The scenic detour

And then there was this incredible day. It was one of those days that have a very different ending than you could have imagined the same morning. It is hard to describe it in words or pictures, but I'll try.

We left our great host in Bayside and cycled back to Arcata, which was not far, and Christine could get some new camping equipment, which had gotten lost in the pannier the day before. There was a very cool natural store with lots of organic food and coffee and we spent the morning there, as we were not in a rush. We planned to stay on the main coastal highway 101 for a while, but then leave it to take a scenic detour. We do scenic detours very often to avoid the sometimes busy highway, and a lot of them are described in 'The Book'(*). The one that we planned for today was not in the book, though. But there was a smaller road on the map, that seemed to parallel Highway 101 and led the way along the coast. It looked like this:

Scenic detour (orange road, left) via Ferndale


We had some brief chats to locals about this route, one of them said 'yeah, it's really nice there, but ... I wouldn't wanna cycle there.' We didn't take it very serious, as there are many people who don't like cycling. Others were talking about 'the wall', which is what the locals call the mountain that lies on this route. It is a popular route for a bicycle race that seems to take place from time to time. But we would cycle the tour counterclockwise, so we wouldn't have to go uphill on the steep side of the hill. Everything fine. Also the sign where we entered the road to the scenic detour, saying something about 45 miles (72 km), didn't bother us much, I heard Chris and Christine talking about it, that it is a little strange, as we expected our detour to add another maybe 10 km to our schedule, so it must have meant something else, or the comma was missing, which would make it 4,5 miles, also strange because there are usually no commas on mile signs, but whatever.

We had a lunch break before the hill, luckily.
Then the hill started, and it never ended. It really didn't seem to have a summit. And it was not like the slopes we had had until then. Very narrow, extremely steep winding roads, and another turn and another turn and so on after every turn. And sometimes so steep that I had to walk the bike. At a fake summit, which I thought might be the summit, I asked out loud ' why DID we do this!'. This was the wrong question, it should have been 'why have we started doing this', but I didn't know that this was just the beginning. We were soon distributed along this long road, everyone fighting his way up alone.
Every hill eventually has a real summit, so did this one. I reached it after an eternity. Hoped to see the others there, but didn't. And there was an intersection (approximately at the cross on the map). I spent 5 to 10 minuted there checking all my inexact maps and the signs pointing back to Ferndale (6 miles (10 km)) where the climbing had started, and another one pointing forward to Petrolia (24 miles (39 km)!), which was on none of my maps (the map above was actually in my handlebar bag, I found it some days later). And there was a turnoff to the left. I knew that the highway, which we eventually wanted to return to, was somewhere to the left, but the straight route looked like the main one, and cars were coming from there and heading there (not many, but every now and then). I decided to go straight. The scenery by the way was awesome, but due to all this uncertainty about everything, difficult to enjoy. Very dry, yellow open fields and it really felt like being high up.










And then I had the downhill ride of my life. It didn't look like a slope at all, but there was a strong tail wind, and there must have been a slope, because the computer said 40 km/h and I did nothing. I was occupied with avoiding the numerous pot-holes that shaped the bumpy road. It was incredible. I never had these two feelings at the same time: scared (because I hadn't seen the others for at least an hour or two, the speed was incredible and I didn't know if I had taken the correct way (or whatever was the correct way, at least the one that the others had taken)), and enthusiastic (because of this unique downhill ride, the speed, the scenery, the whole situation). I decided for the latter one and kept talking to myself all the way down (Krass, das ist Wahnsinn, wie geeeeht das, kraaaassss, huuuuui, waaaaa, unglaublich), while constantly concentrating on the pot-holes.



The further I flew down, the more it became clear to me that this was not the last 'hill'. This slope would only lead me into the next valley, and I realized that I was on the way into a kind of huge mountain range.
Then I saw Ross and Chris after this downhill ride was finally over, and I was so glad and relieved to see them. Ross was repairing his breaks, that had given up on the way down. We all had the same astonished expression on our faces. It was certainly not what any of us had expected this detour to be like.
After about 15 minutes, Chris mentioned Christine, and said, hopefully nothing has happened to her. Ross pointed at a car that was approaching and said, that they would probably have seen her and would tell us if something had happened. The car stopped. It was a red pickup. And inside was Christine, and her bike on the back of the pickup. Her breaks had given up as well, but everything was fine. She had hitchhiked down the hill. This hill was the famous 'wall', which now became obvious when looking back.

But it's hard to see on the picture. There is a road.


The couple in the car that had picked up Christine provided us with information about our interesting detour. We were in the middle of the 'Lost Coast', it was another at least 10 Miles (16 km) to Petrolia, where they lived, and which has a campsite a little further. There would be another hill like the one we had passed. And it was impossible to get back to the Highway this day, as there would be more of these 'hills' after Petrolia. It was already past 5 pm and this campsite was what we needed. Jib also gave us his and Janes address in the little town of Petrolia, in case we got lost or needed a beer when getting there.

Jib and Jane turned out to save our day later on. Ross, Chris and me got back on the bikes while Christine had to continue on the pickup, as the brakes wouldn't make the next (down)hill(s). The next hills came and we had to keep going. The extremely bad road conditions didn't make it easier, sometimes unpaved gravel sections. But then the most incredible moment was to see the ocean. We had a long relieving and flat section along the coast in the evening sun which already created long shadows.














Leaving the coast again



There's no downhill without uphill, and soon the road left the coast to climb some more steep slopes. It never seemed to end, and suddenly the red pickup with Jib and Christine appeared! They were concerned that we wouldn't make it before darkness (as the estimated 10 miles to Petrolia had been a little inexact) and had come back to give us a ride. Chris and me didn't hesitate to accept the offer after this day. I was so thankful. Ross (far ahead) had decided to make the last miles on the bike.

The pickup ride was awesome. Chris and me sat at the back and had some mandarins while enjoying the wind and the scenery and every steep hill that we did not have to climb any longer. I didn't feel bad about not riding these last miles by myself. We arrived at Jib and Janes house after 20 minutes, which I don't want to imagine as cycling minutes (hours). Jib provided us with beer and the situation was just overwhelming. Then they allowed us to pitch our tents on their lawn. And the day was more than saved. Ross arrived just before darkness.
We had more beer by the fire, a very nice chat with our incredibly helpful spontaneous hosts. Suddenly, all the struggle of the day was forgotten. And now everything made sense. The strange 45 miles sign, the reactions of some people, the 'wall'.








The next day

Despite the great ending of yesterdays 'detour', we were still in the middle of the lost coast and had to get out of there. The difference to yesterday was: We knew about it. We knew there would be hills today, and we knew where we were, and we started these hills early and not after a late lunch break like yesterday. These are small but very important differences.
To make it even more perfect, our hosts provided us with coffee and pancakes for breakfast.

There was one big hill like the first one of yesterday, this time in the burning sun. Stopping after every turn, in every shade of a tree, drinking water, while trying not to use up too much, as we didn't know when we would have a possibility to refill the water bottles.
The downhill ride was less scary than the day before. Soon we reached 'civilization' and WATER at a campground. We happily discovered that the road led through a valley from now on. This means: it was over!
Hearing the sound of highway 101 almost made me happy for the first time.
We reached the campsite in Humboldt Redwoods State Park and camped beneath big redwood trees.

The detour had eventually taken us two days instead of two hours. In retrospective, it was great.



(*) 'Bicycling the Pacific Coast' by Vicky Spring and Tom Kirkendall. Very useful source of information

In the Redwoods

Northern California is the home of some very big trees, called redwoods. In this region, we saw the coastal redwoods (Sequoia sempervirens, to be biologically precise). After the warm shower host of the last entry, we had two more great warm shower experiences in a row. The next one was in Orick, which is a very small town surrounded by redwood forests. We camped in the yard of Steve, a very unforgettable person. He has seventeen chicken, two goats, a dog and cats, as well as an old yellow school bus in his garden. And: A hot tub (Whirlpool!) in the barn, right next to where the goat lived. I didn't expect to end up in a hot tub when I started this tour. It felt kind of unreal.
We went for a hike through the redwoods. Its hard to describe how big they are, so here are some pictures.



Corkscrew Tree




A small version of a root


Fusion of some trees


From Orick, we had a not too long ride to Bayside, close to Arcada. Although the day was short in terms of distance, a lot happened. As we expected the day to be relaxed, we stopped at a brewery for lunch. The first one was closed, but the detour to the second one was worth it, and we had beer and lunch in the sun. On the way back, Christine had a flat on the highway. She hitchhiked to Arcata, where we all met again, and realised, that one of her front paniers was missing. It must have gone lost on the highway, or in the car that picked her up. We spent some time in Arcata. While Christine repaired the flat and Ross screened the highway for the lost panier, I went to a bikeshop to get a new stove. The panier was not on the highway, and the car was gone, and on the way to Arcata city center, Christine had two more flats.
We were close to the day's destination, Bayside, and decided to end the day for now. The place was awesome. Our host and her family welcomed us, we sat at a fire with some beer. It was a really 'Oeko' place :)

Leaving Crescent City




Coast in northern California




It's hard to describe how a typical day looks like, as every day is unique and so much can happen that I usually forget where I was the same morning. Especially when hopping from private places to very different private places rather than campgrounds. But I'll try to describe a kind of 'typical day', since I have joined Ross, Chris and Christine.
Getting up around 6:30, when it starts to get light. I still need the alarm. Packing stuff, breakfast. Usually being on the bikes at 8ish, depends on the planned distance and on the situation at the place we stayed (sometimes we get breakfast :)
Cycling to the next small town, having a coffee, sometimes supplemented by a second breakfast. Cycling on, stopping, taking pictures, being astonished about the scenery, having a lunch break somewhere where it's nice. Cycling cycling cycling, stopping at a supermarket, cycling and finally arriving at a campground or a warm showers host. Falling asleep early, like 9 or 10 pm, unfortunately it gets dark so early.

Southern Oregon - more details

I didn't expect to have internet again today. Ross has organized another 'warm showers' place for us today, which is in Crescent City, our first destination in California! But I start where I ended last time.

The day after Newport was relaxing. I caught up with the other three after doing the laundry in this cool bikeshop. We passed a sea lion colony! We ended up on another State Park campground after 70 km this day.

Sea lions


Soon, the 'dune section' started. A long part of the Oregon coast with great sand dunes, that you can access from the road. Sometimes, the dunes even come to the road so you don't need to go there.



And if you go into the dunes, it looks like this.



My stove is broken since today, but the others had made some 'Sauerkraut' from a can and shared it with me. It's funny to eat Sauerkraut in America, as I hardly eat it in Germany, even though it's probably the most typical food.
Cycled 83 km. The hiker/biker sites are no longer as crowded like in northern Oregon.

The next day was the second longest so far (130 km). After a coffee break we had a climb across a mountain range called the Seven Devils (reminds me a little bit of the seven sisters in Norway, which we didn't have to cross, luckily...). These seven devils were great. A very dynamic and fast up- and down-ride in the sun, that we hadn't seen for the last two days. After the mountain range, we took a break in Brandon, a city full of bikes, especially racing bikes. The temperature dropped significantly and fog replaced the sun, which soon changed again as we went on. South of Brandon, we saw racing cyclists coming towards Brandon approximately every ten seconds.
There is hardly a break when nobody asks us where we are from and where we are heading. It's a little hard to give one answer for all of us. Different places, different destinations. Sometimes we just say 'south' or 'California' or 'California ... and beyond'. If they want to know more, each of us tells his story. It's cool how interested people are. We attract some attention when we stop in the small towns.

Another 80 km brought us to a campsite near Brookings the next day, the last city before California. The day was great. One big hill followed by several small ones, and lots and lots of viewpoints across the rough coast of Oregon.
We got to Brookings in the early afternoon and ended the day with pizza, beer and ice cream. It's increadible what you can eat when you're cycling. And afterwards, you're still hungry. The barkeeper gave us four more beers to take-away, which we enjoyed while watching the sun set at the beach.






And finally: we reached California today! After crossing the boarder, we expected to be checked for fruit and vegetable import goods. The California border is well protected in terms of this, because they don't want their local flora to be contaminated by 'foreign' fruits etc. But they didn't want to check our bags, instead we were provided with maps and a warm (well, cold and foggy in the beginning) welcome to California.
The scenery was like in Germany: cows and their scent, farms, flat land. Again a mixture of fog and sunshine.



And another funny story: I met Hardy and Alena (www.2radler.de, cycling from Alaska to Argentina) for the third time, coincidentally! They are at the same warm shower host like us. We're camping in the garden.

Oregon Part II

At the campsite north of Newport, I met Ross again, with who I had cycled through Washington for two days. That was pretty funny, as he had taken a long detour to Portland to meet two friends and only a few days later, they caught up with me. This is because I was really slow in northern Oregon and they were really fast. I joined them for the ride towards California.



Oregon is the best state so far, in terms of scenery. The day can start hazy, turn sunny very fast and then foggy, windy and cold again, and end with a warm evening. You never know.















Hiker/Biker campground in the wood






Hope to have more time for some text in the next library.

Photos

Yeeees, there are the photos :)
Most library computers have limited possibilities to connect a camara, upload photos, etc. But yesterday, I spent some hours in a great bikeshop in Newport, that was more than a bikeshop. I did my laundry there, they had a shower and a lounge for exhausted touring cyclists, and a computer (no internet), but I could backup my photos. Here are some of them.

First campsite in the USA, on San Juan Island

Bridge in Washington

Somewhere in southern Washington


Bridge from Washington to Astoria, Oregon

After crossing the bridge

Bikes in tunnel

Climbing a hill


Same hill, after the top, different weather

Some touring bikes taking a break

Sand dunes at the Oregon coast

Oregon Coast
Road after landslide, bikes can pass :)

One way of taking a picture of myself

Oregon Part I

The first day in Oregon was relaxed. Went to McDonalds :) It's pretty much the same like in Germany.
I had only a short ride to the next campground in Fort Stevens State Part around 15 km from Astoria. Met two cyclists there who I had seen some days before in Washington (heading to San Diego as well), and two other individual cyclists. The campsite price have significantly improved the further I get south. 12 $ in Washington and 5-6 $ (around 4 Euro) in all Oregon State Parks for the hiker/biker sites.

The next day I left earlier than the other cyclist, but knew that they were all planning to ride to the same campground that day and there we would meet again. We also met along the way in Seaside. In the afternoon, on top of the last mountain for today, I met Brian, another southbound cyclist on his way to San Diego. We talked a little and found out that we had met pretty much the same people on the way. I told him about who he would meet tonight at the campground, and he knew two of them. We rode together the last kilometers downhill and met the other four right before the entrance of Nehalem Bay State Park. When the 6 of us arrived at the campground, we thought we were many, but what we saw then was incredible. Probably the biggest assembly of cyclists on the forested hiker/biker site. But there was enough space for everybody. Where do they all come from so suddenly? It seems that everyone took different routes through Washington or wherever they came from, but the Oregon coast is a place where everyone takes more or less the same route, as it is supposed to be the most beautiful part of the Pacific Coast.
We lit a fire as it was really cold. Cycled 74 km.

I decided to join the patchwork group of the four cyclists from yesterday, for the ride to Cape Lookout State Park today. We had some free coffee at the campground information before leaving. The whole day was more hazy than sunny. The speed of this group was perfect, not too fast and not too slow. We stopped a few times when the scenery made us stop to take some pictures. At Tillamook we visited a cheese factory where the famous Tillamook cheese is produced. Visitors could look inside the factory and try some free samples. Of course we also had to try the Tillamook ice cream. One scoop is as big as a tennis ball, which is normal for american ice cream.
A very scenic route led us across long hills and beautiful views, two small side trips to a lighthouse and an 800 year old spruce tree, which was extremely high and large and big. We passed a closed road that had partly vanished due to a landslide in July. For bikes it was possible to pass on the remaining lane, though.
The Cape Lookout State Park hiker/biker camp was kind of full when we arrived. First, we decided to camp on the nearby day-use area, and when I had just pitched my tent, a park ranger told us that we couldn't camp here. But we were sent to the close-by group camp area, which was even much better than the hiker/biker sites between the trees. Another 5-6 cyclists arriving late were sent here, even more than yesterday. The site was so close to the ocean like none of the other sites before. Cycled 80 km.

The patchwork group partly split up the next day, some of them went to Newport (90 km), I only wanted to reach Devil's Lake State Park this day (60 km). In terms of climate and landscape, this day was unique. Right after the Capground I had a steep misty uphill ride, some sunbeams made it through the fog and trees from time to time, that was very impressive. Met another touring cyclist on the way to the top. I should stop mentioning every single cyclist I meet. Gets a bit confusing.
Right after the top of the mountain it was suddenly clear, blue sky and sunny. I stopped at a beach at Cape Kiwanda and climbed the sand dunes.
Another hill just before the end of the day and I reached the Campground near Lincoln City. There were 'only' four other cyclists this time, and later the cyclist from the hill this morning arrived, too.

Now I'm in Newport (only a 33 km ride from Devil's Lake), taking a day off on a campsite north of the city. Unfortunately it's sunday, so I can't check out the famous bike shop that everyone is talking about. I seems to be specialized to the needs of touring cyclists, with laundry facilities, internet and so on. I'll try to get there tomorrow.

Through Washington

It's been a week now without internet, and the wind has blown me through Washington quite fast.
I left Victoria and took the beautiful bike path again, up to Sidney where the ferry departs to the USA. I had decided to take a detour across San Juan Island and the ferry departs only once a day, at 6 pm. It arrived on the island at 7:20 pm and I had to rush to get to the campground before it got dark. After three people on the ferry had recommended me to take the first campground and not the one on the other side of the island, I believed them and stopped at the first one at 8 pm, and could just pitch the tent before darkness. It was a good idea to go here. The next day I explored the island. There are two historical places, the English and the American Camp, where settlers lived some time ago until the San Juan Islands were taken by the Americans. That was pretty interesting, as some of the old houses were still standing there. On a whale watching point I watched for whales, but didn't see any. The island was beautiful. Blackberries all over the place.
I headed to back the ferry dock where another ferry took me to Anacortes on the almost mainland of Washington. This day and the next one were relaxing and not too much happened. Since I'm in the States, the nights are extremely cold, but during the day I can warm up in the sun.
On Friday the tail wind started. I made 125 km this day and was just pushed across the freeway without doing much. That was cool. I got used to all the traffic by now, and these really big freeways are rather rare. I think despite the traffic it might even be safer that a narrow winding road, because the freeways have a wide shoulder, like a bike lane just for me!
And since then I'm eventually meeting other cyclists. It started with a very-long-distance-cyclist on the hiker/biker site on Twin Harbors State Park Campground who is on the bike since 4 month. As we were heading in the same direction, we decided to ride together the next day. And this day was very fast. We got up early and made it to Cape Disappointment Campground, 130 km, yeah. It was exhausting, but a very cool day. No tail wind, though. The hiker/biker site there was very communicative, no separate spaces, just a big meadow. There we met two other cyclists on their way down the coast. We lit a fire and had some very american grilled marshmallows.
The two others took the next day off, Ross and me headed on to Astoria, where he had a place to stay at some 'warm shower people'. This is something like couchsurfing, but just for cyclists. He called them and asked if he can bring another person, and it was no problem. This day was quite short and we had plenty of time in the morning to hike a short trail to a lighthouse at Cape Disappointment. The name comes from the disappointed sailors who had a hard time entering the strait a long time ago, which apparently made them disappointed.
Around two weeks ago I had met two german cyclists when I was around two days north of Vancouver. They came from the ferry when I went on it and we just had a short time to exchange some informaton. They are on their way to Argentina. And as the world is small, we met them again today! Had some more time today to talk and for the next couple of kilometers to Oregon, we were four. A tunnel came and it felt like in Norway! There is a button in front of tunnels that cyclists can press, then a light warns the car drivers that there are cyclists in the tunnel. This is great.
We crossed a very long bridge and entered the first city of Oregon, Astoria. The other two continued south while we pushed the bikes up a very steep hill to the 'warm showers'. Had a great warm shower there!
Today, our routes separate, as Ross is heading towards Portland, I'm curious about who of all the cyclists I'll meet again at the coast. After three long more-than-100-km-days in Washington, I'll slow down in Oregon. Hopefully I can upload some pictures soon.