Miles biked: 56 (811.3 overall)
Time on bike: 4 hours, 28 minutes, 47 seconds
Maximum speed: 37.2 mph
Roads taken: 101 South.
Places stopped: Beach wayside (for morning peppermint tea), Gold Beach (to stop at library and get my first food of the day -- gorp), a few viewpoints along the ocean en route to Brookings, Harris Beach State Park (for the night) ... in Brookings: Mexican restaurant (for lunch/dinner), library (for express Internet session), Dairy Queen (for strawberry sundae), Ray's Market (for evening snack).
I woke up Thursday morning knowing that I was about to begin my final full day in the beautiful state of Oregon.
I also woke up knowing that my tent's rain fly was soaked -- as well as everything else outside my crowded sleeping place. I had left my bike in the elements, thinking the rain that had hit the coast for a week had finally moved on.
Of course, I was wrong.
Throughout the night, I awakened to hear the unmistakable sound of rain drops hitting the tent. At least that wasn't the case when I began my day around 7.
Once I got everything packed up -- some stuff dry, some wet -- and got on my bike, things were blissful. The road curving around Humbug Mountain is pretty cool. To your right, the mountain looms above you. The land on the left side of the road is also elevated.
It gave me the feeling of riding through a gap in the mountains.
Then I reached the other side of southern Oregon's highest point and was greeted by miles upon miles of blue -- both the sky and the water just to my right. This would be a theme throughout the day.
The only negative was my bike chain. Because of all the rain it had sustained, it wasn't exactly smooth-sounding. I oiled it in the morning before heading out, but it started making noise after about 20 miles -- in Gold Beach -- probably because I rode on wet roads throughout the morning.
So after visiting yet another small Oregon library -- I'm not counting, but the final count has to be near double digits -- I oiled my chain yet again, and things sounded smooth the rest of the day.
The last leg of my relatively easy day on the Trek came between Gold Beach and Brookings, and I could have taken 1,078 touristy pictures if I had so chosen. Almost every mile (or less), there was an Oregon State Parks viewpoint.
There were about 3,427 cool views of the ocean and all the rocks in it -- that's a big theme on the West Coast, by the way; there are interesting-shaped rocks of all sizes in the water all down the coast (at least so far).
Sometimes I'd be down by the water, just 50 feet or so above it. Then I'd climb a long, gradual hill and be looking down a few hundred feet to the sparkling, blue water.
And then, in thrilling fashion, I'd zoom down a long, twisting hill.
Those experiences were both exciting and a tinge nerve-racking. I reached my highest speed of the trip -- 37.2 mph -- and easily could have reached 50 mph if I had laid off the brakes. I had to be careful, however, to keep the bike steady as the wind off the ocean picked up about 10-fold each time I started gaining speed.
In the end, each hill had me shaking my head and grinning when I finally reached the bottom. And, I'm sure, they were good preparation for some of the rolling hills I'll experience here in California.
Around 3, I rolled up to my final Oregon State Park -- Harris Beach SP. It was a great final-night destination in the state. Sitting on a hill overlooking the small town of Brookings, it offered great views both to the north and south of dozens of rocks sticking up from the water.
After grabbing food in town, I biked uphill to the campsite and had plenty of time to prepare myself -- and the camera -- for yet another beautiful sunset. I would have watched it from the perfect spot, up on the beach's highest rock, but the seagulls up there were swarming and I had cookies with me (I've had a bad experience with a gang of seagulls; just ask about Australia).
Still, I found a comfortable rock and enjoyed another great evening on the beach. No, they'll never get old.
As I climbed into the tent, knowing this time -- for sure -- that no rain was coming, I started thinking about the upcoming week.
I was just 82 miles, approximately, from Arcata, CA, where I'm meeting Dad a week from Saturday (May 16) for three days of hiking. I had eight days to kill.
I looked at my maps, and I couldn't put together a concrete plan. (At the moment, the rough agenda is to spend three nights at the beautiful hostel in the Redwoods national/state park and do some exploring in the area.)
But I was able to rest peacefully, knowing that at least I don't have to pass that much time in almost any other place in this country.
Yeah, a week in central Kansas is a bit less appealing.
No comments:
Post a Comment