Old Faithful

I left the town of West Yellowstone today and entered Wyoming and Yellowstone Park. Very soon after entering the park I saw a herd of elk and soon thereafter came the buffalo. I saw hundreds of them. In fact some were running down the road and I couldn't pass. Every time I would start to go around this one huge bull would turn and face me. When he turned, I turned. More people are hurt or killed in the park by buffalo than grizzly bears. So, when he turned and faced me, I did a u-turn. I finally figured out how to get around them with a little protection. I would wait until a car was going by and ride on the opposite side of the critters. My goal today, other than avoiding being trampled to death, was Old Faithful which was only 30 miles inside the west entrance. When I arrived there was dark clouds combined with thunder and lighting. So, I decided to book a cabin. Cheap enough only $65. But soon after I got the cabin the sky cleared and only a few drops of rain fell. Oh well, tomorrow I climb Craig Pass on my way out of Yellowstone so a night in a warm bed suits me just fine. I got a couple of good looks at Old Faithful and passed some of the geysers that Theresa, the kids and I got to see almost 30 years ago. We were stationed at Ellsworth, AFB in Rapid City, S.D. and took one of those military vacations into Yellowstone. I think the cabins are still the same as they were 30 years ago. This trip brings back a lot of memories of the kids especially as they held their noses when we walked through the geyser basin. Memories of a life time, time to go, get in the car. I love you girls.

Ground Floor

I left Dillon and rode to Virginia City. Unfortunately, it's a big tourist stop and since the weather was good all rooms were taken. Nevada City, about a mile away, and Virgina City still maintain the look of the old West. I took a picture of an old train in Nevada City but that one picture really doesn't give you the whole flavor of the town. The towns are very close but because Virginia City is the Capitol Seat, they seemed to get all the business. Since I couldn't get a room I found an RV park just outside of town and bedded down for the night. It was the best night camping so far. I was comfortable, felt safe and the night was clear. The next morning I had a two and a half mile climb out of the canyon and rode to Campfire Lodge Resort. It was a 65 mile day but it put me only about 25 miles from West Yellowstone. The lodge offered cabins but I camped again since the weather was good. On the way to the Campfire Lodge I passed Earthquake Lake, formed in 1959 when an earthquake knocked down the side of a mountain killing 28 people and forming the lake. After Quake Lake I passed Hebgen Lake and caught a herd of Long Horn Sheep grazing along the road. They stayed still. Earlier in the day I saw two herds of antelopes and tried to take their picture but every time I stopped they ran. Must be the bike. I've seen a lot of wildlife including at breakfast this morning at the lodge. I was eating one of the biggest pancakes I've ever seen in my life when a big screen/TV actor walked in. He didn't recognize me so luckily my breakfast was undisturbed. I promised Jim, the owner of the Campfire Lodge , I wouldn't use the actor's name since he enjoys anonymity. But just goes to show you they are people too and enjoy the same things we do. Why most Americans are hung up on celebrities is beyond me. Real heroes don't read lines. After breakfast I had a leisurely 25 mile ride into West Yellowstone, just outside of the park. Today was my fifth day on the bike so before I head into the park I am going to take a rest day. There might be rain in the forecast...ugh.

Dillon

Left Darby yesterday. At first it was a little cloudy and thought maybe I messed up by staying the extra day. But, after an hour on the road the clouds went away and it turned into perfect biking conditions. I had 18 miles to bike before I came to the seven mile climb up Chief Joseph Pass so along the way I enjoyed my last look at the Bitterroot Mountains. Just before the climb began, I came to the southern end of the Bitterroot where in 2000 they had a series of fires that burned over 350,000 acres of wooded mountains. It was weird looking at the mountains with what appeared to be sticks poking out of the ground. Oh well I hope it was a good cigarette. Going up the pass I took occasional water breaks and at one turn jumped three mule deer. Haven't seen mule deer since South Dakota. I had about three miles remaining in the climb and was concentrating on my cadence and my breathing. I have a helmet mirror but was using my ears, relying on them to tell me if traffic was coming from behind. I was deep into the climb when, out of the deathly silence, this loud voice in my 4:o'clock position said, Don't want to scare you. I immediately snapped my head to my left and then back as I ran off the road into the loose gravel and had to stop. Oops I guess I did, said my female friend as she passed and then with a giggle she said you're almost there. Well, isn't that special. She was on a road bike with a camelpak and charged pass me. Now, I don't know if you have either been walking or riding a bike and a car blows the horn when they get right beside you, but that's the effect her voice had on me. I was steamed. She obviously had been biking for awhile and I think she should have known better. Anyway, I forgot about rest stops, water, and scenery. All I wanted to see was my new friend coming back down the pass. I was almost to the top when she passed and said yeah, you made it. I was nice. I just asked her the same question about the horn blowing but she didn't respond. But I have to hand it to her, she gave my energy to top Chief Joseph. After the pass I stopped at Big Hole Battlefield Park. Only fitting since it was Memorial Day. The 7Th Calvary and the Nez Perce fought an early morning battle where the brave 7Th killed over 90 Nez Perce Indians. About 63 of them were women and children. Shoot low, was the command, because they will be sleeping. In the end the Indians repelled the 7Th and even commandeered their cannon and resumed their trek to Canada. After the education, I found what I'd been looking for, Wisdom. The town of Wisdom. I spent the night there and this morning started late due to fog. I got on the road around eight o'clock and had two passes to climb, Big Hole and Badger. Big Hole was the longer, shallower climb and Badger was shorter but steeper. Along the way again I saw some antelope and more deer. After topping Badger I had the most amazing descent of the trip. It went on for ever, about ten miles. At one point I had to slow my descent because of crosswinds but later I checked and my highest speed was 39.4. Not too bad on a fully loaded touring bike. I planned to spend the night in the next town for my sister, Sandra. She is a big Gunsmoke fan. So, tonight I am bunking in Dillon.

Bitterroot

After biking yesterday and stopping in Darby, I decided to make it my rest stop. It was raining, my knee was a little sore, the bed was warm, WiFi and four other reasons made it a good stop. Darby is a small town in the Bitterroot Valley nestled between the Bitterroot Mountains to the West and the Sapphire Mountains to the East. I was told that a lot of mega-rich have made the Bitterroot Valley their home and I can certainly see why. The Bitterroot Mountains are still snow capped and makes a beautiful backdrop for any ranch. I stayed at the Traveler's Rest Resort (cabin #3) hosted by Vaughn & Debbie. Great couple who went out of their way to make my stay enjoyable. This weekend Darby was hosting a horse riding and six gun shooting competition and the European six-gun champion, from Sweden, was bunked in cabin #4. I didn't get to see this morning's competition but was told due to the rain it was moved indoors. And, Vaughn said the Swede was afraid his horse would run into something so that caused him not to place very high in the competition. Hard to imagine a Swede beating these cowboys out here anyway. The Championship stays in Montana. Tomorrow I cross Chief Joseph pass. Chief Joseph the Nez Perce Indian that defied the demand that he take his people back to the Idaho Reservation. He led his people almost 1700 miles, about 38 miles from the Canadian border before being stopped. The part of Idaho and now Montana that I have been lucky enough to travel through is rich in Western History and particularly of the plight of American Indians. I've traveled the Lolo Trail along the Clearwater River and now down the Bitterroot Valley and tomorrow Chief Joseph Pass, all part of the route the Nez Perce took trying to make good their escape.

Lolo Pass & Big Sky Country

Between Kooskia, Idaho and Lolo, Montana there were limited services. At one point there wasn't anything but two campgrounds for 66 miles. So, I had to plan my stops so I would have food and water and a semi safe place to stay for the night. After leaving Kooskia, I biked for 50 miles to a camp site. I got there pretty early as I generally get on the road around 6:30 or 7:00 so I can get some good riding in before the traffic gets bad. It was a good site, next to the river and off the road. After looking around the campground for a site with minimal amount of bear poop, I pitched my tent. It was around 4 O:clock in the afternoon, too early for bed, yet I was tired, so I just lay in the tent relaxing. A car stopped about 20 yards from my tent and two men got out and started talking. At first I ignored them but when they started talking about bear tracks, I got interested. I flipped the fly back on the tent and went over and introduced myself. One man was about 70 years old the other I found out later was 23. Their car looked like it was on it's last leg, no hubcaps and crammed full of junk. A third person arrived with a two person camper and the elder gentleman excused himself to help, who looked like a Spanish male, station it. The younger man, Theo, started talking about the older man. He said he worked for the Defense Department, had been in Viet Nam, Kosavo, Afghanistan, and in the Navy. It got better. Theo added that the elder man was an informant as well. It seems the old man infiltrates communities and spies on people and turns that information over to the Defense Department. Theo said no one would suspect him. I agreed with Theo. When the old man shook my hand he slobbered all over himself and had to step back and wipe spit off his chin. It was early in the conversation that I realized that my camp mates might be more dangerous than the bear poop I saw. Theo invited me to join them after they got set up but I begged off adding that I was tired due to the miles I'd ridden. I went back to my tent and locked my bike and moved anything of value inside my tent. Great, first bears now the three amigos. I didn't get too much sleep and quietly left camp early next morning. Yesterday I biked to the Locksa Lodge 13 miles from Lolo Pass.The last two days involved an 80 mile slow climb culminating in Lolo Pass. The lodge is set back in the woods with a beautiful view but no cell phone or WiFi. Got a good meal and good rest and today at 6:30 I tackled Lolo. It only took me two hours to cover the 13 miles and along the way saw plenty of deer and very few trucks. Turns out Hwy 12 wasn't as bad as the map warned. After crossing Lolo and entering Montana I felt pretty good and today was able to do 65 miles and didn't get turned in to the Defense Department. Tomorrow I'll be on hwy 93 heading toward Chief Joseph Pass.

Faith Restored

Yesterday was hot. Record setting hot. I started out from White Bird early enough and since it was only 21 miles to Grangeville I was not too concerned about the climb out of the canyon. There were two ways out, the old, more scenic road or the new road which was advertised as steeper but straighter. The lady at the hotel recommended I go the old road because I'd see lots of animals and have beautiful scenery. So. lesser climb, better scenery, equals an easy choice. The first couple of miles out of White Bird consisted of small climbs and descents, rollers. Then came the switchbacks. I looked up and counted five. No problem, I can do this easy.
After climbing about two miles I looked up and counted again. Five, you've got to be kidding me. As I sucked down some water I looked to the left at the new road and started wishing I was over there. Bottom line, there were eight and a half miles of switchbacks and I am still not convinced the grade was any less. It took me about two and a half hours to crawl my way out of the canyon. Close to the top, I could only go from curve to curve and then have to rest. By the time I got to the top, I was whipped and almost out of water. I drank three bottles on the way up and was rationing the last little bit I had. I pulled into the scenic overlook for a rest and noticed a couple by their car admiring the view. As I rolled to a stop and peeled myself off the bike the man said hey that was a heck of a climb wasn't it. I was drained and could only nod my head. Would you like some water he asked. Oh yes I would, thank you, thank you, thank you. Turns out he was a fellow biker, mostly mountain bikes, and was sympathetic to the climb. Dick, Jessica and their five month old son Jordan, were life savers. After talking with the trio and downing half the bottle of water we separated as friends. With the extra water and downhill slope I easily made the next ten miles to Grangeville. Now only 27 more to go. I lunched at Subway, called Theresa, and thought about the underestimated climb. I was lucky. I didn't cramp because the Williams intervened. The ride to Kooskia was down slopping and would have been enjoyable had it not been for the long climb earlier. About ten miles outside of Kooskia I was flagged down by a woman and her blind husband. She offered me water and strawberries and wanted to talk about biking. She and Bob used to ride all over, taking trips of 500 to 600 miles on a tandem. Him the stoker, and her providing the vision. They were in their 70's and were retracing some of the route they had traveled years ago. We talked for about 30 minutes and during that time I felt comfortable enough to ask how he lost his sight. He had been blind for 30 years due to a hereditary retinue problem. A problem that can be corrected now but for Bob technology came too late. I made it to Kooskia and got the last room at the Western Inn. Today was my rest day. My knee is getting better and I have been drinking a lot of water. Tomorrow if I go at least 48 miles and 40 miles on Thursday, I should be able to scale Lolo Pass on Friday. Lolo Pass divides Idaho and Montana. Both days will be campsites, so I don't know if I can blog or not. I do know I'll have extra water.

White Bird

None! Not one person. Nary a sole in Oregon used their car window as a megaphone. How is it that already three people in Idaho think I can understand what they are yelling when I am going 20mph and they are going 65 mph in the opposite direction. Why? Why do Idahoans yell out the window? Maybe they were warning me about the crickets. After 65 miles today I called it a day and signed in at the White Bird Motel in White Bird, Idaho. The lady that signed me in was nice and recommended either of the only two restaurants in the 110 person town. So, I stopped at the first one, The Silver Dollar. Dr Hook may have had something to do with the choice. Anyway, the cook/waitress sternly informed me I was only entitled to one refill of Mountain Dew. OK. Now, before I left my room I checked for WiFi and found three secured sources. So, on the off chance that the Silver Dollar was one of them, I took my laptop with me. Mistake number two. I asked the cook/waitress if they had WiFi. No. Is there anybody that sells WiFi access. Nobody has WiFi she says. Hmmm.
As I ate my burger and fries the cook/waitress' daughter and another portly man came in and started talking about computers and the man even talked about his laptop and WiFi. I get it. I am not one of them and I think I hear a banjo in the distance. When I went to pay my tab, the daughter took my money. I discreetly asked her if someone had WiFi that I could pay for access. She looked at the cook/waitress and then said no. The cook/waitress said again no one has WiFi. I couldn't stop the words, they just oozed out. Well if nobody has it why do I get three secured sources? Stare...Stare...Then I said who is Angels Nook. Oh that's the RV park behind the hotel. Thank you! I knocked on the door of the RV park and they were as nice as could be. I even had to insist they take a couple of dollars for the password. So far I am 100% Oregon and 50/50 Idaho. I attached three photos, one of Halfway, Oregon-beautiful little town, long horned sheep I saw along the Snake River just before leaving Oregon and the Salmon River which I followed today for over 30 miles.

Hi Dee Ho-Idaho

Woke up this morning to a perfect day in Halfway, Oregon. Not a cloud in the sky. I had a breakfast of strawberries and Gatorade and took my prescribed dose of Motrin that my personal nurse recommended. I dropped of the key, took one last look at the beautiful mountainous backdrop that makes Halfway a nice place to visit and hit the road. From Halfway to Oxbow there was a downhill grade and the temperature was ideal. At Oxbow I made a hard right turn, climbed a small hill and turned pretty much South again except this time I had the Snake River to my left. The Snake is a pretty wide river below the Brownlee Dam and I followed it for 11 miles. It was a perfect day so there were many boats, RVs and fishermen out enjoying the day. Along the way I scared a deer out of its bed and saw three long horned sheep walking the ridge to my right. After biking for over two weeks I finally came to the Brownlee Dam and Idaho. Looking back, it was tough. Oregon is a beautiful, biker friendly state but presents a good challenge for someone who bikes through it, especially in the Spring. And, I felt a huge sense of accomplishment as I crossed the Snake River. I had a pretty good climb up to the top of the Reservoir and then rolling hills till I came to the six mile climb out of the canyon. After climbing out of the canyon I had 17 miles of alternating downhill to level road to Cambridge. But then I started getting slapped in the face with bugs. At one point I looked at the road and it was covered in what I thought were grasshoppers but then realized they were crickets. It looked like the head cricket blew a whistle and they all started crossing the road at the same. I could even hear them crunch as a broke there formation. Welcome to Idaho.

Hell's Canyon

I climbed Dixie Pass and then camped in the woods at Austin Junction. The next day I in climbed Tipton Pass and Sumpter Pass and rode on to Baker City. I rode on to Baker City because on my Transamerica map it showed it all down hill. Not so fast old wise one. Even though the road followed the Powder River there were still, what the locals call, small hills to climb. When I was about a mile from the top of Sumpter Pass it started snowing. THAT'S SNOWING! I had to stop and put more clothes on and when I screamed to the bottom of the pass I took some off again. Now, I am happily following the Powder River going into Baker City. I was about ten miles from the city when I noticed a huge dark cloud coming over the mountains to my left. I started pedaling faster trying to beat the storm. I had a tailwind so I made good time, but not good enough. About three miles from the city it started....SNOWING again. Not just snowing but ice balls...more like sleet that pelted my exposed fingers and face. And did I say it was cold? I limped into Baker City and got a room at the Bridge Street Inn and immediatly drew a hot bath. I thought I would take a rest day there because of the weather and a little problem I've had with my left knee. But today the weather was much better and the hot soaking bath had reduced the swelling in my knee, so I started out this morning for Richland. On the map again it shows the Powder going almost all the way to Richland, about 40 miles, and it looked to be all down hill, down hill into Hell's Canyon. Correct me if I am wrong Jean but what goes down must come up..right. I got to Richland around 2pm, didn't like the cost of the only hotel I saw and I kept looking at the sign that said Halfway only 13 miles. OK we do about 15 every day on the Island so no be deal. Wrong! About five switchbacks and two hours later I made Halfway...Halfway to what I haven't found out yet. Anyway I am booked here for two days of R&R and knee recovery. I once read or heard or was told by Spoke Man that if you have soreness on the inside of your knee, your seat is too low. If the soreness is on the outside of the knee then your seat is two high. Yesterday I adjusted the seat and today, I raised it a little more. Hopefully with the rest and seat adjustments the soreness will subside. After my R&R I am looking at the Snake River and Idaho.

Prairie City

This blog will have to be short. I am sitting in Prairie City getting my legs ready for Dixie Pass. I slept last night in a campground just East of Mount Vernon. Beautiful night and best night camping so far. Tonight I'll be in a remote area but hopefully I'll be able to add more two days from now. I came through Picture Gorge where 50 to 80 centuries ago the prehistoric Indians painted pictures and symbols on the walls. They used some kind of resin that over time became part of the rock. More later now I have 2000 feet to climb in nine miles. I had pictures of the gorge but somehow I can't find them. Crap! Now I have to start all over again. Arrived in Austin Junction, one store=groceries, gas, and resturant and to my amazement wifi.
Tomorrow I have two passes to go over one at eight miles and the next at 22 miles. Legs burners for sure.

Real Man

After I registered with Shannon at the Oregon Hotel/B&B, I unloaded some gear, took a hot shower and then walked next door to the Little Pine Cafe. I fed on a plate of eggs and home fries. I've noticed one thing about breakfast in Oregon, they serve a lot of potatoes with the meal. Real potatoes that make for a hearty meal. After my carb fest I went back to the room and grabbed the computer for the blog. Shannon had said I might not get access in my room so I came down to the front porch for Internet. A group of five had gathered on the porch so I just pulled up a chair. After about two minutes later this big burly gent offered me a beer. Hugh Reed. Hugh and Skeeter, his wife, own the Oregon Hotel and gas station across the road. Shannon is Skeeter's daughter and calls Hugh dad. The other two were Skeeter's younger daughter and her husband. Nice family, open, honest, down to earth. After Hugh offered me a beer we started talking and within 30 minutes he seemed like an old friend. He was born in Roswell, New Mexico but worked pretty much in California and Oregon. Hugh is 70 but you'd never know it. He's got a barrel chest and his forearms are like my calves. He's a contractor by trade, kinda like Ronnie my brother-in-law, and still has three caterpillars he runs including a number 9 that he ran off the side of a mountain. They have 28 horses of various types for sale and a full farm of animals they tend and Henry. Henry is an eight hundred pound black bear that Hugh saved when he was only a one year old cub. Now if you met Hugh in a bar and he said sit down I think you would. He strikes an imposing figure and is intimidating. He admits to being shot, stabbed, electrocuted and only knocked out once and that was by himself. Seems he was breaking a door seal loose and when it freed it knocked him off the stand onto the ground where he found himself when he woke up. I forgot to mentioned he's a martial arts expert and still does a routine to stay fit. His hands are toughened and scarred through the years of hard work and maybe a few battles along the way. Skeeter says she worries about him because he has rolled three backhoes over himself. And when he takes his hat off, you see the scars to prove it. Hugh is a strong man of principle and character, he still won't talk to the lady down the street who lied in court. But, yet gentle enough to have the love of Skeeter and her daughters who fondly call him dad and make a home for a doomed bear. Hugh is the real man. The real deal. If you ever get the opportunity to visit Oregon, go through Mitchell and spend some time with Hugh and Henry. Oh, and if you want gas, if Hugh or Skeeter aren't at the pumps, they may be at their favorite table in the Little Pine.

Wally World

As hard as it was getting to Sisters the easier it was leaving. It was a little cold but the sun was shinning and I had a ten to fifteen knot tailwind. Life was good. It was as if the the good Lord looked down and said, you poor dumb young'un I am going to cut you a break. I had level ground almost all the way and with the tailwind I made good time to Ochoco Reservoir about eight miles east of Prineville. I stopped at the state run campground and was met by Wally. Wally and his wife of 59 years run the park through the summer. He said I was the eighth person to come through so far this year. He also informed me the grocery store across the street had been closed two years. (I really need to look at those Transamerica errata sheets) I was bummed because I planned to load up there for the ride up Ochoco Pass.Wally came to the rescue! It seems Mrs Wally wanted Chinese takeout for dinner and Wally was heading into town and asked if I wanted to ride along. Wally is 74 and he and his wife live in an RV. When not tending to the campground they park at his granddaughter's and helps with the great grand kids. Since I was the only one in the park he gave me the primo spot. I think even Marty could catch a trout out of that lake. Beautiful setting with the mountains as a backdrop. And sometime during the night I thought I heard an Elk bellow from across the lake. Of course it could have been the burrito I had in Prineville. It was a little cold during the night and frost was on the ground this morning. I hurriedly packed got extra water and hit the road. No tailwind but another beautiful day. From the campsite to the pass it's 24 miles with a climb. But this climb was a slow uphill grade and only getting steep the last couple of miles. Along the way I noticed how dramatic the difference East and West Oregon really are. East Oregon gets about 60 inches of rain a year. (I think most of it fell on me) but West Oregon only gets about 10. Much more arid, almost desert like, sagebrush and all. East Oregon also has llamas, Eve. After the climb I was rewarded again with another six mile screaming dive to the valley below. After the descent, again, I was struck with the beauty and majesty of the Oregon mountains. Yesterday and today reaffirmed my reason for starting this journey. Two miles west of Mitchell I started back uphill. And when I leave the Oregon Hotel, I immediately have Keyes Creek Pass to climb. Now, I know that Real Man wouldn't, but, I am taking tomorrow off. There's less than 200 people in Mitchell and I am going to see how many I can meet.

Sisters

When I left Ellie's B&B I planned on 35 miles to split the distance to Sisters. That would make me fresh for the climb up Santiam Pass. As I started out no wind no rain, however that didn't last. Five miles out, rain again and a constant uphill grade. I logged the miles but when I started looking for places to sleep most of the campgrounds were closed. The wind and cold rain had taken its' toll and I needed rest. No problem, I have my three season tent and new gear purchased thanks to Kristi and Matt. I looked for a level spot off the road and started spreading my tent while trying to keep it dry. Hard to do. It was only three in the afternoon but I'd had enough for the day. I got some dry clothes on and settle back to rest. The rain was a constant patter on the tent fly and had me worried about getting wet. Now from three till dark what do you do in a tent in the woods when it's raining cold water. Read a book, didn't bring one-make a phone call, no service. So I tried to get comfortable and take a nap. I haven't found the correct way to force myself to go to sleep yet. Finally, the sun went down and I thought I'd sleep better. I was all snuggled in and of course had to go the bathroom. I put my boots on and went out when the rain slackened. As I did my business I started thinking about the photo of the puma the gas station attendant had shot. Quickly I went back to the tent and pulled the sleeping bag around me. What about bears, elk and rabid squirrels? What if a tree falls on me? I pulled my flashlight closer and my little companion even closer. Needless to say I spent a good portion of the night listening to the rain hit the fly and wondering when I'd be jerk out of the tent by my feet.
When the sun came up I got right to it. Still raining. I only had 35 miles to do today but I was nervous because at the end of yesterdays climb my legs were cramping.
Any other time the scenery would have been beautiful, today I didn't see much at all.
In addition to the rain there was fog, not heavy but enough to limit what I could see around me. Frankly, I looked about two feet ahead except when I was encouraging myself to make the sign, or curve guard or tree, anything to keep me moving. I would have liked to have taken a lot of pictures but due to the rain I kept digging. When I got to the summit I couldn't wait to start down. Snow covered most of the mountain so the temperature was much colder but the rain had not turned to snow. There was a six mile descent down the mountain. I now know what Jean experienced on her trip. Yahoo. When I got to the bottom my legs were like stumps and it took several miles before I got feeling back into them. I've got to be honest and say the last to days have been the toughest I've ever experienced on a bicycle. I am sure there are more ahead but for now these two take the cake.

Nimrod

Got back on the horse yesterday. The local news in Springfield said Sunday night the coast would be hit with tropical force winds and driving rain. Monday morning the news said around Springfield the winds wouldn't be high till around 4 o'clock. So I started toward the mountains. I had gone about 10 miles and it started to rain.
More rain! Just can't stay dry. To make matters worse the road has narrowed as I get closer to the mountains and shoulders are only about a foot wide. From Springfield to Nimrod the field elevation increased from 500 to 1000'. After 20 miles of rain, grade, and logging trucks, I took a chance on a B&B (Mckenzie River Inn) in Nimrod. I am glad I did. I was the only visitor and had the house to myself complete with fireplace and washing machine and dryer. Ellie the innkeeper was a delightful hostess. She has gone out of her way to make my stay wonderful. As I signed in I noticed the McKenzie River runs directly behind the house and humming birds everywhere. Ellie puts out bird feeders with sugar water and they were constantly zooming around the back porch. This morning I get breakfast with Ellie and then I'll be on my way. I am doing the blog this morning because there are limited facilities for the next two days. The next two days get tougher. A 5000 foot climb and the rain is supposed to continue till Thursday with limited facilities. Not sure where I'll sleep tonight.

Stalled

Yesterday was supposed to be a nice, easy, 40 mile ride to Springfield. Started out that way. I was a little cold the night I camped and Kristi and Matt found online, a sporting goods store about a block from my hotel. So I packed and biked there before I departed. I found an insert for my sleeping bag, wool socks, and more thermal underwear and picked their brain for awhile. After gathering my gear, repacking I departed Corvallis a little later than I wanted. But, no problem--just 40 miles with fairly nice conditions, a little overcast but the temperature was around 55. The first ten miles were uneventful, with good views of the mountains to my left and prime farmlands throughout. Several farmers had little stands set up along the way selling plants for regrowing. It wasn't a very busy highway so I doubt they sold very much. The wind picked up a little and since the route had a slight uphill grade I had to gear down. Then the rain started. Light at first, enough just to be annoying so I kept peddling thinking it would stop. It didn't and about ten miles down the road I donned a Walmart waterproof rain jacket. Now the rain is heavy. When I got to Harrisburg, about 23 miles, I stopped at a mini mart for a break. I was soaking wet. I quickly put on a dry shirt and made about five trips to the bathroom changing clothes and repacking again. I've thrown away two short sleeved shirts and a pair of shorts. I drank a sport drink, ate a banana and generally stalled an hour until the rain lighten. Back on the road I am feeling pretty good, I am dry and I have only about 14 miles to Coburg, then six to Springfield. I had gone about five miles and the wind picked up again and the rain started. Then the wind turned to gusts and heavy rain started. At about the worst part of the storm, I noticed a slight shimmy in the back. Oh no, not now, I thought. Yeah, the tire was slowly losing air. I looked for a sheltered place to hide and peddled harder but the leak didn't stop. Fearing I would make matters worse by riding nearly on the rim now, I stopped.Rain, hard rain, and frontal gust like wind. I noticed a farmhouse about two hundred yards across the road and pushed in that direction. Nobody was home, so I pushed another two hundred yards to a sole white framed house. The lady of the house gave me permission to change the tire on the porch. It took about an hour, because of all the gear. I only used the hand pump so I didn't have full pressure in the tire. But the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Riding into Coburg I met three other, loaded bikers doing the trail to Wyoming. They were stopping at Coburg but I had it in my mind to get to Springfield so I pressed on, missing a great opportunity. About five miles from Springfield I am bucking a ten knot headwind with a poorly inflated tire.That,s OK I can make it. Just outside of the town I stopped at a store for a drink and directions to the nearest hotel. Just go down the road, turn left, then turn right on main and you,ll see plenty. About two miles he says. After five I stopped acop and got directions to the Vally Inn where I got the last room available. After shedding my wet clothes and taking a hot shower I turned to the poorly inflated tire.I put the inflater with CO2 on and the tire firmed but when I pulled it away the stem came with it. Damn! What next. I went to get another tube and discovered I had only one more. The other two I bought for the trip are sitting safely at home. Needless to say I replaced the tube very, very carefully. I was beat, whipped and tired. Tomorrow is Sunday, bike shops closed, I am going nowhere. That was yesterday.Today, I found an open bike shop in Eugene and only a seven mile ride from the hotel.I had new tires, and brake pads put on and bought five spare tubes. I rode to and from Eugene through the park without being rained on and gratefully without another flat. The Eugene marathon was taking place through the park and lots of people were out and about, but little traffic. The bike shop was on 5Th Ave. a street similar to 5Th St in Austin, TX. lots of unique shops, bars, and restaurants. Missing the camaraderie with the three bikers yesterday and having an unexpected surprise of the beauty of the city of Eugene reminded me why I set out on this journey in the first place. You might say an elbow to the ribs.

Hotel Richie

Yesterday I went 75 miles (I took a shortcut). Along the way I saw the pretty countryside of Oregon. From Seaside to Bay City I saw beautiful, rich farm land and at one farm a herd of goats. They didn't faint when I rode by so I don't know what kind they were. The people I've met so far are friendly and helpful. For example, I made a water stop in Tillamook. The young lady behind the counter was so interested in my trip she went to her car and plugged cities into her GPS to show me distances, very nice. After I got my water and a Red Bull I stood outside relaxing and this man walked up and just started chatting. Turns out Dick Crossley owns the store and the Tillamook Country Smoker, a huge beef jerky factory. Before he left he gave me his card and made me promise to call him if I ran into trouble. A nicer man you wouldn't meet. Later on in the day I passed a huge herd of llamas of all types. I would have stopped and taken a few pictures for Eve but I was afraid I wouldn't get back on the bike. When I got to Grand Ronde I looked for the hotel noted on my map. Turns out it was a casino with attached inn that I am sure my sister Sandra could have stayed at free of charge. But, when I strolled into the lobby and asked for the rate I thought, now's a good time to checkout my camping gear. And the rate they were going to charge me was after I told them I was one quarter Cherokee and deserved the brotherhood rate. I John Wayned it back to my bike (remember 75 miles) and rode down the road to a Qwik Mart. By this time I was looking for anything as I was tired, legs were cramping and my butt was screaming stop. I got a corn dog and ask the attendant where the nearest campground was. Across the street. I never would have found it. I paid my ten dollars and pitched my tent near the bathhouse. I laid in the tent and listened to my Ipod until the sun went down and settled down for a good nights rest. Now, I have found the firmest mattress of all which made me toss and turn to find a comfortable position. Sometime during the night I heard voices, one said, yeah my sister has one like that. Then I heard one approaching my tent. I yelled out that they had better leave my stuff alone. Then one rushed to my bike and started opening my saddlebag pockets. I tried to jump up and couldn't, I was being held down. I started kicking but couldn't raise my legs. I was struggling to get up but couldn't move. Just before I screamed for my life, I woke up. These darn sleeping bags take some getting used to. And that's why I am in a hotel tonight. Today I biked only 50 miles on more level stretches. Oregon is really biker friendly and today I benefited from bike paths and wide shoulders. Some rolling hills, but nothing like the last two days. But looking at the map, the Cascades are looming with a 5000' climb.