a good idea how steeply I needed to bank into each turn. I couldn't see very far around corners, so I had to put a ton of faith into those signs. Fortunately, they were all pretty accurate. Then you're scanning for cars coming the opposite direction, watching the road fervently for rocks and gravel that would skid you out and just focusing on cornering hard into each turn. All in all, it was the best descent of the trip and I'm so happy it was saved for last!

 I hardly had time to notice as I was going down, but a few thousand feet after I started my descent, it started to level out and I noticed a bit of change in vegetation. Huge trees, lush ferns, thick grass and running water are all things here. The term rainforest absolutely applies! Once the descent mellowed out, I got to ride the gentle downhill all the way to Eugene.

 

The last 20 or so miles took me off the main highway and wound me back through rural residential areas. Even in areas not bordering the river I rode past mile after mile of enormous blackberry brambles. After a while, I started coming on some mint as well, so the mixed scent of blackberries with mint carried me all the way to Coburg, where I turned south and continued to Eugene.

Tonight I'm staying with Melody and Lann Leslie, the parents of Megan, the girl I was talking to yesterday. I once again got in a little later than expected (due to ANOTHER flat tire! I'm getting my tires checked for wear tomorrow) and stepped into a whirlwind of activity. Melody and Lann are absolutely awesome, and they're also the biggest proponents of the southern Oregon coast. Lann made me an interesting offer at dinner tonight. I've never seen the California Redwoods, and I could theoretically ride 125 miles down to Bandon tomorrow, another 120 to California the next day to see the Redwoods, and then back up the coast to meet Lann who'll be in Bandon for business, and get a ride back into Eugene. It would add 3 days to my trip, 2 of them pretty brutal in terms of mileage, but I'm seriously considering making the detour. I don't know when I'll next be able to come back to Oregon and ride the coastline, so I might take advantage of the opportunity.

We'll see though, I may also just talk a half day to work on my bike here in Eugene and then ride north for a while towards Astoria. That route has the added advantage of letting me finish my whole trip in 50 days, which would be kind of a neat accomplishment. Tonight I'm spoiled once again. We had an enormous meal of smoked salmon, potatoes, salad and watermelon which I got to wash down with an incredible local IPA. How funny it is that I can be sleeping on a picnic table and scarfing down groceries one night, then enjoying the height of luxury a few days later. I think I may just be the luckiest guy on the planet! G'night!

Day 45

Mileage: 101
Total mileage: 3987

Today's ride was dominated by the looming cascades ahead, and it was beautiful! 

I woke up this morning and looked outside the little covered awning I was under to see pretty heavy rain. It was still before 7, so I rolled over and went back to sleep. No need to deal with that this early in the morning. When I opened my eyes a few minutes later it had stopped. I looked the other direction and it was still raining. I had forgotten about this particular northwest phenomenon where there will be a sharply demarcated line between rain and no rain. It used to split our back yard in half in Washington. As it was, I packed up and walked out the dry side of my awning without getting wet at all, while the other side of the park continued to get drenched.

At breakfast I ended up meeting a gentleman who actually rode the trail 39 years ago. It's fun to hear how things have barely changed. He knew the names of all the big hills I was tackling and we talked about small towns that no one would ever have heard of if it weren't for this route. I left breakfast inspired and ready to tackle my morning 2000 foot climb to the top of Ochoco Pass.

A few hours later I puffed to the top of the summit and began my descent. For some reason I've been having really bad luck with flats here in Oregon. My tires are still intact, but last night I got a big piece of metal stuck in the back tire while climbing Dixie pass (which led to a quick flat) and today some ground glass shards managed to get through my front tire, just far enough to cause a really slow leak. Over the top of the peak I found a little rest stop and flipped the bike over to swap the tubes out. Patching can wait till I'm in town. While I was working, a motorcyclist pulled up and got off to look around the little rest stop. I think his name was Jeff (or Rich, I can't keep names straight anymore) and he was riding up from Bend to see his daughter in Bozeman, Montana. I do distinctly remember his wife Katy though because she came up a few minutes later in a car and poured me two huge handfuls of ENORMOUS Oregon blueberries. They were fingerlicking good, despite the fact that my hands were covered in soot from the bike.

My ride into Prineville followed a pretty gentle downhill grade, so despite the rough surfacing of the road, I managed to make decent time. The entire time though, I was plagued by a tiny bit of irregularity in my front wheel where I had just changed the tire. It felt like it was out of round, but the rim looked great. How can a tire be out of round!? I deflated and reinflated it a few times during the ride into town and finally just decided to deal with the uneasiness for the next 20 miles. In Prineville, I stopped at a bike shop and asked the fellow working there if he knew what was up. From behind the counter he was able to tell that I just hadn't managed to get the tire bead completely tucked under the rim the whole way around. He deflated it, tugged on the tire for a few seconds and instantly fixed my problem. I learned something new about the things that can go wrong with bikes, I'd never heard of that problem before.

From Prineville I got to go north, off the main road and through O'Neil and Terrebonne, two tiny little cities. This is where things really started to get scenic! (see picture below for proof)

  

I was on the phone with a friend named Megan from Eugene, setting things up for tomorrow night, when I turned a corner and got my first glimpse of the Cascades, specifically the Three Sisters. Enormous, snow covered peaks hovering over the landscape, they were just jaw droppingly beautiful even far out on the horizon. The best part is, I was heading straight for them! 

 

 

Tonight the plan was to stay with my friend Hannah's aunt and uncle near Sisters. I had anticipated I would be there around 7 o'clock, let them know as much, and then my phone died. In true TransAmerican style, however, my route decided to go north for a while to seek out the only mountainous terrain between me and Sisters, slowing me down a fair bit. I spent the last hour positively cranking as hard as I could so that I wouldn't get there too much later than when I'd anticipated. I wasn't going too hard though to stop and take one more picture of the Cascades.

 

 

Home for the night is the luxurious accommodations of Nancy and John Stephenson. As soon as I rolled up the driveway I was bombarded with hospitality, given a room, a shower, offered a margarita, a place to dry my clothes, posh snacks and a tour of the garden. A few minutes after I got there, Hannah's other aunt and uncle Bruce (far left) and Sharon (taking the picture) arrived and I was given a map and a highlighter and asked to trace my route across the country. 

What followed was a hilarious and enjoyable evening. I absolutely stuffed myself on delicious carne asada tacos until I couldn't eat anymore, and then I got to have some ice cream. Both Nancy and John are wildlife biologists who met over an electrocuted eagle (how romantic...?) and now John does a lot of work with wolves. Bruce has hiked enormous swaths of the Pacific Crest Trail as well, so the conversation understandably lingered on the West Coast wilderness. John would brook no mention of the notion that Oregon might not be the wildest, prettiest place in the West. I think it's up in the air between Montana and Oregon, but what do I know, I've only ridden a fragment of each.

 

 

Tonight I'm sleeping in a bed!! I'm showered, warm and full of good food with a beautiful ride ahead of me tomorrow. I'm hoping to get up a little early, crush through the Cascades and get to Eugene by tomorrow afternoon if that's possible. But right now I'm just looking forward to the most comfortable night's sleep in a long time. G'night!

Day 44

Mileage: 112
Total mileage: 3886

I wanted to see if I could put in a solid mileage day today, despite the hills. My legs haven't failed me yet!

Ah! I slept incredibly well on my bed of pine needles last night. The cows were lowing all night long which was funny . I always see cows just in passing, so I usually think of them as quiet creatures. Nope! They can really belt it out if they want to. I wasn't bothered, I wanted to wake up and see the stars and I wasn't disappointed. The moon was so bright that I was casting a shadow on the ground at midnight, but when it went behind a cloud, the stars all came out to play for a few minutes. I'm glad I got to enjoy them last night because tonight it's cloudy, and I'm going to be in the bright part of the state starting tomorrow.

I woke up hungry as a result of not having dinner last night, so I was eager to get moving nice and early. I had 13 miles into Austin Junction and it included a 1200 foot, 4 mile climb. By the time I was on the other side, I was counting the mile markers to the junction. Finally I arrived at highway 26, turned right and rolled a few hundred yards down the road until I could see the sign for the cafe. It had a big sign that said 'Yes, we're open!' And underneath, 'huckleberry ice cream.' I've been wondering recently what would stop me faster, a sign that said 'stop Carl Buchholz' or one that said 'free ice cream.' I think the ice cream. Either way, I was excited and ready to chow through a massive breakfast. However, when I went up to the door, there was another sign on the door that said 'sorry, we're closed.' It was 8:30 and the cafe was supposed to open at 8, so I knocked on the door and peered inside. No one home. Eventually I realized I had to do the next 1000 foot climb and ride the 17 miles into Prairie City.

Turning the gastric juices back off was a challenge, as they were really getting revved up at the thought of pancakes, but I managed to quiet down the combustion system long enough to get into Prairie. There I rolled through town and found one breakfast cafe. Score! Nevermind, it was closed on Mondays.

There was no way I was riding another 20 miles into John Day without eating, but fortunately Prairie had a grocery store. I scarfed down a bunch of bananas, a bag of peanut butter MnM's and a box of ice cream bars just to hold me over. In John Day I finally got my breakfast, a little after noon and, well satisfied, continued on my ride after using the library for a little bit.

The afternoon was a gentle downhill ride, all the way down into Dayville. There were about a dozen miles where the wind got really really bad and I was afraid I would be riding those 40 miles for the rest of the day, but then I rode under a big storm front and the wind settled down. Again in Dayville the cafe was closed, so dinner was some odd food choices from the local grocery.

My last challenge was a 32 mile climb out of Dayville over Keye's pass. On the way, I got to go through the spooky canyon pictured into the John Day fossil beds. I even saw my favorite sign for a second time and stopped to get a picture. Last time it was on a downhill and I was too busy laughing to think about stopping to snap a photo.

After all the climbing and wind fighting I'd done already, I was a little bit worried that my legs wouldn't be able to hold out for the last climb. Fortunately, they exceeded my expectations and I wound up climbing for three continuous hours in total autopilot mode. At one point I felt like my legs were turning without exerting any force, but then my chain skipped a little and I felt just how hard I was torquing the drivetrain in that split second. Sadly, these legs haven't gotten all big and muscular, they're just capable of working hard all day long without ever getting tired, which I guess is sort of what I was looking for anyways.

The last few miles of my climb were completed in the semi darkness of the fading sunset, of which I included a few pictures. I couldn't help thinking for that whole last stretch across pastures into the rosy sunset, just how lucky I am to be able to see the country this way. I've almost started to take the experience for granted, but tonight, rolling across an isolated plateau through the sweet perfume of the plants, I couldn't help but remember how incredible this trip has been.

Tonight I'm staying in the playground area for the school in Mitchell (pop 80). I have no idea how a town this small can support a school, but I'm grateful it's here tonight. G'night!

Day 43

Mileage: 90
Total mileage: 3774

It seems the hills aren't going to stop for a while!

This morning at the diner in Halfway, the waitress wasn't taking me seriously. She insisted that no one could want eight eggs AND a stack of pancakes. I assured her that I knew what I was ordering, and her repeated gesturing of the size of the pancakes wasn't dissuading me. I've had this same breakfast for the past 3 days in a row and not had any trouble finishing, so I included a picture. Doesn't look unreasonable, does it?!

I was glad that I fueled up, because the morning started with a punishing 1000 foot climb over into Richland. From there I dropped back into Hell's Canyon for the next 30 miles or so. I knew from the elevation profile on my maps that I was supposed to spend my morning almost exclusively climbing, so I was bewildered as I continued to descend gently in the canyon along the river. In fact, it started to become frustrating because the wind was blowing in my face and despite the gentle downhill slope I was making terrible time. After a few frustrated miles I pulled over and stared at the Powder River for a while which was flowing next to the highway. Oddly, it was flowing towards me, meaning I was going upstream. I looked back at the road and there was a really weird optical illusion, like when you look at that picture with the boxes coming out at you and suddenly they flip so that they're going back into the page. The gentle downhill slope had become an uphill slope! It was very strange. You'd think I'd be able to tell if a road was going downhill or up just by looking at it, but the lay of the land and apparently some expectation of going downhill was enough to fool my mind. Suddenly, even though I was going the exact same speed as before, I felt very satisfied with my pace and the frustration evaporated. 

As an aside, I think that this is where the frustration of the wind comes from. It's very mentally challenging when the look of the road in front of you doesn't match the speed you're traveling. 15 mph feels great on a gentle incline and it's absolutely terrible on a descent. Perhaps this is also why it helps so much to stare at the handlebars while climbing!

My morning ended with one last climb out of the dry and barren desert...

...and over the hill, down into the lush Baker City Valley.

As I sat down to lunch in Baker City I took my phone off airplane mode and got a text from a family friend back in Arizona, Kirk Hayes. It said something like, "You might soon be going through my hometown of Baker City." After a short conversation he told me that his parents were actually in town and gave me phone numbers and addresses in case I wanted to stay the night. I was hoping for some more mileage, but mentioned I might stop by to say hi.

After lunch, I was sitting on a bench in the city outside the (closed) bike shop, getting ready to text his family that I wouldn't be able to see them before I left, when a couple walked up and asked if I was "the young man with the bike." By sweet serendipity I had run into his parents on the street. I forgot to get their picture, but we chatted for a bit and they gave me valuable information on where I could find water this afternoon.

My goal for tonight was to get to Austin Junction, a total of 103 miles. Due to all my climbing and lollygagging in town, I figured I was going to run out of daylight. Out of Baker City I had a 25 mile slow ascent into three steep 1000 foot peaks in rapid succession. I started the first climb as the sun was going down, after chugging 2 full water bottles that I filled up at a convenient ranger station. I used the last of my phone battery to get two quick pictures.

Sadly, I should have saved some battery for when I got over the first peak. I'll have to describe the panorama instead. As I descended from the summit of Sumpter, there was a flaming crimson line settling over the mountains on my right. Circling around the perimeter of the sky was a delicate spread of light, feathery clouds dipped in a gentle peach glow from the setting sun. I could see the entire 10 mile length of the valley between my current descent and my next climb where the densely forested ridges faded down into soft mountain meadows with a bright blue river glimmering through the middle of them. Tiny black dots of cattle were spread across the landscape, enjoying the idyllic seclusion. While I rode through the valley and made a westward turn, the crimson line settled down into a gentle layering of red, orange, violet and finally grey, sitting on top of the mountains ahead of me. It bathed the whole landscape in that soft amber glow that can make almost any view look romantic.

I figured I had about 45 minutes of daylight to cross the valley and make the last climb before I'd do my descent into Austin Junction in the dark. As I was zipping along the valley floor, I started to wonder why I was bothering to zip by. There was nothing particularly special about Austin Junction, except a little country store where I might get electricity overnight. It seemed truly criminal to waste that kind of gorgeous scenery by riding through in a haze of exhaustion, so I pulled off the side of the highway as the sun finished sinking over the horizon. There's a nice little hill here, all covered in pine needles and overlooking the pastures below. I've laid out my groundcloth and sleeping bag and this is looking like a great place to spend the night. I'll get up a little earlier tomorrow to sneak those last 13 miles in before breakfast.

Hopefully the logging trucks wake me up a few times as they go by tonight, I'm really hoping to enjoy the stars. G'night!

Day 42

Mileage: 107
Total mileage: 3684

How can Oregon be this freaking awesome? ! I'm not even in the good part yet!

Last night I went to the park in New Meadows to get some sleep. I eyed the verdant lawn suspiciously and eventually choose to crash on the concrete slab by the visitor information board. My decision paid off when the sprinklers came on halfway through the night and I was dry. I've also gotten pretty good at finding power outlets. Under the little pagoda where I was sleeping there was a light, which meant electricity. Sure enough, tucked up under the roof there was an outlet box which I was able to reach by climbing the side of the little structure. Electricity for another day!

Breakfast in Council was cheap again! 7.89 got me eight eggs, two huge pancakes and a biscuit with jelly. I love being out of tourist country. The roads are open and clear and I sometimes have the better part of an hour with the landscape all to myself in peace and quiet to just daydream and think while enjoying the scenery.

50 miles into my day I hit the little town of Cambridge. My maps indicated a bike shop but gave no address so I started looking around. What followed was the small town process of getting a bike fixed. I asked a random lady walking down the street if she knew where it was. She didn't, but remembered that there used to be something with bikes at the fabric shop. In the fabric shop the proprietor informed me that there used to be a bike shop sharing the building, but that the mechanic had moved it into his garage up the street at his house. At this point I was ready to quit because I just wanted to get my tires back to pressure and do some cleaning, but she insisted on calling Tom, the owner, and putting me on the phone. Tom was busy rafting the river but offered to cut his trip short and come back to town for me. When I informed him what I was looking for he told me he had a bike pump on his porch for general use and gave me directions to his house. I rode there and found the pump which didn't work. So I went and got ice cream from the grocery store instead.

30 miles up the road I descended 3000 feet down and across the snake river at the site of a small dam. I was cooking along through the arid landscape, minding my own business when suddenly I noticed I was riding past a 'Welcome to Oregon' sign. What!? I wasn't supposed to start a new state today, was I? Sure enough, I checked my maps and apparently there was a border crossing planned for this afternoon. And surprisingly, even though the landscape stayed rugged and dry like Idaho, my day changed significantly once I got into this new state.

I was riding along a river, not a mile into Oregon and realized with some incredulity that I'd somehow only had one meal so far
In the day. Breakfast had been late and lunch just hadn't happened after ice cream this afternoon. On cue I rode past some wild plum trees. These are, in fact, the same fruit which I was told were cherries at the ranger station the other day, but they taste more like apricots or plums, so I'm believing the wild plum angle. There were deep purple, soft pink, bright yellow and multicolored fruits, all on different trees. I had slightly more confidence since I'm still alive after the last time I ate these, but they were also a different color, so I was still cautious. I enjoyed what was hopefully a sublethal dose which worked itself out to be roughly as many plums as I could fit in my stomach. They were delicious! I wanted to chug a water bottle to fill, but my last leg of the day was going to be a 26 mile pull through an area called Hell's Canyon, which didn't sound like the kind of place you wanted to be without water in. Satisfied, I rode on past hundreds more trees, positively lining the road along the water, each with thousands of plums so ripe that the slightest touch would dislodge them.

Suddenly I was smacked in the face by a familiar scent. I couldn't quite place it, but it smelled unquestionably like Washington and childhood. I came around the next corner to find a whole thicket of blackberries growing wild along the cliff by the road!!! Once again I couldn't help but stop and I spent the next half hour reliving the years I spent as a kid in Seattle, picking the good blackberries from the thicket next to our house and leaving the unripe ones. I was wishing for the little wooden step stool that we used to use to get the higher berries because there were so many good ones just out of reach. I think I also may have solved a childhood mystery.

When living in Arizona we had lots of ants in our yard. If you crushed one with your finger, it would let off a very particular and strangely familiar sweet smell. That small always reminded me of something that had nothing to do with ants and I never could figure out what it was. I think I eventually just assumed it was a perfume I had smelled somewhere. Today, while cramming berries into my mouth I suddenly got a burst of the flavor corresponding to that perfume! It jogged my memory and finally I remembered that peculiar taste that only comes with one in a hundred or so berries. I think, and I might be wrong, but I think that flavor comes from eating a blackberry with an ant on it. I'm not completely positive because I couldn't find any more ants to test my theory, but that's the working hypothesis right now.

Down the road, still in Hell's Canyon, bushes of elderberries started mixing themselves into the ever thickening collage of plums and berries. As I climbed a little out of the canyon I got to pass through a few little riverbeds which were evidently lined with wild mint in addition to all the wild apple trees. The sweet minty smell mixed with the blossomy apple scent and filled the cool river air with incredible fragrance. At one point, crossing over the top of a hill, I had a whole valley laid out in front of me, dense green foliage carpeting the bottom while the scrub covered walls rose high to either side. I stopped for a moment just to take in the sight and noticed a bald eagle flapping lazily across the landscape not 50 yards ahead of me. He coolly glanced over at me on his way past as if to say 'That's right, this is freaking 'Merica, son.'

So if this bountiful garden is the desolate wasteland part of Oregon, what do I have in store on the other side of the cascades?

Tonight I'm sleeping on a stage in the park of Halfway, Oregon. G'night!