Long Haul Truckin'

I was awoken from my slumber to the rousing sounds of ‘The Final Countdown’ by Europe coming from Graham’s tent. It was an uplifting moment as I pumped the air with my fist, a wave of excitement came over me. 68 days on the road, over 4000 miles, 11 different states and we were down to the last day.

We emerged from our tents and were greeted by a low hanging fog covering the hills across the park. The air was wet but it was not enough to dampen our spirits as we went about our usual morning ritual of packing away tents with more eagerness than normal.

As we rode the rain came down but we all made an effort to remain positive, not wanting this achievement to be spoiled by bad weather. I went into my thoughts and began to reflect on the past two months. At the start of the ride this day had felt like an indescribably long way off. Now, here we were and I was finding it hard to recall in detail the first days of the ride. I remember being filled with thoughts and worries. ‘What is something goes wrong with my bike that I can’t fix? What if something goes wrong with my body that I can’t fix?!’ Thankfully, nothing really went wrong. My bike held up and so did my body. If I wasn’t so firmly in the finishing mindset I could honestly have gone on for another thousand miles.

Astoria marks the official end point for the TransAmerica Trail and it seems an odd choice given that the town doesn’t actually sit on the coast, but just further inland on the Columbia river. In Portland, Dennis had told us that when he arrived in Astoria to complete his ride the feeling was so underwhelming, no official marker, no fanfare, nothing. We wanted to be able to stand in the Pacific Ocean and feel a sense of completion. So we had a late breakfast in Astoria and rode on another fifteen miles down the coast to Seaside. We rode through the town and turned down a quiet residential road leading to a dead end. As we approached the end of the road, grass covered sand dunes framed a view of the ocean up ahead.

And then we came to a stop.

There was no American style whooping and hollering, no shouts of joy or high fives, just a quiet sense of satisfaction and pride at our accomplishment. The rain had stopped and the sun was shining through broken cloud. The three of us pushed our bikes a hundred or so metres across the beach and stood in the sand as the water of the Pacific ocean washed over our feet.

It’s been the journey of a lifetime and I have a feeling there will be more to come…

Tomorrow we’ll be back in Portland having completed our journey, and with two easy rides before then we took it easy this morning and slept in a little.

After a leisurely breakfast and chatting with Dennis for a while we started riding about 11. We rode out of Portland and through suburban sprawl before arriving in Clatskanie, 62 miles later. It was a mostly flat, grey and uninteresting day with intermittent drizzle and we pitched our tents in the rain at the city park, desperately hoping for some sun for our arrival at the end tomorrow. If the weather stays how it is I can sense one big anti-climactic day tomorrow! 

The morning was quite entertaining, riding through a series of short tunnels. At the start of each tunnel was a button you had to press which started a flashing light, warning motorists of cyclists in the tunnel. I perfected the art of slamming the button with my hand as I rode by and then we all took great delight in shouting various words and noises as loud as possible while riding through. It is the simplest things that keep you entertained while cycling.

It was a scenic ride as we started to see the Pacific Northwest that I had pictured in my mind. Huge fir trees densely carpet the valley sides and sweep right down to the waters edge. It really is beautiful and there is a magical, almost eerie feel to the landscape. We had a decent climb up to an overlook point where we got a stunning view over the Columbia river gorge. The descent was fairly rapid and the mountainous landscape disappeared almost instantaneously and became flat for our ride into Portland.

The award for worst road of the trip goes to the Old Evergreen Highway leading into Portland, which was obviously once a fairly important road but now appears largely unused and has a surface not dissimilar to the moon.

We were staying in Portland with Dennis, who had been following Graham’s blog and offered us a place to stay. Portland is a fairly big city but Dennis’ flat was located conveniently almost on our route. We had heard nothing but good things about Portland and much of it seemed to be true. The city is ranked as the greenest in the US and one of the most cycle friendly- it is teeming with cyclists. Dennis lives in a part of the city which not too long ago was a poor, black area, but has now been largely gentrified and is a popular place for hippies, hipsters and young, trendy people hanging out in one of the many micro breweries or eating and shopping in small, independently owned shops, cafes and restaurants.

Not exactly a picturesque entrance into Portland

Arriving in Portland felt like a big moment. This is where we will be flying back to the UK from in a couple of weeks and it felt like our first proper glimpse of the end.

Thanks to Dennis

I guess our recent high mileage days have left us all feeling physically and mentally drained. None of us were in the right frame of mind this morning, plus my backside is feeling quite sore again. A gas station after about 35 miles provided a very welcome break from the saddle and as we sat there munching on snacks the sun made a more concerted effort to brighten the sky and our moods.

We soon had a longish uphill, to which I let our another groan as it appeared around the corner. At this point every climb or challenging stretch of terrain feels like another tiring hurdle to overcome on our way to the finish. Before it was all part of the ever changing landscape of this huge and beautiful country. But the scenery was impressive and we spent much of the day riding toward the looming figure of Mount Hood, a ‘potentially active’ volcano.

As the afternoon progressed the number of towns along the Columbia river increased until eventually we arrived at the small town of Bingen. We’ve learnt not to expect too much from towns with a population less than a couple of thousand, and at 650 we weren’t expecting much from Bingen, so it was with genuine astonishment and delight that we were greeted with a huge McDonald’s billboard on our entrance to the town.
 
As we locked up our bikes a man in his car/ trash can on wheels, began to ask us about our ride and then decided to draw us a map of our route along the river. As we were sipping on milkshakes he came inside and proceeded to walk us through in detail his tatty, hand drawn map on a scrap of cardboard, telling us all the places we should go on our bikes, all of them off route and mostly involving steep climbs. We politely listened even though we had no intention of following any if his suggestions. As he was about to leave he very unexpectedly asked is if we were married and then proceeded to tell us that he was writing a marriage guide for men and he began to describe in detail how to maintain a healthy relationship with your wife. Apparently, amongst other things, you should give her a foot rub every night and ask how her day has been, but please don’t use oils containing aluminium because they are scientifically proven to increase the risk of Alzheimers! No need to thank me when you begin to experience increased happiness in your marriage, just thank the nameless, certifiable nut job who hangs out in McDonald’s in Bingen, Washington.

After this unusual experience we head to the RV park. As I walked out of the shower block I saw Graham chatting to a couple outside a huge RV. Nigel and Jill were a retired couple, originally from England but now living in Florida and travelling around the country in their luxury RV. Having spent most of my nights in the confines of a tiny yellow tent I was curious to know what the inside of one of these massive machines was like. Needless to say it was very impressive, with a spacious living area (the sides of the vehicle extend outwards at the press of a button to provide more space), fully fitted kitchen, bathroom and double bedroom. Nigel and Jill had us stay for dinner, supplied us with beer and wine all night and shared their knowledge of restaurants and cycle routes throughout the country. Having travelled extensively throughout the US they seemed to know the country better than any American we’ve met. This is how I want to spend my retirement! Thank you Nigel and Jill!

Thanks to Nigel and Jill

We had been warned by various people of strong head winds surging up the Columbia river and so it was with some trepidation that we set out. The air was cold but still and within the first 30 miles we lost most of our elevation as we descended towards the massive Columbia river, which opened up before us as a wide red rock gorge.

The permanently wind swept, dry long grass suggested that wind does indeed blow with some force up the river but we seemed to be cycling on one of the few days of the year when it was still. We passed briefly into Oregon before crossing over the river and back into Washington 20 miles on at Umatilla.

Final state!

You know you’re becoming a real cycle tourer when you’re happy to take a three mile detour just for a nice lunch spot, which is exactly what we did at Crow Butte State Park, an island park in the Columbia river. The park was a lush, green oasis in the middle of a dry, windswept valley and we stayed for two hours just relaxing in the shade.

The winds started to pick up so we decided to get the last twenty miles done. As we left the island and got back on the highway we were astonished to find ourselves with a slight tail wind helping us along- a rare phenomenon around here I can assure you. We covered the distance with ease and it was only the last five miles when the wind resumed its standard easterly direction and we began pushing for Roosevelt, which we reached to complete a 111 mile day- our biggest ride yet.

We stopped in at a bar and grill which was full of bikers of the motorized variety. The kitchen wasn’t open, so instead we congratulated ourselves with a well earned beer. Pat had his usual root beer.

Long Haul Trucker- so cool even Harley’s want to get with it.

Dinner consisted of microwave burritos and tinned fruit at the general store which were surprisingly edible. We moved to the city park to find it full of tents and RVs belonging to water sports enthusiasts taking advantage of the winds on the river and also a small summertime Mexican community picking cherries in the hills. The smell of Mexican cooking drifting from across the park had us salivating and all of a sudden our microwave burrito dinners didn’t seem quite so special.

The plan had been to lay sleeping mats on the pavillion floor, but after the park attendant told us to watch our footsteps for rattle snakes during the night, common sense prevailed and we pitched our tents.

I won’t lie, we totally nailed it today and we are all feeling good as the end is in sight!

After yesterday’s gales we decided to leave at 6am in a bid to avoid the wind. It didn’t seem to make much difference though as it was already blowing hard when we started riding. The close sided valley seemed to be acting like a wind tunnel and funneling strong winds into our faces. After 15 miles we came into a more open valley and the wind seemingly took on a mind of its own, switching instantaneously between head, tail and side winds which made for tiring and unpredictable riding.

We passed through the towns of Dayton and Waitsburg before the wind dropped and we were riding through golden wheat fields with beautiful blue skies. It was a low mileage day (56) but we were all tired from the wind and glad to reach Walla Walla.

After grabbing some lunch it was a four mile ride out of town to some more warmshowers people. Our hosts were living on an organic farm and had a camp set up at the end of the garden by a creek, which I took a brief dip in. The camp was set up with a fully working kitchen, outdoor shower and composting toilet. It was a fairly primitive set up, but enough for us to cook a big meal and another reminder of how it’s possible to live with relatively little.

At the organic camp

The morning offered a very pleasant, flat ride alongside the Clearwater River, aided by a nice tailwind for about 30 miles. We hit the twin towns of Lewiston and Clarkston in the early afternoon (named after the early 19th Century explorers Meriwether Lewis and William Clark, who were commissioned by Thomas Jefferson to explore the West following the Louisiana Purchase and whose route we are following) where we crossed into bonus state number ten, Washington.

After a lunchtime McDonald’s session we took on a long hill climb which seemed to go on and on. The descent did not match the climb and we had to pedal hard into strong head winds. We camped for free at an RV park where a local advised on the best spot to pitch our tents behind a tree and warned of potential 70 mph winds during the night. I don’t know how fast the wind got in the end but it was howling until about 3am when I was finally able to get some sleep.

The benefit of hindsight is a wonderful thing and if I could do just one thing differently on this trip it would be to choose a more suitable tent for three months on the road.

Today was one of the most picturesque and scenic rides of the trip. We had ninety miles of downhill, winding road following the Clearwater River, with the ever present backdrop of those steep, pine covered mountains. The weather was sunny but not too hot and there was virtually no wind. It was pretty much a perfect ride!

Along the way we met a guy called Dan Howard. He seemed a little bit crazy, but that’s no surprise when you find out he’s been riding his bike around America for the last 17 years! He was living a vagabond life and seemed completely content to be going from place to place with all his worldly possessions and no final destination.

Now that is a fully loaded bike!

We had dinner in Kooskia and then pushed on a few more miles to Kamiah where we slept on picnic tables under a pavillion in the park. It’s got to the point now where the weather is nice enough to sleep under the stars and any opportunity to not pitch tents is gladly taken.

Missoula is home to the Adventure Cycling Association and it seems that pretty much the only reason the route comes this far north is so you can visit their headquarters. They actually do a very good job of mapping out the country for good cycling routes. Their maps show the route in sections with detailed directions, town information, available amenities, elevation profiles and general information and history on the area you are riding through. It would be much harder to do a tour like this without them and we’ve found them invaluable.

We had been toying with the idea of taking the Lewis and Clark route to the coast, which follows the Columbia river with some spectacular views, goes through Portland and takes you directly to the end point in Astoria. The route also takes you into Washington, a bonus state. It seemed like a no-brainer, so we bought maps for our new route, had a tour of the ACA building, ate our free ice creams (given to touring cyclists) and got back on the road.

During the afternoon we took on Lolo Pass. At the top you cross over into Idaho and switch to Pacific time, our fourth time zone! After that we free wheeled downhill to the campground at Lochsa Lodge, whilst admiring the dense pine covered mountains. On first impressions Idaho seems like a very pretty place.

July 4th, Independence day (yes my blog is that far behind!).

After Micah cooked us breakfast and Kate made muffins we took a drive 30 miles outside the city to the town of Arlee for an Indian Pow Wow and a cowboy rodeo. The Pow Wow involved groups of Native American’s from various tribes dressing up in authentic costume and dancing to a number of different tribal songs. It was a noisy, colourful affair. After this we checked out the rodeo, which I thought was more entertaining. A rodeo consists of cowboys and cowgirls in separate categories, competing and showing off their ability to control their horse, lasso cows, ride bulls and various other fast paced and macho horse related challenges.

We went to a bbq in the evening with a great view over the entire city and watched fireworks displays going on all over the place until midnight.

Thanks to Micah and Kate for putting us up