Impossible feats

Yesterday at camp, we met a guy who cycled from the top of Washington state (Bellingham, WA) to our campground in Bullards Beach with a FIXED GEAR bike. He had two panniers, and NO BRAKES.

Misty looked at me and said: "I have to text Rob."
We then started giggling in amazement at how amazing an absurdly superhuman that was considering how much trouble we were having with our multiple gears. The giggling then just gave way to major laughing fits as we proceeded to imagine ourselves trying to perform such a feat.

Janius Tsang

coast+beaches does not = warm

The title of this post is not exactly the best title since it addresses only the last part of a completely fabulous cycling day in Oregon. However, I'll talk about that headline first because it's got a story associated with it.

It is somewhat hard to explain and my esteemed friends in earth sciences please help me here, but on the coast here it is FREEZING. The temperature hasn't risen above 20C and with the wind it feels like only 12-15C. That is not bikini weather. So after a great day of cycling, a super hot shower in one of the state park campgrounds near the beach is always a welcome event. I pack my stuff up, scurry to the showers and am greeted by a lady who had just finished her hot shower. "It's so great to have one of these, the hot showers feel so good." "Yeah, I am looking forward to mine" I reply.

I hop into the stall and really enjoy the thawing sensation in my hands and feet. I adjust the temperature by turning the cold water down. I adjust bit more, a bit more again and realize that the cold water tap is now actually off. I am hoping now that this is just temporary and keep the water on hoping for it to get hot again. It doesn't and then the bathroom suddenly gets really loud because I am swearing and laughing as I turn off the frigid shower water.

"Excuse me, excuse me ma'am!"
"yes?"
"uh, can you please turn on the hot water tap for the sinks to see if theres any hot water? this shower has run out of hot water!"
"there's hot water out of the shower next to you."
"oh wow, ok (omygodomygodomygod)" as I run from my shower stall into the other one.

I got my shower, and I figured that I should hurry up since the hot water supply wasn't likely to last. As I finish my shower, I hear a loud "OOOoo!! oh my that's a shock!" two stalls down. I chuckle sympathetically.

Anyway, I am still alive. The day was still fabulous since it was easy cycling with a tailwind along stunning shorelines bathed in sunshine and flowers and greenery.

Our first stop was at the Cape Foulweather viewpoint which happily had good weather. We lunched at the Yaquina Head lighthouse, climbed up inside it and saw the huge prisms that magnify the lonely light from its core. We had our first encounter with sea lions and seals, watching them from above sunbathing on the warm black volcanic rocks of the coastline in this region. Looking up slightly, huge flocks of sea birds nest on rock islands with steep sea cliffs. The many years of nesting made the black islands look like cans of white paint had been poured over them.

Cycling was smooth as we cruised over modern bridges, looking occasionally to the west to watch the sky change colors. We lounged around in the sun eating saltwater taffy of unknown flavors, then sat around a smoky but warm campfire chatting with another cyclist from Austin, TX named Jacob. He's trying to get to San Fran as well, except he's planning to stay there.

I told misty and mariana as we set up our tents: "I'm so happy I think I feel like I'm high."

And then there were three

Today we had to say bye to Leah and Nick. Leah's knee wasn't cooperating and it would have been folly for her to go on. However, through the magic of modern telecommunications, they will stay in contact and hopefully give us previews of stuff we must not miss. They also promised not to drive by us while we cycle hilly Northern California and wave. I am sad to see them go as they have been really fun to have as cycling buddies as well as examples for how you can eat healthy while camping. I wish them a great vacation and to Leah a speedy and full recovery.

Janius Tsang

highway connaisseur

Having ridden on various types of roads over the past 11 days, I've noticed some small changes in me. I have emotional responses that vary with the width of the shoulder, the grade of the hill, and the quality of pavement on a highway. I visually inspect the road in front for sparkles, gravel patches, and obstacles. I am attuned to the various whirrings of motor vehicle types approaching from behind. I have become a highway connoisseur.

Highway connoisseurs get excited and breathe a sigh of relief when a road is smooth, flat, well-paved roads with wide shoulders and little traffic. They also groan in dread when looking at a uphill with no shoulder, coarse and potholed with high RV traffic. Sometimes, a complicated shoulder presents an interesting challenge. For example, it can be fun trying to ride within a three-inch ribbon of high-grade asphalt on the narrow shoulder of a secondary highway that has been paved several times. The asphalt is layered unevenly, such that sometimes a ribbon of smooth stuff peeks out between two layers of coarser asphalt of different vintages. The challenge is to stay within this ribbon. Other highway qualities such as sparkliness, graveliness and sandiness can also be commented on. Gravelliness means you have to maintain your speed and your hands on the handlebars. Sparkliness on a highway indicates the possibility of a glass sharpness that bike tires aren't compatible with. Sand on the shoulder means get off the bike or ride in the car lane because riding in sand patches likely lands you in trouble. Like a real connoisseur I have opinions and tastes and am getting picky about the highways I want to ride on.

Janius Tsang

On the road again

Trying to describe the last two days seems a bit daunting to me. I feel it is a bit like having to do the impossible task of describing a great movie in three lines. Nonetheless, I'll try my best.

The Oregon coast is visually stunning. Even more noteworthy though, are the smells that are starting to get my attention. Perhaps it's the progressively (albeit slowly) warmer weather or maybe I am sensitized to it because I'm always breathing deeply. Whatever the reason, I love being surprised by smells such as the saltiness of ocean air. The soft sweetness of grass and wildflowers heated by sunshine. The damp fresh smell of forests. The sharp, concentrated salty odor of fishmongers. The deluciously characteristic smell of fresh oysters pan-fried. Caramelized sugar smells from the local candy store. Ripe nectarine perfume coming from a bin in Safeway. It's so wonderful to have the time to listen closely to what your senses are telling you.

Our route follows the US 101, which brings us to many quaint seaside resort and vacation towns. We stopped at Cannon Beach yesterday night, one of such towns. The villages usually are centered around a main street, with several cafes, restaurants, and often stores selling knick knacks often antiques, but ranging from lawn flamingoes to surf gear or outdoor gear. So many of the establishments were decorated with the owner's heart and soul, making it even more charming. As we rode further south, I realized that the highway often ran alongside railroad tracks. There used to be a train that ran along this coastal scenic route but is no longer in service. Perhaps someday it might be revived to help weary cyclists bypass the hillier sections of the Oregonian coast. ;)

speaking of weary cyclists, i am falling asleep after a day of several big climbs...

Janius Tsang

note to drivers

A plea: if ever you are driving a car and you are sharing a narrow tunnel with a very narrow shoulder with a fully-loaded cyclist, please DO NOT ever think that honking at them is an intelligent idea. We can already hear your loud engine sound reverberating and amplifying through the tunnel. We are aware that there is not too much space in a tunnel. We are aware that if we wipe out we might be spread on the tunnel wall like jam on toast. We are pedaling as fast as our little legs can handle, and I can assure you that we are feeling somewhere between worried and terrified, which would be the opposite of relaxed.
If you honk, it is about 50 times louder for the cyclist and then on top of that another 120 times louder in the tunnel. We are likely to freak like deer, brake and end up causing more problems. So a little room, a little time and a little understanding is all we usually need even if we do take up the whole lane. I promise most of us aren't doing that for jollies.
This rant is in response to the dude who honked at us while we were trying to dash uphill through the Cape Arch Tunnel in Oregon. After startling two of us with the honking, my friend ahead of me braked and looked like she was going to get off her bike. Next thing I know I have tipped over and hit the side of the tunnel and my friend has done the same but she's fallen right into the middle of the traffic lane. I run out to grab her in case traffic doesn't stop but thankfully she gets up and we haul her bike up as quick as we can. Thank goodness of the big rig truck driver saw this happen and had the presence of mind to stop and block oncoming traffic off until we got back on our bikes.
As for mister motorist, as he exited the tunnel he slowed down enough to shout something to my friends who were already out of the tunnel. "Your friends fell in the tunnel" he shouts, as he drives away...
Janius Tsang

Alternative

We left Portland yesterday afternoon and even today I was fleetingly tempted to take one of the highway exits back towards that city. Even though I only spent about 36 hours in the city center, I walked away totally impressed with how very eclectic and modern a city it is. Somewhat of a hidden gem, a home for alternatives, outcasts, and variety.
Friday night while I was just taking it easy in the university-run hotel, Portland greeted my friends with a parade of clowns in the downtown area. It was part of the Portland Rose festival, whose numerous food stands, carnival rides, and corporate booths were spread out along the entire waterfront area. The mix of people there reminded me a little of the summertime bustle in the old port in Montreal with two currents of people mingling. Wandering families and tourists meander while tons of fit-looking people on bikes or in jogging shoes weave in and out among them.
The next morning I wandered out and basically was struck by the following things: 1. there was no garbage ANYWHERE 2. garbage and recycling bins were emptied and were super well designed. 3. The architecture was a mix of modern and colonial, all clean and new 4. the urban planning!!!! Not only do they bike lanes plus trams plus buses alongside cars, they even have skate routes (boards and roller)!!! 5. Even the water fountains were alternative, consisting of four individual fountains on a pedestal so that four people could drink at once. 6. outdoor international food stalls that take up entire city blocks where you can find a Thai, Indian, Scottish, vegan, fish and chips, smoothies, Portuguese and sushi in a row. 7. coffee shops are more frequently available than water fountains. There is much to like in downtown Portland.
My favorite thing about Portland has to be the variety of people who are not mainstream. The lady who made and sold me my tie-die dress who also works as a diving instructor in Hawaii. The woman with a princess tiara glued to her bike helmet. The tattooed man with the black knitted tuque with a side view of a skull knitted on both sides separated by a fluffy black wool fringe like a Mohawk down the middle of his head. The busker band that used construction pylons as mikes. The perfect Polish matron with long platinum blond curls framing a face protected by a thick shield of make-up serving misty a healthy dose of sausage, pierogis, potatoes, onions and baconbits. The collections of And it goes on. Even the faux-riche and rich folks were out and about enjoying the sunshine in downtown Portland.
I have no clue why but we all got stuck with a single song for this portion of our journey (and probably for the rest of the trip). Misty can't stop humming Don't Stop Believin' by none other than Journey. We found the greatest hits CD in a used CD shop, christened our rental car player with it on the way back to Astoria, and now we're cursing the fact that we left the lyrics in the car. None of us can get past the first four lines of the first verse, so we just keep singing the chorus...
Janius Tsang