So here's a fact for you: wind rolls down from a mountain. From the top, all the way down to the bottom. So when you are climbing a mountain, say ... on a bike, and the wind is in your face and you think "ah life's going to be better behind this hairpin curve", forget it. You will be even more miserable cause the actual curves seem always just that little bit grade-increased and the wind is still there. And cycling, the wind is there all the time, you know that, and you learned to accept it, to get over it. Though climbing, steep climbing, you can appreciate all the support there is, and not the kind that hits you in the face. It hurts. My feelings in the first place, my little fire lungs in the next.
Next to brutal headwinds, winter conditions didn't lift our spirits either. One time we had a pity party, sheltering behind a bridge column for wind gusts, when Lauren, determined to take the high way out of despair, decided to give her hitchhiking skills a first-time-ever try. I'm still debating whether it's naïve inexperience or just sheer beginners luck when she managed to flag down the, rather uptight, county sheriff who kindly but firm reminded us that his vehicle is "emergency use only" and that hitchhiking is illegal in the state of Oregon. Oops. Back on the bike.
Idaho as well as Oregon has the right cycling mentality so we pretty much WarmShowered our way through this whole stretch. Which is awesome. We stayed with so many nice and interesting people, all involved in a variety of hobbies and projects. We cannot do more than express our inexpressible gratitude and act as polite as possible (turning their kitchen floor into a murder scene by bleeding blisters, Fien, not cool).
Something else that's not cool is finally crossing into Oregon-bike-loving-state-of-America expecting to get a lot of love but instead getting flipped off the road, yelled off the road, honked off the road and get half a full beer can thrown at us out of a moving vehicle, missing us by an inch, which, I assume, pretty much is a summary-action off all the above. Hey Oregon, what's up? So we are very much working on our karma these days.
And I think it's working cause after summer disappeared for a good 5 days (but came back around after), one night we got, drenched and cold, very last minute saved from overnight-hypothermia by a very flexible WarmShowers host (thank you).
And so we are all nearing the end of our trip. We climbed more long, big passes, held euphoric scream-parties on nearly all of them, had a first glimpse on the Cascades and eventually enjoyed a long ways down towards the ocean (I did a record 108 mile day).
Vancouver, j'arrive!
Monday, June 23, 2014
Neusje van de zalm
One day we were cycling along the Salmon River and it happens to be salmon season. So this nice little river valley gets filled with us 4 cyclists, some traffic and a 10 000 fishermen. They for sure blew the lest-just-camp-on-the-side-of-the-road-plan as every patch of lush looking roadside grass, pretty much from the shoulder on, was taken. Trapped in the valley and caught by the setting sun, it looked like we were about to smooch up the gravel for the night. Though Jacob and I were really not feeling that vibe so we knocked on some doors (the only 2 around) and I gave Lauren minor heart failure when I just walked into somebody's back door (after my wimpy knock, they did call me in though). "Seriously Fien, people will shoot you!" Turned out we walked into a Dutch-speaking soccer-loving/watching couple's home. What are the odds?! Some beer, bbq, breakfast, a good night sleep and some drop (Dutch liquorice) later, we were good to go.
Reunion
On my way to the others, I met a nice other touring couple, early fifties, going the other way. They are shooting a documentary (while cycling) about small-town-entrepreneurship. Very interesting. The man, after telling my story and capturing some of it on camera, said goodbye with the words "Wauw, you're like a role model. We all want to be like you when we grow up". I like the way we moved away from crazy-out-of-your-mind-homeless-girl here.
In the next leg I got seriously rained and thundered on while climbing a huge never-ending pass and was saved by a friendly stranger in a truck (many thanks). Reunited with my friends, the next couple of days it went from summer to winter again but we got treated to some of the most spectacular views of the trip so far. America as well does keep surprising me.
In the next leg I got seriously rained and thundered on while climbing a huge never-ending pass and was saved by a friendly stranger in a truck (many thanks). Reunited with my friends, the next couple of days it went from summer to winter again but we got treated to some of the most spectacular views of the trip so far. America as well does keep surprising me.
I-da-ho
Eugene, Oregon, 66 miles separate me from the great Pacific Ocean. If you inhale deep enough, you can actually feel saltiness scavenging through your lungs (not really but very imaginary).
So what happened between here and parting from love? A lot of pine trees, sagebrushes, rough-rocky landscapes and of course my friends, our steady gang since Kansas, colored the landscape.
Parting from Lander was easy and hard at the same time. I was very much looking forward to hit the pedal again and I would see him in another month or so, I can take that. At the same time I'd take off on my own again and though I'd been a worn out cyclist by now, cycling for over two months, that point where you leap into the unknown, by yourself, letting go of all securities, still gives me chills. But that did not last long. I guess I'm in a new comfort zone.
It was a beautiful day and I soon found myself in an impressing canyon filled with pines and cramped with deer. I rode into Pacific Time and I swear I could feel a salty breeze sweep through my hair. Ocean, await me!
Meanwhile eastbound season really took off. One day at least 15 bikers past me, some of them heavily light weighted. That's when I found out about the race (www.transambikerace.com). Apparently this year an unofficial TransAm bike race is on and rumor has it that the guy in lead will pedal my 3 months blood-sweat-and-tears-haul in 18 days (that's right, 18 days). No stopping and shooting pretty pics at state-line-signs for these guys I bet.
But I'm still in this gorgeous canyon, pretty much a 100 mile stretch of no service. And with no service, I really mean no service, not a store, not a cafe, not even a house nor a spicket. You're on your own. So no choice but to freestyle and pull off on the side of the road that night. The one thing I promised I wouldn't do is to randomly steltcamp without anyone knowing where I'm at but, big surprise, no phone service either in this rip in the earth. I choose a very inviting ghost-camping on the side of the road as my nights rest. Once for sure a picturesque place of pleasure and delight, these days rather long forgone glory. Jungly. I waited for the sun to set to set up camp, a little nervous I have to admit. And man does this wilderness turn into a freaky scene at night. I got teared out of my sleep (yes I actually fell asleep) by a howling or growling. Crap. Here I'm lying, surrounded by food (as I was, of course, too lazy to tie any of it in a tree), soaking oats, a muesli bar or two, some bread and cheese, cranberries, an apple and an orange. I'm like a yummy smelling lobster on a bed of greens with all that's separating me from a set of canine teeth is a flap of vinyl. Very reassuring. After listening to the howls for a little while, I think I was exhausted enough to fall back asleep. I'll never know what it was but it definitely sounded like a cross between a wolf and a deer, but it might as well 've been a combo, say a wolf eating a half-alive deer, who knows, I didn't step outside to join the party. In any way, I was happy to see that sun rise for yet another day. Survived incognito steltcamping. It's nice to know that after three months of road-life I'm still up for pushing some being-bold boundaries. I surprise myself.
More pine-canyon lay ahead of me that next day and it was beautiful, an endless series of deja-vu's. Every curve to the left or right looked like an exact copy of the one I just did before, and the one before that one and the one ... and so on, like cycling into a mirror reflecting a mirror. But I did not get tired of any of it. They did, for diversion/excitement's sake, throw in a bunch of (bathing) deer and the butterflies too asked for full focus. You do not, after all, want to catch its entire canyon-population in your front wheel.
Two days back in the game and I caught up with the others again (Jacob, Zach and Lauren), who lay low for one afternoon so I could catch up. I guess this team is meant to be ...
So what happened between here and parting from love? A lot of pine trees, sagebrushes, rough-rocky landscapes and of course my friends, our steady gang since Kansas, colored the landscape.
Parting from Lander was easy and hard at the same time. I was very much looking forward to hit the pedal again and I would see him in another month or so, I can take that. At the same time I'd take off on my own again and though I'd been a worn out cyclist by now, cycling for over two months, that point where you leap into the unknown, by yourself, letting go of all securities, still gives me chills. But that did not last long. I guess I'm in a new comfort zone.
It was a beautiful day and I soon found myself in an impressing canyon filled with pines and cramped with deer. I rode into Pacific Time and I swear I could feel a salty breeze sweep through my hair. Ocean, await me!
Meanwhile eastbound season really took off. One day at least 15 bikers past me, some of them heavily light weighted. That's when I found out about the race (www.transambikerace.com). Apparently this year an unofficial TransAm bike race is on and rumor has it that the guy in lead will pedal my 3 months blood-sweat-and-tears-haul in 18 days (that's right, 18 days). No stopping and shooting pretty pics at state-line-signs for these guys I bet.
But I'm still in this gorgeous canyon, pretty much a 100 mile stretch of no service. And with no service, I really mean no service, not a store, not a cafe, not even a house nor a spicket. You're on your own. So no choice but to freestyle and pull off on the side of the road that night. The one thing I promised I wouldn't do is to randomly steltcamp without anyone knowing where I'm at but, big surprise, no phone service either in this rip in the earth. I choose a very inviting ghost-camping on the side of the road as my nights rest. Once for sure a picturesque place of pleasure and delight, these days rather long forgone glory. Jungly. I waited for the sun to set to set up camp, a little nervous I have to admit. And man does this wilderness turn into a freaky scene at night. I got teared out of my sleep (yes I actually fell asleep) by a howling or growling. Crap. Here I'm lying, surrounded by food (as I was, of course, too lazy to tie any of it in a tree), soaking oats, a muesli bar or two, some bread and cheese, cranberries, an apple and an orange. I'm like a yummy smelling lobster on a bed of greens with all that's separating me from a set of canine teeth is a flap of vinyl. Very reassuring. After listening to the howls for a little while, I think I was exhausted enough to fall back asleep. I'll never know what it was but it definitely sounded like a cross between a wolf and a deer, but it might as well 've been a combo, say a wolf eating a half-alive deer, who knows, I didn't step outside to join the party. In any way, I was happy to see that sun rise for yet another day. Survived incognito steltcamping. It's nice to know that after three months of road-life I'm still up for pushing some being-bold boundaries. I surprise myself.
More pine-canyon lay ahead of me that next day and it was beautiful, an endless series of deja-vu's. Every curve to the left or right looked like an exact copy of the one I just did before, and the one before that one and the one ... and so on, like cycling into a mirror reflecting a mirror. But I did not get tired of any of it. They did, for diversion/excitement's sake, throw in a bunch of (bathing) deer and the butterflies too asked for full focus. You do not, after all, want to catch its entire canyon-population in your front wheel.
Two days back in the game and I caught up with the others again (Jacob, Zach and Lauren), who lay low for one afternoon so I could catch up. I guess this team is meant to be ...
Sunday, June 22, 2014
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
We're like diamonds in the sky
Nearly forgot about our short track to fortune, digging up some gems and sapphires at Chrystal Park (even sacrificed a toothbrush).
For sure not the only gold diggers here ....
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Hotel Lander
The surprise came in a van, a shack wagon or "Big Chief" as my friends were very eager to baptize Van + Man with a genuine trail name.
I met Lander (the boyfriend, not the city) in the middle of the night (he drove 2 days straight from Vancouver, CA) at a gas station after I made Jack VERY clear I was not interested in assisting him in drinking himself to dead at the Outlaw Saloon.
Anyways that day I had a very enjoyable cycling day back by myself. Luck was with me as I had the cosmos on my side (nice topography, scenery and weather conditions). On arrival in Dubois, WY, I impressed the owners of an ice cream parlor with my stories (which means free ice cream) and was joined by a real Brad Pitt-like movie star (they're shooting a modern western called "Cardinal Matter" in town) who offered to pay for my treat as well (*sigh*). Of course encounters like these only happen when I'm setting new days-without-showers-records, thank you Murphy.
But back to The Van, or say Hotel Lander. Ten amazing days I was swept of my wheels by this man and his van, before time came and I will go on finishing my trip and he'll move back north and dig some more in Canadian grounds (he's WWOOFing in Canada).
We spend our little holiday together manly into the wild, hiking Yellowstone's back country. Think bears and bear-spray, camping and campfires, freeze-dried meals (yuk), sleeping with bisons and overestimating ourselves hiking up a mountain covered in over-knee-deep packs of snow ("Trip not advised" highlighted on our back-country permit should have rung a bell).
Yellowstone as well as Teton National Parks were an amazing experience. Being surrounded by mountains usually releases in me an un-suppressible urge to hike so needless to say I was living up being in my element. Not even bleeding heels from new hiking shoes (on sale) could stop me.
We spotted moose and bears (actually hiked with grizzly's), badgers, bald eagles and befriended and stayed with Kevin, the Teton Park firefighter and Ryan, the Yellowstone back country officer. Great encounters, people, animalia and stories.
I patched a little road trip to our Yellowstone-get-together and we eventually ended up in Missoula, Montana from where I'll hit the pedal again. I get myself ready for a Lander-re-rendez-vous in Vancouver but first, Oregon is ogling ....
I met Lander (the boyfriend, not the city) in the middle of the night (he drove 2 days straight from Vancouver, CA) at a gas station after I made Jack VERY clear I was not interested in assisting him in drinking himself to dead at the Outlaw Saloon.
Anyways that day I had a very enjoyable cycling day back by myself. Luck was with me as I had the cosmos on my side (nice topography, scenery and weather conditions). On arrival in Dubois, WY, I impressed the owners of an ice cream parlor with my stories (which means free ice cream) and was joined by a real Brad Pitt-like movie star (they're shooting a modern western called "Cardinal Matter" in town) who offered to pay for my treat as well (*sigh*). Of course encounters like these only happen when I'm setting new days-without-showers-records, thank you Murphy.
But back to The Van, or say Hotel Lander. Ten amazing days I was swept of my wheels by this man and his van, before time came and I will go on finishing my trip and he'll move back north and dig some more in Canadian grounds (he's WWOOFing in Canada).
We spend our little holiday together manly into the wild, hiking Yellowstone's back country. Think bears and bear-spray, camping and campfires, freeze-dried meals (yuk), sleeping with bisons and overestimating ourselves hiking up a mountain covered in over-knee-deep packs of snow ("Trip not advised" highlighted on our back-country permit should have rung a bell).
Yellowstone as well as Teton National Parks were an amazing experience. Being surrounded by mountains usually releases in me an un-suppressible urge to hike so needless to say I was living up being in my element. Not even bleeding heels from new hiking shoes (on sale) could stop me.
We spotted moose and bears (actually hiked with grizzly's), badgers, bald eagles and befriended and stayed with Kevin, the Teton Park firefighter and Ryan, the Yellowstone back country officer. Great encounters, people, animalia and stories.
I patched a little road trip to our Yellowstone-get-together and we eventually ended up in Missoula, Montana from where I'll hit the pedal again. I get myself ready for a Lander-re-rendez-vous in Vancouver but first, Oregon is ogling ....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)