Rush Order

I have a limited time to write what seems like it would take me a lifetime. I had planned to spend the next 5 hours here in the library, but apparently you can only get one hour of computer time a day here, and the man at the reference desk is pretty stern about it. I had to fight with myself to accept the situation, and not kick up a fuss. All I have wanted to do for the past day or so is write and write. I do however, have my notebook, and so many notes have made their way in there in the past day or so.... at least I know I won't forget.

I think I left you all at the casino. Woke up in the morning in the beautiful sunshine, and made my way back the gas station to top off my air... recreating the rig that the engineer and I had come up with, because I still couldn't make heads or tails of my pump.

It's so hard to talk about a day of riding, because the mountains pass, and my head gets so full of air, it feels like I might as well want to talk about spending the day in the pool. The scenery changes, but there I am in the middle of it, pulling stroke after stroke.

Good weather treats me well. I had a hard days ride, and didn't think I would make it into Newport until 5pm. I made it in by 3, long before I had told me host to expect me... so I sat down at a coffeehouse in the sunshine, and fell a little in love with Newport, Oregon.

While I sat, with a killer turkey sandwich and a cup of black coffee, I made pals with a hippie kid just a little older than myself.... asked him about the town, and the surf, and himself. While we talked, a local kid got arrested right across the street... one of three brothers... the other two standing around to question the arrest, the cops, etc... One of them owned the shop. The guy I'm talking to laughs and says, "Just when I thought I could put away my 'Free Mario!' t-shirt, they come and take him away again." Everyone knows everyone, and no one is surprised, just raising their eyebrows and asking... "what now?"

I pulled out my guitar and worked out the kinks in a new song I'de been stringing together at my campsite the night before...

Oh lord, see there I go. I've skipped a whole day, a campsite, a town... and the people at a local diner. The biggest pancakes I'de ever eaten. See, the wind and the air get to me. I can trace and re-trace my steps, but the story is starting to wind together. It makes me wish I had more opportunities to sit and write. And here I am, typing against the clock.

Before I hit Newport, I had to summit my first tiny mountain pass of the trip. I took the easier of many passes through the coastla mountain range, but man did it kick my ass. As I made my way uphill, I started taking breaks about every 200 yards. I would set little markers for myself: JUst make it to the end of that guardrail.... Just make it around that bend. When I hit the summit... only 700 feet! I couldn't believe it. It hadn't taken as long as I expected.... and the ride down and afterwards was beuatiful.

The air coming downhill was so still, and I was hitting a good 22 miles per hour without any wind, so I could go as fast as a liked. Coming around a bend, a heard a dog getting closer and closer, and then it was right on my heels. I had been warned that dogs chase bikes in small towns, and I have a tiny canister of mace in case I meet a mean one. This however, was a beautiful marble pitbull mix with stunning blue eyes... I was more worried for it's safety than my own. I rememebered one biker told me that stopping is sometimes your best option to keep the dog, and yourself safe, so I pulled over. The dog was so sweet! It was looking at me like it wanted to come along for the ride, and I pet her/ him for a minute and then very sternly pointed and said "Go home!". The dog bounded right down the road towards it's home, where it's owener stood hollering. I had to wave frantically to warn a truck to slow down, and my heart almost stopped. The dog got home okay. My heartbeat returned to normal, and I got back to my downhill jaunt.

I soon found myself at the same little town (tiny!) that we had stopped at when Bria and I and friends went to the beach for Bria's birthday weekend. A little town called Otis. I really enjoyed the feeling of arriving somewhere fairly distant from home that I recognized from an adventure by car. I made me feel like I was really getting somewhere. I stopped in Otis, still a few miles shy of my days destination, and filled up on the most massive pancakes I had ever seen in my life. This little matchbox sized diner.... such great food, and the people were great.

I was teasing with the cook, and he offered me a ride to my campsite in LIncoln City. I accepted, bientg full and happy, having had plenty for the day. I have decided not to feel guilty, or like I am cheating when I take rides from people. I am covereing so much ground... I'm considering it all just part of the adventure.

I think the cooks name was Jim, but I'll be honest, I've met so many people since then, I can hardly be sure. It was a quick ride, so I didn't get to talk to him much. He's been part of the festival circuit in the area for a long time, cooking food for big concerts. I wish I could pull my memeory together for something more substantial, but thats it. I;m starting to wish I was wearing a wire, for all the good stories I hear that slip my mind.

He dropped me off at Devil's Lake State Park campground. A luxury campground if there ever was one. I got a hot shower, and used my campstove for the first time without any trouble. I had the whole hiker/biker site to myself, so I took time in the morning, rearranging my gear and getting back on the road feeling fresh and organized.

Back to Newport now... I got in touch with the roommate of my host and headed over to their place. I stopped at the park on one side of the Yaquina Bay Bridge to call, and then found myself later, right on the opposite side of the bridge, on Julie and Jamie's back patio, looking out over the water.

I met Julie on couchsurfing.com, which is a pretty incredible resource for travellers. Julie specifically opens her home to bike travellers touring the coast. Her and Jamie are both involved with marine life sciences, and has some great stories to tell. Julie having bike toured all through Spain and Thailand, and Jamie having worked up on the ice in Alaska with the wildlife. She's even seen Polar Bears in the wild... which is so scary to me, and amazing. After that one morning waking up in the snow, I am amazed with winter campers. They are a tough lot.

Both of these ladies were headed out the next day to different travel destinations, so we had a hell of a time cleaning out the fridge and making a giant salad for dinner. We ate ourselves full and happy and then Julie and I headed into town to a local open mic night, right across from the cafe I'de been to that afternoon.

The open mic at Cafe Mundo in Newport is a local experience, for sure. There's a good group who attend weekly, and I saw a lot of the same characters there that I had met in town that afternoon. One local guy, I think his name was Dennis... He had sat with me earlier that day and listened to me play... and of course he knew Julie, and her friend also, who we had picked up on the way into town. He said he would stick around to hear me play, because he liked what he had heard that day, which was flattering.

I played a decent set, tired as I was, and sold a few CD's, and gave away lots of stickers. I made a few dollars, which was nice for a change, with all the money I've had going out lately. They wanted me to play a little more later on, but I was exhausted, and so were my friends, so we headed back to Julie's place to crash.

I want to tell you so much more... but I feel doomed by the clock today, and really want to make good time, and get to where I am right now, before they kick me out of the library.

The next morning Julie dropped me at the Oregon Coast Aquarium, where I meditated in the shark tank for a good while, and looked at the depressed sea otters... and the esctatic seals. I listened to the kids screaming excitedly. It's a familiar sound... like the zoo, or an amusement park, but smaller and a little sweeter. I like hearing kids ooh and aww over the wildlife... even if it is contained and strange. The way humans put their own environment under glass will always fascinate me.

I moved on when I was content I'd spent enough time with the sharks... they are so cool. I'm sort of scared of sharks, being as in love with surfing as I am... and because of that I am a bit in awe of them. I could watch them for hours... but I had a ride to get on with, so I stepped up my pace, and walked back to Julie's. Paked up, said goodbye, and I was on my way.

I had looked at the map and thought this was going to be a slightly easier ride, but boy was I wrong. The headwinds were at me all day, and I felt like I was swimming upstream. The views, however, were astounding, and I was pretty happy the whole ride, keeping a steady pace, and ever so grateful for another day of sun.

I rolled into Yachats craving pancakes. I mean really. craving. pancakes. I was even singing a pancake song to myself. Not very catchy. Something like "when I get to town I'm going to eat paaaancakes". It won't be going on my next CD.

I was checking out the local restaurants, looking for an all-day breakfast type place, when a car pulled up next to me and a man hollered "Malcolm!". I looked over my shoulder and sure enough, there was this older hippie fellow who had played the open mic the night before. He warned me that the next pass was too dangerous to take that late in the day, and I said I knew... I just wanted to eat and then make it up the hill to the next campgrounds. He offered a cup of coffee and I accepted, leading me into a restaurant that had no pancakes in the evening, but some really good burgers. I settled.

I had a great talk with Greg, hearing all about his life and struggles, which I wont get into here. He'd known the area for a long while, and tried to help me find a gig for the night, but alas... it was Friday, and everyone was booked. The night was wearing on, and I started to really worry about the pass up to the campgrounds. I had heard it was a really rough ride, and everyone kept telling me I should stay in town for the night. Nervous, and feeling a little defeated, I gave in and got a hotel room. Just barely, too! Spring break has started and there was hardly a room anywhere. The place I found was affordable enough, and they gave me a ten dollar "taking-that-pass-tonight-is-too-damn-dangerous" discount.

Well, I couldn't complain... they had a warm indoor pool with orca whales painted on the walls. I was the only one down there for a good while... It felt like an old YMCA, with concrete walls and not much light. Just a big cozy basement with a pool and a few windows looking over the mountain. I did a few laps, using the last of my energy, and did some of what I like to call my "floating meditation"... which maybe I will explain some other time. Then I headed back to the room to take advantage of the shower, the space, and even the TV.... watching a pointless movie until I finally gave in and passed out.

The next morning the storm had hit hard, as promised, so I started the day by fortifying myself with the pancakes I had been left craving the night before. I was not disappointed. If you ever travel this coast, and pass through Yachats, Oregon... you should certainly stop at the Landmark for a bite. The restaurant practically hangs over the bay, with views on all side, and the food is just fine. I talked to my mother for awhile on the phone, and ate my weight, and then got ready for a long, wet, day.

The storm was brutal. I started the day straight uphill and was doing incredibly well, considering the winds I hit every time the trees opened up and faced the road to the ocean. These are the most breathtaking views on the Oregon Coast, I am sure of it, and also the hardest to ride. The wind was nearly taking me off the road, which is hard on even the lovliest of days. And it was getting harder. Really... harder... too hard in fact. I checked for a flat up front, and then looked down the back and sure enough... my tire was blown.

I am proud of myself, because I fixed that flat in the rain without ever asking a driver for help. I worked away, found the hole, got everything patched up, and I was on my way again. It had taken me the better part of the hour, however, and I was starting to worry about making it to Florence in the time I had laid out.

I started again up the hill and the wind nearly knocked me out again. Then my gears went all kinds of crazy, and I thought maybe I had done something wrong. Before I even had time to think about it, my thumb flew out when a truck was coming by, and I had hauled into the back of a pickup, and was riding in the rain, quickly, over the road I had meant for my days ride.

When I saw what was ahead of me, I was sure grateful for that truck. The most impressive views, and the most impressive hills. The road seemed to go on forever... the slowest 25 miles imaginable. I started to wonder if they measure the road my distance travelled, instead of the length of the actual road... and decided that this must be a forty mile stretch of road that covers 25 miles of the coast.

The couple that picked me up asked me where I wanted to go, and I said 8th street. That was the location of the AA meeting I wanted to hit in Floronce at 5:30. They left me there without much to say. Nice folks, for sure, and I realized to my amazement, that right there on 8th, near the meeting, was a Bike and Guitar Shop.

I spent the better part of the day hanging in the shop with Jim and Sarah, who declared my bike just fine, after re-adjusting my brakes, and showing me how to take off my back tire without throwing them out. I played the guitar, re-organized my gear, had coffee and donuts, and then headed over to a little meeting down the street.

This is where I wish I has 2 more hours to write. I cant even begin to explain how held I feel here in Florence.... how many amazing stories I have heard today, or last night, and how happy I am here. I have been taken in, out of the storm, and will stay again tonight. I am staying with Alice... the kindest, coolest lady I've met in some time. I have notes... pages of my notebook to share about last night, from 5:30 on, until today. It's all too warm in my heart to rush through, so I'll stop here and save this for another day. I will however say that I love people. I love their stories and their energy. I love what people do for each other, and how warm they can be if they want to. With nearly 50 years difference in our ages, I consider Alice already a dear friend. I am blessed with all the love and support a person could want, and am having quite an adventure, both physically and spiritually, as I imagined I would.

So if you've seen the weather reports, and you know the universe is "putting on a good show" out here on the coast... as they say... don't worry about me a bit. I'll be back on the road tomorrow, but for now I'm spending time with some good people, and just enjoying life, and this journey, at my own little snails pace.

If I can find another computer today, I will gladly write more, and maybe even edit this up a bit. For now however, I have to dodge the strict librarian, and I'm signing off.

All my love,
Malcolm