Here’s some good news for the 11 of you who suffered through the seeing-all-30-mlb-baseball-stadiums blog: these posts will be shorter. Not because I have any sympathy for you (I don’t, really), but because these are being composed on a phone, which takes longer. But good news is good news, so don’t complain.
I rode 48 miles today. I won’t always mention this, as I can’t imagine you will want to hear it every day, but it’s the first day, so…I’m mentioning it.
They have hills in coastal Oregon. Which I wish someone had mentioned to me, as we do not have any in southeast Texas. Which means I didn’t train on any, other than the tall river-spanning bridges, and they don’t last all that long. Oregon’s coastal hills, the uphill ones that make 48 miles feel like 148 miles, last forever.
Oregon has a soft place in their collective hearts for bicyclists. They have bike lanes, for instance, and buttons that you push at the entrance to tunnels which causes lights over the entrance to the tunnel to blink, alerting motorists that somebody is pedaling their ass off INSIDE the tunnel, so the motorist can, if they want, try a little harder not to run over them. And Oregon has people who will offer you their back yard to camp in, which a guy did after I’d only ridden 20 miles. Which was nice, and made me feel better about things.
I also today ran into a guy biking from Astoria to San Diego. And 3 others riding from Canada to the Mexican border. And 3 people at 3 different beach overlooks (I took a lot of breaks today, it being my first day) who wanted to know just how far I was planning on riding. And I ran into a guy with blond hair to his shoulders who came riding in to the state park’s designated hiker/biker campsite (Oregon likes bicyclists) right at dark, and asked if he could share my hiker/biker spot, as the others were all taken. He said “man” a lot, this guy did, said he’d been out riding since April, and said he averages about 80 to 100 miles a day. But by then he already had his tent set up, so there wasn’t much I could do.
The next morning he offered me a bud. I politely declined, which didn’t seem to hurt our fellow-biker relationship at all. That didn’t happen until I started to take his picture, as he rolled out his bud right there on top of his smart phone.