Pt. Arena, CA

Nov. 30. Tonight finds us at a KOA campground, or Kampground, as they say. Since a big windstorm is predicted to move in tonight around midnight, we decided to splurge on a Kamping Kabin. The darn thing costs as much as a decent motel room back in Washington. 58 dollars a night to be exact. I didn't balk too much though, especially when I found out that the office internet wireless network would reach Kabin number 18. Sold! Actually, this is one of the most beautiful KOA's I have seen. It is very big, and the trees all mature. They have given each campspot enough space to have a little privacy, though at this time of the year, the place is nearly empty. Our Kabin is a one room bunkhouse with a covered porch, a porch swing, a picnic table and a fire ring outside. Inside the decor is wood from the floor to the ceiling, with a double bed and two bunks. One stool and a small table to use for whatever. The wind is already starting to build outside. I am glad to be inside, warm and dry. Time to start dinner.

Ron.
California raccoons are bolder than Oregon raccoons, but not as fat. We had three eating our raisens and then trying to come into our cabin after I took the food away. Candy

Elk, CA

Nov. 29th. After climbing up out the hole we were in at the Albion River Campground, we pedaled only about 10 miles to Elk and decided to spend the night there, as there was a state park. It was for day use only but we made some local inquiries and found that if we camped there no one would make a fuss, as long as we didn't call attention to ourselves. We found a great spot high on a cliff behind a wooden railing, overlooking the surf crashing below. After a dinner of my scratch beef stew, we turned in at 6:30. I offered to whip Candy at gin rummy again, but she declined, wanting to get to bed. We both slept very well, drifting off to the crashing of the waves about 170 feet below.

Ron.

Albion

Nov. 28. Albion River Campground. Well, I knew it was going to happen sooner or later. We are in our tent waiting out a day long downpour. Or maybe a two day-er. Can’t complain too much though, as the last 3 weeks have been really good weather for us. It is 2pm and Candy has caught a ride back to Mendocino with the owner of the campground so that we can access our bank account and pay for our stay here. We arrived with precious little cash, then found out that they are not set up to take plastic. Note to self: Always keep 60 or 70 dollars in cash on you. I hope she can also do a little shopping, as we could use a few of the necessaries. Like some fruit, paper towels, wet wipes, and maybe a book for me to read. We were in Mendocino yesterday. We took a little U-shaped detour through the town and I came to the conclusion that it’s just another one of those precious little Artsy-Fartsy coastal villages like Manzanita or Cannon Beach up in Oregon. During our brief swing through town, we met a couple (Sherri and Phil, that is Sherri in the picture, taken in Mendocino) on bikes that were very interested in our setup and our trip. I hope they log on and post a hello to us. We also noticed that the sewage treatment plant is right up against the town, and we could smell it when we got within a block or so. Tsk, tsk, all that expensive real estate smells like you-know-what. Although they do have a bike shop.

It is raining so hard that we are able to collect all the water we need for cooking and drinking by setting up some pots under the edge of the rain fly. Filled up the 2-quarter within an hour. I am really glad now that Candy insisted on a larger tent. I have room to cook in here without disassembling my bed. And we can move around without crashing up against each other.

I think we will probably be taking some time to go back to Silverlake for Christmas, as Candy’s dad has had another mild heart attack. I think we may make it to San Fran, find a place to store our trike and equipment, then catch the Amtrak up to Portland. I don’t see this as an end to our odyssey, just a minor interruption.

Our campground here on the Albion River is way down off the highway, in the bottom of a gorge. The bridge across is very high and of timbered construction. If it weren’t raining so hard I would like to get a closer look at it, as that sort of thing interests me. One thing we are concerned about is getting out of here. The road into the campground is a 14% grade, maybe a quarter mile long. I think we can climb back out on the trike, very slowly. At first, we were going to stay in an inn up on the highway because of this. But when we checked their rates, we decided we could handle the hill easier than the bill. Two hundred dollars a night, no tv, no phone, no internet. We can get that for 10 dollars a night right where we are.

Ron

PS, I never the left the tent from the time I got in it on the afternoon of the 27th till the morning of the 29th. I cooked in the tent and we have figured out a potty system for the vestibule, outside the tent living area, but still enclosed. All day on the 28th it rained so hard that sometimes I could not hear Candy talking to me. Oh yeah, Candy taught me to play gin rummy on the evening of the 28th. After two practice games, I whipped her for the next three games, har har.

Ft. Bragg

Nov. 26. Today we are in Ft. Bragg, CA. We stopped at the towns’ cycle shop to get a broken spoke repaired, buy a spare tire and tube to replace our spares that we used a few days ago. As we were getting ready to leave the cycle shop, Candy commented that the stores employees seemed kind of “snotty” to her. I also picked up on the vibe. I attribute the superior attitude to a lack of knowledge and a lack of imagination. Lifelong diamond frame “ass hatchet” riders lack the imagination to see themselves riding a recumbent. They also lack the knowledge of what sitting on that narrow seat for many hours each year can do to the blood vessels and nerves in that area between the anus and the scrotum. It is know known beyond doubt that long term compression of this area, which was never meant to support a mans weight while sitting, damages the blood vessels and nerves that supply the penis, and will eventually cause impotence in a certain number of riders. That single fact is enough to make me wonder why men continue to ride uprights. I quote from the article "In men, a sheath in the perineum, called Alcock's canal, contains an artery and a nerve that supply the penis with blood and sensation. The canal runs along the side of a bone, Dr. Goldstein said, and when a cyclist sits hard on a narrow saddle, the artery and the nerve are compressed. Over time, a reduction of blood flow can mean that there is not enough pressure to achieve full erection."

Yesterday morning we left Laytonville at 11:30 and headed west for the coast on Branscombe road. The first part of the ride was really great. After one long hill at a 10% grade we had a gentle 8 mile glide down into the sawmill town of Branscombe, population about 100. It was great, to be able ride downhill for a long period of time. We were feeling good. When we left Laytonville our elevation was about 1750, and when we reached Branscombe the elevation was about 1550. I naively assumed that we would continue to go downhill the last 14 miles to the coast. One of the ladies at the store in Branscombe told us that it was uphill the rest of the way to the coast. I kind of brushed it off, thinking that since we were already at 1500 feet, how could it be uphill to the coast? Immediately after we left the town, we started a series short climbs and downhills, more or less staying at the same elevation. Then, with about 8 or 9 miles left, we started up a hill that seemed like the rest. Except that it was steeper than normal. Much steeper. A 10% grade for sure. I’m glad I didn’t know what we were in for. It was getting late in the day and we had unknowingly committed to climb this hill. We had passed several likely looking spots where we could have camped a little earlier, but now there was no place. On the left side of the road it was straight down, on the right side, straight up. It was just one sharp, steep curve after another with the top never coming into view. We got so tired that we had to stop and rest for a minute or two about every 50 yards. When I finally spotted the top we both felt so relieved. If we hadn’t been so tired, we might have stopped and done a little jig in the middle of the road. Then we came to sign warning drivers of a 2.5 mile descent at a 10% grade. For those of you who don’t know, this means a ten foot drop or rise per hundred feet traveled. A 6% grade is considered pretty steep. We had to use all three of our disc brakes, pumping them so as not to overheat them, to keep our speed low enough to safely negotiate the sharp turns. It was a wild ride down, with one stop to let the brakes cool. We were descending from 2000 feet to sea level with many sharp turns, trying to maintain our speed at 20 mph. Finally, as we neared the bottom, we could smell the ocean. We were finally on that highway known to cyclists the world over, California state highway 1. About a mile after we intersected with 1, we arrived at a private campground and gladly paid the exorbitant 22 dollar fee to pitch our tent. We had covered 26 miles and one nasty hill that day, getting a late start and ending with a enough time to pitch the tent before it got dark. That’s a pretty good day for us. Ron.

Thanksgiving in Laytonville

Thanksgiving in Laytonville

We arrived in town on Wednesday, my plan to stay in a room and make it to the laundromat as I couldn’t stand the smell of myself or my clothes. We checked into The Cottage Motel, I showered, and then the washed clothes.

Ron cooked our Thanksgiving dinner of turkey pot pie on the colman stove, served with cranberry ambrosia, with warm pecan pie. We watched movies all day and walked around town in the afternoon.

There were several homeless people on the streets. I feel fortunate as I had plenty to eat and a warm place to sleep. It is raining this evening making my warm little cabin even more desirerable and homey. I’m hoping the street people have a place out of the rain.

Spoke with the family to learn that my father had a heart attack this past week. Talked with Dad and he told me he is feeling weak and tired but OK. His voice sounded strong and he was in good spirits. The news makes me feel strange as we are out of touch much of the time. In today’s world we are always available, phones, cell phones, and e-mail, and yet because we are traveling I’m out of touch and not as involved in family crisis. Helpless? What could I have done anyway? Now my thoughts are of family dynamics, and roles played by each of us and effects of our actions on each other.

It was nice speaking with all of you, thank you for your concern and love. I miss you all; the only thing that would be better for me would be to have you all traveling with us. Candy

Had a nice relaxed Thanksgiving holiday with Candy at the Cottage Motel in Laytonville CA.  Laytonville is on 101 about an hour north of Ukiah.  It is kind of an interesting little burg.  How can you explain not one but two, massage therapists in one tiny little town?  A small memorial in front of the community youth center for the victim of a recent fatal accident included a number of potent looking pot buds, sticky looking with a lot of red in it.  Lots of younger folks hanging around with dreadlocks.  A store that sells indoor growing supplies, such as powerful grow lights, hydroponic systems, and fertilizers.  The local nursery we walked by had inside it’s storage area many pallets of different brands of potting soil.  I casually asked a local, “What is Laytonville’s claim to fame?”  He said, “Generators and indoor gardening.”  I get the distinct impression that Laytonville is the supply center for indoor pot growing industry in the area.  I have no problem with this at all, just sharing some observations about the town.  Ron.  

Happy Birthday Mom from Laytonville, CA

Nov. 23. Finally got to a town with an internet connection. 5 bucks an hour to use it though. We are staying in a nice little cottage in the middle of town, but back from the street. We can't hear any traffic, which is a nice change. Happy Birthday to my mother, Rosie Hawley. This is a little late, but better than never. I love you, and Candy does too.

Last night we had to do some stealth camping off the road. We got caught between towns and campgrounds with nighfall coming, so I found a spot off the highway behind a four foot earthen berm. It wasn't untill we had all of our gear unloaded that Candy noticed the "No Trespassing" sign on the ground. I used it as a little table to cook on.

I hadn't realized how high in the hills we were. Around 1700 feet and it was near freezing when we got up this morning. We just folded up the tent and got on the road around 7:30, just wanting to pedal to get us warm. We finally found a sunlit pullout on the road about 10:00 am, where I fixed us some hot oatmeal and coffee. There is something a little off or "strange" about this area we are in. People out in the country all have gates across their driveways and "No Trespassing" signs up everywhere. I think the number 1 cash crop in this part of CA is pot, so maybe that's what it is.

We are taking the Branscomb road to the coast either tomorrow or the next day, we haven't made up our minds yet. Either way, we should be able to avoid the heavy log truck traffic we have been told about, since it is Thanksgiving. We avoided the most commonly used cycle route out of Leggett to the coast, Highway 1, because so many people told us how terribly curvy and narrow it is. So we decide to go on down 101 to Laytonville and then west to the coast.

Candy is down the street doing our laundry, and I am going to do a little shopping at the food market for our Thanksgiving meal tomorrow. I think maybe a turkey pot pie, some cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, and Pecan Pie. We truly are thankful for the all the well wishers we have encountered, our familys who love us, and all the folks who are tuning in to our blog to follow us on our odyssey. Ron.

The Riverwood Campground

Nov. 21. Posting from the Riverwood Resort and Campground.  Located between Piercy and Legget, CA.  Nice private campground.  They don’t have internet, so this was written in word and posted today, but written on the 21st.  Happy Birthday Mom.  Lot’s of love from Candy and I.  Sorry I couldn’t call, but we have had no internet or cell phone signal for several days.  Weather is holding up for us.  We have been unbelievably lucky with the weather.  It’s been great for the last several weeks.  Couldn’t ask for better.  We are facing a big climb tomorrow, the highest yet of our trip, and I think, the highest on whole Pacific Coast bike route.  

We had a rear tire blowout yesterday.  We hit a sharp rock and sliced the sidewall.  Ruined the tire and the tube.  But no problems, just got to a wide spot on the shoulder, and installed the new tire and tube we have been carrying forever.  That took about 20 minutes.  While we were doing that, another cyclist loaded with touring gear stopped to take pictures of our rig.  He was from Japan, and started his trip in Anchorage, and is on his way to the tip of South America.  Candy told him to be sure and write to his mother.

We also met a man and his wife named Kirk and Suzie yesterday.  We actually had met Kirk several weeks before at a campground in Oregon, though Suzie was not with him at that time.  They passed us on the road and pulled over to say hello and let us meet Suzie.  Anyway, they are both such a wonderfully nice couple, and interesting too.  They traveled across the U.S. on bicycles with two young daughters when they were younger, which I cannot even imagine.  It’s difficult enough taking care of just ourselves on this trip.  No way would I have done this trip with children.  But they did it, and my hat is off to them.  Ron.

Litter Gets My Goat

Litter Gets My Goat.

I taught my daughter to leave a place cleaner than when we arrived. When we went to the swimming hole on the South Toutle, we packed out our trash plus more. It is a way of life, clean up your mess. (Handy for an obsessive compulsive)

There seems to be a fair number of people who do not care where they put there garbage. There are bottles, cans, plastic containers, fast food wrappers, and coffee containers everywhere we have traveled. Even entire bags of trash are left along the side of the road.

I’ve heard arguments for saving the trees, whales, and fish. Drive efficient autos, down with SUV’s. The government is taking to much land, closing the parks to ATV’s; taxes are too high, too much pork, bridges to nowhere, rotten roads. Yadda, yadda, yadda! Why not shut up about what we can’t change without an act of congress and do something for all of humanity. Don’t litter. Pick up litter. Provide a place to put litter. Teach our children not to litter.

As Mike would say, “Its common sense” Candy

Phillipsville, CA

We just checked into the Madrona Motel and Cottages in Phillipsville. I asked the young man at the desk if this place had internet, he said, "I don't think so". So when I got in the room, I turned on my little wireless detector and found out that there is a good wireless hotspot. I am probably not supposed to be using it, but that's the way it goes. People should password protect their networks, eh? I have a nice little head cold going, with all the usual sniffles, runny nose, watery eyes, sneezing, etc.

Since our last post from Arcata, we have tented every night and not had any internet access. I find myself really craving to get online and check the news, weather, my email, our blog, etc. The riding has been great, as we have been following the Avenue of the Giants, which closely parallels 101, but has very little traffic this time of year. It is a two lane, and most of the time, I can count the number of cars passing in one hour on ten fingers. Last night we were in the Burlington Campground just outside of Weott. I only saw one other camper in the area. The campground is setting is unique, in that the really old large trees have all been cut down, maybe a hundred years ago. The stumps are fifteen feet high, and you can see the old springboard notches that they cut when they sawed these giants down by hand with a crosscut saw. It must have taken days to cut one tree down, I'm guessing. Around all the old giant stumps are (usually) a ring of new trees growing. The coast redwood is unique in that it can sprout new trees from seeds and also from the root burl around the tree. So, in many cases, an old stump will be completely encircled by a ring of younger trees, given life by their ancestor tree. Ron.

Arcata

We have been motelled in Arcata CA for the last two nights, getting ready to leave this morning. I have a pair of shoes (Crocs) I ordered waiting for me at the Post Office. The original pair I started out with are wearing out. Arcata is a small college town (Humboldt State) on the coast that still has a number of it's original Victorian homes intact. We got to see a few of them as we rode into town. Arcata has a real town plaza, which we toured on foot on Saturday night. It is a large open green space with a statue in the middle and small shops and a hotel ringing the square. I really like it. Plus, the town has at least 4 bike shops, two of them on the same street as our motel. And an abundance of small, hip cafe's and other types of shops serving the college kids. I like Arcata.

I just found out that our blog is being followed by another blog called Bike Fun that runs on the Oregonlive.com website which I believe is published by the Oregonian newspaper, the biggest paper in Oregon. That would explain the number of hits the site has been getting. Cool. Ron.

Frequently Asked Questions and Comments

As we make our way down the coast, we keep hearing the same questions. People want to know:
Where did you start from? (Since no one knows where Silverlake Wa. is we usually say Mt. St. Helens area of Washington.)
Where are you going? (The answer to this is usually "San Diego". Sometimes I say "Florida. I want to drink a beer in Key West, sitting on the pier watching the sun go down." That usually gets a good reaction. However, I really do want to do that, if it's still there when I get there.)
That is some contraption! (Depending on my mood, I may explain that the contraption is a tandem recumbent trike. Not that I expect them to remember it.)
That looks like fun. (This one usually comes from women, for some reason.)
How fast does it go? (Uphill or downhill? Uphill can be as slow as 1 mph. Downhill can be as fast as 50 mph. Our trip average so far is 7 mph, according to our Sigma computer.)
Does it have a motor? (It used to, but it fell off a few days ago.)
How far have you gone? (Today, or since we started this trip?)
Why are you going this time of year? (Cooler weather, less traffic, reduced motel prices. The real reason is that it took time to sell the house, order the trike, etc.)
Is it comfortable? (Yes, it's very comfortable. Comfort is the primary reason we chose it. We sometimes take rest breaks in it.)
How can you pedal lying down? (We are not lying down. We are reclining. It is a very good way to pedal. The weight of the body is spread across the width of the butt and the back. No crotch pain or numbness, no sore shoulders or wrists, or numb hands from supporting the upper body weight. Next time you are looking at exercise equipment, notice that most of the exercycles are of the recumbent variety.)
How many miles a day are you doing? (This question usually comes from the colorful spandex two wheel crowd. The answer is, not many compared to the average touring cyclist. We are fat and slow and we don't care much about daily mileage. We don't have a daily schedule to maintain like a lot of cyclists that have a set number of days to get to a certain destination. Besides, the primary focus of our trip is to get fit and have an adventure doing it. We started the trip with no training regimen to get us ready. So we are, in effect, training as we go. To those that think that maintaining a 50 mile a day average is important, go for it.)
Did you build that? (No, but I would like to be able to claim that I did. It was built in Australia. You can learn more about it at www.greenspeed.com.au
Do you stay in motels or do you camp? (We camp as much as we can to save money. But there are times when only a dry room with a real bed, HBO, and a hot shower will do.)
That is the coolest thing I've ever seen. (Or some variation on that.)
How do you steer it? (With this thing here.)
Can you tell if she isn't pedaling? (Believe me, I can tell when she is not pedaling, just letting her feet go 'round.)
Do you ever fall asleep on that thing? (Just once. I dreamt that I was taking this crazy trip on a tandem recumbent trike around the US. That dream really scared me.) Ron.

Happy Birthday Kristiina

Sorry for posting after your birthday, life on the road isn't always with wifi.

Your life as I know it; You are 17, a junior in high school, participating in Running Start (which will give you an AA when you graduate from high school), working part time in a restraunt, and you are a cheer leader.

I remember when I was 17; a senior in high school, scared of the future. I felt that I wasn't good enough to be or do anything. I felt insignificant in my mother and father's life, if I weren't around neither would have minded. My sister, Claudia, was making a sacrifice by providing room and board so that I could remain in the same school for two years and continue on the drill team, while she worked two jobs and went to college. I dropped out of all the classes that would help get me into college because I couldn't do the work (or didn't want to do the work). I believed mom when she told me I wasn't smart and would make a good homemaker and tried to manipulate my boyfriend into marrying me. I wanted very much to become engaged to get married by Christmas dance (it didn't happen). My 17th year was an emotional nightmare for me. I survived in that I breathed and ate, though I felt very, very lonely.

May you have a better year. Keep your eye on the future. Get a degree to provide for food, clothing and shelter needs so that when you get out there in the unprotected world your stuggle of discovering who and what you are will be less encumbered than mine.

I give you my love and support for the coming year. Grandma

Happy Birthday to My Brother, Bill, from Ron.

Natures Cathderal

The first two were taken on the James B Drury Parkway. It was an incredible day. I will never forget the silent run down the nearly deserted highway, with shafts of sunlight piercing the dark forest of giants.

















Below, Candy gets close to a bull in the early morning at Elk Prairie State Park.

Nov 11th Trinidad CA

The picture on the left was taken on the roadside somewhere in the redwoods. Candy was playing with the streamers fluttering above. I thought it was a good shot of her. The weather since Crescent City has been good. We have been riding through the coast redwoods for the last three days, and the scenery has been unforgettable. It was like riding through a postcard. The most memorable section of road so far has been the James B. Drury Parkway. It is an old section of 101 running through some of the best of the redwoods. These trees are huge, in diameter and height. They are so big; it is difficult, even standing amongst them, to comprehend it. One cannot appreciate how majestic they are without actually being near them. Because it is November, we were able to coast down the Parkway in calm and silence, with very little traffic to concern us. The afternoon sun sending shafts of light through the giants moved me in ways that I don’t often feel. Sunlight streaming through stained glass windows in a silent cathedral would be an apt comparison, I think.

I wanted to stop and explore every different grove, but we needed to get to our camp. This was our first experience with a California state park system campground, and it was a good one. The Elk Prairie Campground had wild Roosevelt Elk grazing within 30 feet of rv’s and tents. About an hour after the sun went down, we had a front row seat watching two bulls joust, their heads down and antlers interlocked, clacking away. The campground was clean and well kept, with metal bear boxes to store our food in. The bear boxes gave Candy concern. Then I mentioned the mountain lions. It was not appreciated. But we survived. Ron.

Good Morning Merry Sunshine

Good morning Merry Sunshine,
How did you wake so soon?
I saw you go to sleep last night
Before I ceased my play.

I never go to sleep, dear child,
I just go round to see
The little children of the East
That rise and watch for me.

I awaken all the birds and bees
And flowers on my way.
And now to come back to the child
That stayed up late to play!

November 10, 2005 We are camped in the Elk Prairie State Park in California.

After traveling through Redwood forest all afternoon, pedaling mostly uphill, we stopped early. Delighted to find that Elk Prairie lives up to it’s name. A herd of elk were grazing, not in the prairie but in the camp ground. We went to sleep to the sounds of elk bugling and the racks of two bucks knocking against each other…wondering if this was practice or the real thing as they would tangle for a moment and then graze for two. I thought how typical of the males I know…sex, food, sex, food.

Last night's experience is not what brought Grandma Jokela’s song to mind, it getting up before daylight and watching Merry Sunshine arrive!

The whole area was covered in fog so thick that the dew was dripping off the trees and bushes like rain drops. The elk and bunny rabbits were grazing even closer to us than last evening. The sun started showing it self across the prairie and over the top of the trees in black and white shadows. Then it disappeared in the fog, while in the opposite direction the tall trees were bright and basking in the sun light.

While I drank coffee and thanking God for the beautiful morning, the sun started to shine through the trees. Just a tiny spot, that slowly got bigger, sending a ray of light onto the prairie floor…suddenly the small ball of light turned rainbow colored…just for a moment... long enough for me to see the Glory of God. Then the world exploded to life! Birds, hundreds of birds, flit and fluttering from tree to tree eating breakfast, talking to each other. A red headed woodpecker is foraging for food above my head and distracts me as I type. The dew sparkles like strings of diamonds on the cob webs. A most obnoxious Blue bird seems to be scolding me as I sit here gathering warmth and strength from sun. The sounds of the forest are more diverse now, some I have never heard before. It's time to get moving!

I leave you now as I must begin my play. Candy.

A Typical Day?

What is it like on a typical day on the road? Ordinary daily living chores take more effort. If we are camping, just getting up, going potty, getting dressed, fixing some coffee and breakfast take more time. Even more so if the weather is windy or it is raining. Putting the tent up, taking the tent down, it seems like we just did that. Once on the road, the day is kind of broken up by what is ahead. Is it a hill to climb? What's around the next corner? A bridge with no shoulder? A fast downhill roller coaster ride? Where can I go pee? Should we take the time to see this or that sight? Where are we going to stop for the evening? Motel or campground? The weather and availability play a role in where we stop for the evening.

Candy frequently reads a novel when the going is slow up a hill. Since I am steering I don't get to read when the road gets boring. I have to keep an eye on traffic coming up from behind while keeping an eye on what is immediately ahead of me. I now have spent a lot of time looking at guard rails from eye level, up close. From my point of view guard rails are dangerous, giving me no place to go if I get squeezed by traffic. Older bridges are a problem also. The road can have a great shoulder, then when the bridge comes up the shoulder completely disappears. So you check your mirror and move onto the bridge, knowing that you are in the lane of traffic, counting on the next driver coming along to see you. Bridges can be very intimidating, especially those older ones spanning the coastal rivers near the towns. High traffic flow, no shoulders, narrow lanes. At the bridge leaving Newport and heading south, I was so freaked by the heavy flow of traffic and lack of a shoulder that I seriously considered calling the local cops to give me an escort over the bridge. Turns out we did get an escort, but it was from a sympathetic ODOT engineer we happened to stop and ask directions from. He offered to turn on his yellow flashing light and drive behind us across the bridge. He didn't have to offer twice.

It's pretty easy to tell, watching in my mirrors, if a driver coming up has seen us. They almost always move to the left a little or a lot, depending on the oncoming traffic. Sometimes they don't move over much, even when they could. Those drivers tick me off a little. I guess I could be guilty of road rage on a trike? Then there are the drivers that slow way down and get completely in the other lane, as if we might dart out in front of them, like a deer. Occasionally a driver behind us will honk, thinking they are doing us a favor by alerting us to their presence. As if we can't hear the tires and engine noise from a hundred yards back. The drivers that really irk me are the ones that lean on their horns all the way past. That does not happen very often, but my nearly involuntary response when it does is the middle finger, held high until the car is out of sight. Now, I know this is a foolish response. If it happens to be the wrong person, they could return and make life pretty scary for us. But, as I said, depending on the circumstances, it is nearly impossible to repress. Even Candy did it along with me once, when a big luxury car's horn blasted us on a corner. Don't they know that if we could get further out of the flow of traffic, we would?
Other times during the day, we are chatting with people who are curious and/or amazed at our machine and our adventure. Those are the best times of the day. Those times and meal times. It seems like my appetite is bottomless now. Ron.

My take on a typical day...

When camping the first thing I do when I awake is to stretch, listen to the birds, check for rain, roll over, arrange my pillow and go back to sleep. Ron gets up, makes coffee and oatmeal and serves me in bed. I dress and start breaking camp...stuff sleeping bags and roll up the air mattresses, take morning meds and dispense Ron's meds, and empty the tent. We have developed a system for taking down the tent...I pull the tent pegs and unhook the fly, Ron stuffs the fly. Ron picks the tent up and shakes it, I clean the corners. We both remove and fold the poles, Ron stuffs the tent. Ron washes the dishes, I pack the trailer.We wash up (shower if available), brush teeth, and fill the water bottles. Ron connects the trailer to the bike and attaches the bags while I police the camp site.This process takes us about two hours!

Traveling down the road has ranged in speed from 1 mph to 49.5 mph. Going uphill is a warm experience, and downhill can be very chilly. It can be difficult maintaining a nice body temp with the wind, rain, sun, and wet/dry pavement. I spend alot of time taking my rain coat off and then putting it back on, same with hat and sun glasses. Some of the uphill grades are killers, I've found that reading distracts me from the pain in my legs allowing me to maintain a steady pace. We stop along side of the road for lunch, usually apples or bananas and peanut butter. We point things out to each other and visit with people when we stop to eat or shop. I quit taking blood pressures as people seem to want to know about the bike, the process of getting started on the trip or the reasons for taking the trip.

About 3-4:30 we start looking for a home. We set up the tent as soon as we stop. While I put the fly on Ron inflates the air mattresses. I fix the slepping bags and straighten out the tent while Ron unpacks the bike, cooks dinner and washes dishes. We're usually sleeping at 8:30.

I find myself reveiwing my life in my mind or designing a house when my senses are not taking in the sights of the road. YES, I am very spoiled and I make sure Ron knows that I know it.
Candy

Still in Brookings, OR

We spent so much time at the McDonalds catching up on computer stuff, that it got too late to look for a tent spot south of town, plus the weather started deteriorating again, so we decided to motel it last night. We are staying at the Wild Rivers Motel in Brookings, a nice place with free wifi. We will be here again tonight and maybe tomorrow night, as the weather reports are not good. I don't like riding in heavy rain and strong winds. I don't think it is safe and it is definately not fun. Light rain or intermittant showers are not a problem. Weather.com indicates heavy rain and wind for tonight, solid rain for tomorrow, and 50% chance of rain on Monday, coming down to 30% on Tuesday.

Candy has gone out walking around looking for a place to get a haircut. I haven't shaved or gotten a haircut since about two weeks before we left Silverlake. I think I am just going to let it all keep growing, until I startle adults and frighten small children.

I think I may go shopping for a digital camera. Candy carries our only camera, so she takes the bulk of the pictures, with the result that she is seldom seen in the pictures on the blog. One of our readers has complained that she never sees pictures of Candy. I want to change that, so that means I will have to be taking pictures also.

While at McDonald's yesterday, I met a retired gentleman named Larry Williams that does volunteer work driving a shuttle bus up and down the Oregon coast. He is apparently very well off and does it to stay busy and useful. He told me that he had seen us several times as we made our way south along 101, and was hoping that he would get a chance to check us out when we reached Brookings, which is where he lives. He is going to be purchasing a luxury motorhome soon and will be traveling the desert southwest this winter, and is hoping to meet us again down there. I hope we do meet him again, as he is a very nice fellow and interesting to talk with. Ron.

Brookings

We are just a few miles from the California border. Kind of a pyschological milestone for me, to know that we have completely traversed the state of Oregon. We will probably stay in Brookings tonight and head for Crescent City California tomorrow. Posting this from McDonalds in Brookings.

Whaleshead Beach Resort

Nov. 3rd. We arrived yesterday at the second gift from Claudia as we were winging down a hill at 35 mph, 7 miles north of Brookings. Whaleshead Resort is a beautiful spot set on a hillside overlooking Whaleshead Beach. See www.whalesheadresort.com. At the moment, a windstorm is blowing sheets of rain against the picture windows of our cabin, and it feels good to sit inside this cozy little place and watch as Mother Nature rages against the glass, trying to get in. I just heard a weather report on tv that says this is a major wind and rainstorm hitting the entire Northwest coast all the way down to San Francisco. Gusts up to 98 mph were recorded at Cape Blanco, not far north of where we are now. I think we are seeing gusts up to 40 or 50 at our cabin.

Pedaling the highway from Gold Beach OR to Brookings yesterday we had gorgeous weather and rode by many beautiful overlooks of the rocky Oregon Beaches. I think the southern coast of Oregon is my favorite section. The weather is warmer and the highway has wider shoulders, meaning safer, less stressful riding for us.

We were originally planning to stay only one night, courtesy of Claudia, but the predicted storm arrived early in the morning and really left us with no choice but to purchase another day here. I am not complaining about being here another night. The cabins are all privately owned, and beautifully furnished and decorated by the owners. It’s like staying in a friend’s home, not an impersonal motel room. Our unit has a deck overlooking the ocean, with a spa, which we hopped into almost as soon as we arrived yesterday. It was sheer bliss, sitting in the spa with Candy, sipping my favorite beer after a tough day of pedaling up and down the hills. Depending on the weather, we will probably be leaving tomorrow, which is Friday the 4th of November. Ron.

The Witch of Humbug Mountain St. Park

Nov. 1st. This is our second night at a cottage in Gold Beach. The first night was paid for by Claudia. I guess I have to back up a little. We were camped at the Mt. Humbug State Park a few nights ago, when a witch walked into our camp about 4 pm in the afternoon. I was just waking up from a nap in the tent, and I could hear “trick or treat, trick or treat”. Outside the tent was woman in costume as a witch, invading our camp. Of course it turned out to be Claudia. Candy identified her by her toes.

Claudia the stalker had found us once again. Of course it’s not difficult to find us if you read the blog. So after spending the night at a motel in Port Orford, she joined us for coffee and sticky buns in camp the next morning. Then, under the pretext of just wanting to visit Brookings because she had never been there, she took off south while we packed and hit the road on the trike. About 11 miles of pedaling and 3 hours later, she met us for lunch at a rest stop with food and the keys to a rented cottage in Gold Beach and a reservation for another room in Brookings. What a wonderful thing to do for us. Plus, we found our favorite refreshments in the fridge when we got to Gold Beach. Corona beer for me and pre-mixed margarita’s for Candy.

So we were supposed to be in Brookings today to use the second room she got us, but when we woke this morning in Gold Beach, it raining sideways, with gusts up to 40 mph. We opted to pay for another night in the cottage, so I called Brookings and changed our arrival date.

Unless the weather is really bad, we’ll be leaving for Brookings in the morning. The climate is noticeably warmer here. Even saw some palm trees here in Gold Beach. Must be the mutant variety. We have a really big hill to climb right out of the box, so it should be a fun run down the other side into Brookings. The trike screams on the down hills. We hit 41 mph on a downhill a couple of days ago. Adios till next time, Ron.