Chet Rideout – Port Townsend, WA
I looked at Jason Reber’s knee during preparations for dinner and the swelling looked a lot worse. The climbing of the last few days had strained it, and he had a nasty fluid buildup. I said, “That knee is going to be trouble if we continue the ride, don’t you think?”
It was September 2006 at Bruceport County Park, Washington, five days into a ride from Port Townsend, Washington, to San Francisco along the spectacular Pacific coast. It was only a day’s ride to the Oregon border, but Jason and I found our problems were increasing. We figured his knee would need at least a week of recovery time, and I learned my wife Lynn’s medical problems required surgery. Also the Burley Company, which had supplied me with a Koosah recumbent and two Nomad cargo trailers for the trip in exchange for a story, had just gotten out of the bicycle business, now selling only trailers. Any strong argument for continuing the ride this year had evaporated. After a sit-down talk, we reluctantly decided to “pull the plug” and called our friend Bill to drive us home the next day.
I had planned to change bikes, so during the winter I tried out several short wheelbase recumbents and hoped to do the ride during the next summer. My Italian friend, Piero Tassinari, was ready for a new adventure, but he was only able to spare two weeks. He also wanted his friend Diego Bassi to join us. I managed to talk them into three weeks, and I inherited another job – shopping for bicycles for them to use on the tour.
I was now riding a used Lightning Stealth (now the Lightning Phantom, RTR summer 2008), and I managed to get Piero another one in his size. Diego was easier, wanting an inexpensive upright. Now, with the bikes, two Burley Nomad trailers, my well-used BOB trailer and my camping equipment, we were ready for the tour. Piero and Diego would board the airplane in Italy with only carry-on luggage.
With our fully-loaded car and utility trailer, Lynn and I waited during a July night in 2007 for the jet-lagged Italians at SeaTac Airport. Their 8:55 pm flight didn’t arrive until 1:00 am after which we drove south to a motel. After less than 5 hours of sleep, we consumed several breakfast rolls and lots of coffee and drove to our start in Astoria.
The route we planned to follow is one of the most beautiful and popular tours in North America so we knew there would be plenty of traffic on the road. I had the Adventure Cycling maps and a copy of “Bicycling the Pacific Coast” by Kirkendall and Spring. As is universally suggested, we were heading from north to south so the prevailing winds could push us down the Pacific coast.
Lynn drove south to camp with us on our first night so our first day’s ride was a light one. In camp, mounds of equipment emerged from the car and trailer and I gave crash courses on bike trailer and tent assembly. We enjoyed the sleep of the just-plain-tired that night, but I was awakened at daybreak by a thud on the tent where a small raccoon had dropped from the tree above. With a swat on the tent wall I returned him to terra firma and sat up, completely awake, now feeling like the tour had begun in earnest. We loaded up and biked to Cannon Beach where Lynn joined us for breakfast. We then said our goodbyes and she drove north.
We fell into a schedule which included rising at 6:00 am, being on the road by 7:00 (so we could miss the worst of the heavy afternoon traffic), and sitting down to a big breakfast at around 8:30. Lunch varied, but was usually a smaller meal often eaten on the road. Since we were riding 40 to 50 miles per day, we had plenty of time for sightseeing.
Our plan was to stay at hiker/biker campsites in state parks along the coast, often far from the nearest town so we would cook supper at the campground. Although these state parks often were full, no self-propelled person is ever turned away from hiker/biker sites. The $4 per person price includes a picnic table and a hot shower. The sites are often separated from campsites used by car campers and RVs, so there is a minimum of motor noise and slamming doors.
Bicycle travel is appealing, simple, and inexpensive, and it also is excellent aerobic exercise. Calculated by comparing our food intake with gasoline calories, I figured we were traveling about 550 miles per gallon, and our fuel simply required eating larger helpings!
As we had found in my many prior bike tours, riding at the relaxed pace of a bicycle helped us to fully take in the amazing scenery. Ahead of us was 860 miles of freedom and adventure. The coastal roads wound along the beautiful Pacific, sweeping us through small towns with their individual oddities. At bicycle speeds, it is easy to pull over to see and photograph the scenic vistas. The tension of the last few days seemed to melt away with each pedal stroke.
At our next camp, Nehalem Bay State Park, we met Dana Johnson. We crossed paths again at the Tillimook Cheese Factory and at our next camp at Cape Lookout State Park. We found that she rode at our pace and we had the same destination. We enjoyed each other’s company, so we joined forces.
During my earlier tours with Piero, I had done all the cooking. It seems that Italian men are well-fed by mothers, mother-in-laws, and wives and they don’t often delve into the culinary realm. Piero and Diego, therefore, worked cleanup duty while I handled the cooking and meal planning. When Dana joined us, we had the use of two stoves, and she was by far the better cook. Together, she and I offered more variety – one supper featuring spaghetti with meatballs was especially memorable!
A storm arrived at Cape Lookout. Unfortunately, when flying my kite on the beach I found that it flew on a stiff wind blowing from south to north. The winds continued in that direction for about a week. We found that all is not as advertised in the guide books. With the onset of this storm, we were climbing hills as well as working against the northbound winds.
Oregon has 400 miles of rugged coastline, with sand dunes, forests, and rugged rocky headlands. The ocean is well-populated with sea stacks, the eroded remnants of these headlands. We found the sandy areas to be relatively flat riding, but whenever we saw sea stacks ahead it meant we would be climbing up and over another rocky headland. Dense forests of hemlock, cedar, and Douglas fir alternated with the dune areas.
We left Cape Lookout on a misty morning, starting the day with a stiff climb in light rain. As we rode through the cool windy weather we took in the sights – the cliffs at Cape Kiwanda, Devil’s Lake, the Oregon State Aquarium at Newport, Cape Foulweather, and the Yaquina Lighthouse National Wildlife Preserve. The steep rocky islets at the Yaquina preserve are a haven for sea birds; cormorants, common murres, and tufted puffins crowd these safe nesting areas. A whale could be seen spouting offshore, and seals reposed like driftwood on the lower rocks.
The climb over Cape Perpetua was a challenge on narrow roads, with 1500 feet of vertical climbing. A hiker warned us about the upcoming tunnel – there were no shoulders and the tunnel was an uphill ride. Although flashing lights at the entrance can be turned on by cyclists, I flagged down a car and the driver helpfully followed us through the tunnel with her flashers turned on.
We explored Honeyman Dunes, climbing and watching the sand boarders slide down the steep sand dunes. The next morning we were reacquainted with the rain cycle and had to walk our bikes across the Coos Bay Bridge. At Sunset Park, we had a lot of company at the hiker/biker site; it looked like a colorful high-tech hippie colony, with crowded tents and bicycles.
At Humbug Mountain State Park the rains were heavy at night, and our little band of cyclists rode our last full day on the Oregon Coast. South of Gold Beach we visited viewpoints for the sea stacks, some with arches. From the cliffs, we watched (through patchy fog) as sea lions basked below. More rain was forecast that evening so we rented a motel room in Brookings, moving our trailers inside as the rain poured down.
The next day was dry, and finally the winds changed direction, becoming a help instead of a hindrance. As we rolled south into California we looked forward to seeing the redwood forests – the tallest and oldest trees in the world. In these moist forests, often blanketed by rolling fogs from the ocean, trees have been found to be from 5 to 13 centuries old. The tallest among them was measured at 367 feet; they are not as massive but they are taller than their cousins, the Sequoias. After breakfast we rode into Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park; we were awed by the size of the giants in this natural cathedral, and our hiker/biker site was nestled among some of the most magnificent trees in the park.
During much of the rest of our ride we would be in other redwood groves, but what is left is only a remnant of the original forests – perhaps 1/7 of the original acreage remains. These trees survive to great ages because of their resistance to fires, disease, and insects, but they have proven to be quite susceptible to chain saws. The very reasons for their longevity make their wonderful wood attractive for back yard decks and lawn furniture.
The next day we entered Crescent City and looked for a breakfast spot. A local informed us that there was no way we would make it through the upcoming mountains with our rigs, but Dana straightened him out on that score. He was right, however, that the following days would be tough. After breakfast we climbed to 1100 feet altitude, coasted down almost to sea level, and climbed again to 900 feet – according to Piero’s altimeter a gain of 2400 vertical feet for the day! The payoff was the gradual downhill slope to our campground where we coasted for five miles through the primeval forest, soaking in the natural beauty and quiet of the giant trees. At Prairie Creek Redwoods, we had sunny, dry conditions, and we finally managed to completely dry out our tents.
We left at 7:00 am, passing perhaps a dozen deer and possibly 75 elk, including a herd of huge bulls. Our ride led us to Trinidad, a beautiful seaside town on a sheltered bay where we enjoyed a bowl of chowder. Here we did our first freeway riding, we camped at a KOA, and visited the bike shop in Henderson to solve our various wheel and tire issues. We put in some fast miles along the interstate, but finally turned off at Pepperwood onto the spectacular Avenue of the Giants.
On a hot day two days later, we turned off 101 onto Highway 1, and geared down for a tough climb up Leggett Hill which reaches 1,950 feet above sea level. This climb, and Rockport Hill which follows it, are legendary with cyclists; what is less often discussed are the long, exhilarating downhills through the forest which follow each climb, leading you back to the coast and into cooler temperatures.
Highway 1 is narrower than 101, and we left behind the expressway traffic. Now we were again enjoying a scenic drive along the Pacific shore. At MacKerricher Beach State Park, we rode down to the sandy beach after setting camp and enjoyed the active surf and the setting sun.
During the days that followed, we were really tested by continuous climbs and long miles, registering 3,000 vertical feet of climbing daily. At our coastal stops we often watched brown pelicans gliding regally by in formation. At Fort Ross there was a heritage festival commemorating the settling of the area by Russians, Alaskan natives, and the native Indians. During our visit we overheard so many conversations in Russian that we felt we had left the United States behind.
Beyond the Bodega Dunes we rode inland past hilly ranches, regaining a view of the ocean at Tomales Bay. The San Andreas Fault runs up the center of the bay, which points the way to San Francisco. Just before Point Reyes Station, we turned onto some back roads and headed into Samuel Taylor State Park. This was our last campground in the big trees, and we didn’t adequately police our camp. A raccoon family visited our picnic table in the wee hours, and (with gusto and quite a commotion) ate all of our remaining power bars.
On a sunny Monday morning we followed the Adventure Cycling route, working our way south to Sausalito. After one last climb, we entered the visitor area before the Golden Gate Bridge. The fog blew across the passage, partially obscuring the towers. After taking many photos, we crossed the bridge passing hundreds of cyclists on rental bicycles on their way to Sausalito and a ferry return connection.
After our crossing, we worked our way to the Oakland Ferry and said our goodbyes to Dana. At the Amtrak station, we unloaded our bikes and trailers and boxed and checked our equipment. Finally, we boarded the Coast Starlight train for a relaxing trip back to Seattle. This experience was great for the Italians, giving them a chance to carry on discussions with a variety of Americans about their life and experiences. Later that day as I sat with Piero on the dome car, we talked about our ride and how different it felt to be traveling effortlessly with the rhythm of the rails, gazing out at the scenery as we rolled north.