Category Archives: photography

Reedsport almost to Pt. Orford

The reason we stopped ten miles short of Pt. O was because the KOA right next to the road had a “Hot Tub Here!” sign and that just sounded too good after these 75 mile days so we stopped.
Derek who is still with me most of the time, made a great fire with one match and that was nice after my hot tub. Also he suggested that I didn’t need to set up my tent each time i camp as there are no bugs here. I followed that suggestion which saved me a lot of time.

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This part of the coast is forest until its ocean and sometimes it’s a little of both at once. There are also amazing stretches of sand dunes.

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We pass through little towns with clever signs like, “Rock on in, Roll on out” at the Auto Lube place and “Curl up and Dye” at the beauty parlor but they must have taken it too far because the place was now vacant under the sign and for sale.
There are lots of bridges to go over, some scary with no shoulder, some big climbs, and some easy with wide shoulders. Here’s a picture of one in the distance. They are all fairly old with atmosphere.

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People have fun things in their yards.

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Other people simply have beautiful old houses.

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The toughest part of the ride was “Seven Devils Drive”. It was up and down and up and down and up and up and at first I thought the “devils” referred to the hills but there were more than seven. Then I started noticing the side road names like “Drunken Devils Drive” and “Stock Still Lane” and “Gin Run”. It was this backwoods scenic route jag on the ACA (American Cycling Association) map and the whole hilly ordeal I think could have been avoided but that’s the sort of thing you know afterwards.
The coast here is gorgeous. The mornings are sunny and the afternoons are ghostly with thick fog. The wind can get so furious that I fear for getting blown over the edge. Of course the wind can’t do that to me but it is so intense I feel like it could.

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I have been writing this in a local homey restaurant with wood paneling, wifi and next to an outlet. Derek wakes up later than me and doesn’t eat a big breakfast. I thought he would have caught up with me here by now but he hasn’t so I’ll just carry on as my battery is at 100% and I’m done with yesterday.
California is 100 miles away.

Newport to Reedsport

We three left the hotel for the bike shop which opened at ten. Elijah needed a back brake cable. Derek needed a new intertwine as he’d given his to Elijah to fix his flat yesterday and I needed toe clips.
After a long heroic day of biking I have for the last time ended it by falling flat on my back from my bike simply because I couldn’t get out of my cleats in time. That really hurts and it is extremely embarrassing as well.
NO ONE we have seen touring is wearing clip in shoes which surprised me. Derek is wearing crocks! A woman we met on road named Katie is wearing sandals! And Elijah and the Brazilians (I’ll get to them later) are wearing fancy tennis shoes.
After the bike shop, we went to a fancy cafe in the old pricey part of Newpprt and had an absolutely perfect breakfast for not so much money. With full tummies and home backed cookies to go we set off towards 50 mile away Florence where Elijah needed to meet his friends.

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We went over lots of bridges today and they were all built quite a while ago with fantastic sculptural markers on both sides of the road on both sides of the river.

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This last one had these cool cast glass pyramid things. I hope they light up at night.
These are big seals shot from one of these bridges. I know they look tiny here but the zoom is only so much on the phone camera. They were big seals.

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Elijah was constantly setting up his tripod and photographing.

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We were often looking down on things, either from the bridges or from high on the cliffs down to the beaches below.

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Admittedly all this is very beautiful but the most beautiful by far thing I experienced today was these two incredibly amazing Brazilian guys we met.

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Granted they are good looking but that is nothing next to their spirits. They started biking in Buenos Aires Argentina!! And biked all the way up the atlantic coast of south America, entirely through the coast of Brazil and then at the mouth of the Amazon River they flew to Miami and from there biked to Chicago and from there they went to Seattle and they were planning to go to Alaska but their timing was off and it is too late in the season to bike in Alaska so they started down the pacific coast and are going all the way down and around to end up again in Argentina!

When we met them we asked them where they were going and with big smiles, they said “South”. There was such an appealing simplicity and lightness to them but there was nothing light about what they were carrying. There were loaded down with everything!

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You can see in the photo the guitar and the Brazilian flag and the box with the drum inside it. It was simply not an option for them to travel without instruments because they said they have to play everyday. They also had full camp cooking gear and solar powered battery panels and even a plastic alien animal whose head bobs up and down as they pedal. At home they are music teachers and teach about ecology through music. They were hugely inspirational and it was an honor and a joy to encounter them and in a way a huge relief to see such bright vital energy on the planet and basically they were just having fun. Wow. What an example. You can see the little bobbing toy I hope in this next photo.

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We carried on until Florence where the three of us had our final meal together in Elijah’s favorite Mexican place.

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It was sad to leave him especially as it took me so long to find him but such is life. I hope to see him again one day and I’ll get it right from the start if I have the chance.
Derek and I continued on another 25 miles to Reedsport. I am trying to do 75 miles a day which will put me home in a week.

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This is where I am for the night and these next three photos I shot coming back to tonight’s spot after my chocolate milk shake of a dinner.

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Plus one extra shot I forgot to include.

JUST THIS.

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Pacific City to Newport

I forgot to mention the bunnie rabbits at our campsite. There were lots and lots of them! The camp store even sold bunnie food. They just hopped around and were not caged in any way.
The kids at the campground particularly loved them.
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I got up early and went to a great cafe. This town has two campgrounds, a hotel, a pizza place, a taco place, a pub, a grocery store and a great cafe.
After tanking up on the blog and the coffee, I did laundry and Derek was up by then and we set off to meet Elijah in Lincoln City. After a huge climb, we made it and met Elijah! Hallelujah!

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We three had a great time riding together. Elijah is everything my good friend Joanna said he was. He’s lively , funny, smart, artistic, spiritual and has a 26 year old slender muscular athletic frame. He’s very elf-like in a good happy way.
These are some of the places the three of us passed through on our 55 mile day.

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This next photo was taken at Foulweather Cape where the winds reach 100 miles an hour occasionally. It was windy but that didn’t stop us from eating tons of huckleberries.

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Here’s one of elf man new age leader.

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Here’s more of our day’s terrain.

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Just as we were almost to our destination, Elijah got a flat.

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We carried on and found some blackberries. It seemed like we would never stop eating them. It was hard to tear ourselves away.

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Finally we settled on dinner at Lee’s Chinese which had a hotel. We got a huge room that was more like a family apartment complete with three beds, dressers, desk, round table. chairs, kitchenette and bathroom.
All this for $25. Each.
I was glad because I wanted a bath and I am way tired. My pad under my sleeping back inflates but then slowly looses air all might so it’s flat I’m the morning. There tonight I am also grateful for a bed.
Goodnight.

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Warrenton to Pacific City

I didn’t make it the 105 miles to Lincoln City. I am 20 miles north of there and will have to make this short so I can get to Elijah.
I did 100 miles but part of that was a detour because I started riding with Derek who I met on a vista point outside of Seaside and he’s going from Vancouver to LA. Dispute the fact that he does things like 8 hour tri-athelons in Hawaii I was able to keep up with him and was even faster on the hills. Go figure.20120812-083732.jpg
So Derek and I rode at the same speed with the same habits (grocery store food). Also he does digital animation in LA and is well traveled so we had a lot in common and he was easy to talk to. I met him early and we did 90 miles together.
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We did some crazy hard summits; one of which Derek walked his bike. Right, and you’ve seen how fit he is, so now there’s proof how hardcore I am. Tee hee!
That hardest summit was crazy unreal. It just kept going up and up and up and then the whole world and weather changed. It was like we were in the cloud and it was misty moisty everywhere. The trees were crowding in from both sides to a canopy overhead and the greenest of green ferns underneath we’re whirling and shwooshing wildly in the gusty wind. There wasn’t sun and only whiteness ahead with that slip of a gray road with a yellow line turning the corner ahead and still going up. Also, there were no cars so the only sound was the wind. A few times I thought it was raining but it was just all the fog condensation being blown from the trees and it was cold. It was very magical and I had a wish to enter into another dimension like in a fairy tale. But it didn’t happen; or maybe it did and I can back.
I stopped and waited for Derek as it was getting almost scary alone and soon after that made it to the top which seemed like it would never come.

The downhill was like an amusement ride! First there was a view of the beach below which was idyllic and far away tiny with cerulean water. After that we went through this strange plain of sand everywhere even though we were still way up in the mountain. It is like the trees growing on the rock photo earlier. Both things make sense just not together in that context. Following this going madly down was a furious wind tunnel hitting us from below.
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It was super fun!!!
We ended up in the bottom where we were met with heat and bright sun. Wow. Another 20 miles we stopped at Pacific City where there were no tent sites.
Derek was adamant that by law (!?) you HAVE to give a tent site to a biker. The guy looked confused. So Derek says “OK do you have a price of grass then?”The guy said “yeah..” and charged us $5 each. Go Derek.
So we set up, SHOWERED!! (most of the day I was soaked in sweat) and then we split a pizza. After reading in our separate tents, Derek (computer guy) told me that there was a meteor shower at 11:00 so we popped out to watch the beginning of that which was more magic and I knew Noah was watching it because a couple years ago we watched this same meteor shower together.
Now it is morning and I got to get off to meet Elijah. Mad lulu ego. (That’s auto-correct for “mas lluego”

St Helens to Warrenton

Alright then, I haven’t had Internet for a day or two so there’s a lot to remember and that’s what I will try to do.
Somehow I lost my lock between the bridge juncture and St. Helens which I realized when I stopped at the bookstore in St Helens so I went to the bike shop. It was run by an older couple who were very nice and pumped up my tires to the max as well. I wanted to keep my “Ride For a Reason” water bottle which I used throughout the last trip but my water started tasting like plastic so I switched it out for one of theirs.
By the morning I still hadn’t heard from Elijah so I didn’t go to Portland but back tracked the twenty miles towards the coast.
I again saw a lot of lumber which travels a lot on trucks but here it is on a train. Most often there are train tracks by the road and sometimes there is something on them.

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I had blackberries by the side of the road for breakfast. They were delicious.

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Didn’t drink from the well but the image was nourishing enough.

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I was feeling a little discouraged which one does at least a bit each day because it’s hard and you think to yourself “WHY am I doing this again?” especially when you are alone. I made it to Mt. Rainer for breakfast and the ladies’ room wall was covered with inspirational sayings.

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That helped remind me.

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The Oregon lottery is big. Some restaurants have fill in the number bubble sheets at the tables. They (and small grocery stores) will have a room in the back that you have to be 21 to enter. That’s where the machines are. The people going in and out of those don’t look so good. When a place has a room like this, it has a sign outside like this.

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It was more beautiful and rural and the terrain was no longer flat but summit after summit with downhills in between. One downhill was 2.5 miles of a 6% grade. That was intense.
Climbing over a pass that has been well traveled. . .

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Is often trees on both sides. Here are some shots of what’s in between the climbs.

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After 70 miles I made it to the coast.

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Yippee! It felt like a real accomplishment!! Only trouble was that Astoria was packed with people for the Regata and ten miles south in Seaside it was packed due to a national volleyball tournament and a big sand castle competition and so on for the Oregon coast in the month of August. It’s like salt water taffy and tourists and no place to sleep unless you’ve planned far in advance. Ha! So I went on over the bridge to Warrenton

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where I paid way too much for me for a hotel room and it was so full I couldn’t get Internet.
I did get a text finally from Elijah. He was in Portland and all bummed out and sort of mad at me for not hooking up with him! At first I couldn’t get it but then I saw it from his side and we texted back and forth and agreed to meet further down the coast in Lincoln City. It is 89 miles from Portland and 105 miles from where I was. We agreed to try to make it there by nightfall. I managed to book the LAST KOA RV site as there were no campsites left due to a golf tournament and other stuff going on there this weekend so it’s full.

Centralia WA to St. Helen’s

75 miles of pleasant rolling hills today.

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After 55 miles I went over the giant bridge from Washington to Oregon. It was freaky. Like going over the bay bridge but smaller. There was practically no shoulder and the cars were going an easy 60 an hour. I know it doesn’t look like much in this bad photo, but it was.

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The ride today was mostly rural but it did get industrial, especially with the lumber. The lumber industry is just fine in southern Washington.

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Even though there was something appealing about these giant trees being stacked like pencils, I still prefer them living.

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When I wasn’t in the trees I was in more open land like this.

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With the occasional curiosity.

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I stopped at an expresso box today and asked about the “Barbie” stands. The lady at this expresso box told me that there used to be three “Barbie” stands in her town but the town somehow managed to close them down. She said she was glad that her expresso place was family friendly.

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I was almost out of battery and I am camping at the city park which has nothing but a bathroom and the laundrymat didn’t have outlets so I am in a Mexican restaurant at a table next to a power outlet.

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I was supposed to meet my biking partner Elijah but we haven’t crossed paths yet. We were supposed to both start out from Bellingham August first but unexpected things on both our sides prevented that.
However those things passed and he started south from Bellingham and I started south from Seattle and it seemed last night from our communication that he would definitely catch up with me today but he didn’t.
He doesn’t have a cell phone. Hellooo? So it’s like impossible to communicate. When I got over the bridge I wanted to take 30 East to the coast. Hwy 30 is the Lewis and Clark trail by the way. Instead I took 30 another twenty miles south just in case Elijah was going to hitch a ride to Portland. Or what?
He has an iPod touch with a phone app. ? Right. So I leave messages and texts and emails but so far: nada. Sigh. So tomorrow I’ll back track over these last twenty miles and go another fifty more and end up at the KOA on the coast just west of Astoria OR.
Also, let me just give one loud shout out to Oregon for bike paths everywhere and large good shoulders on every road!
Not so in Washington. In Washington the white line is the shoulder. What’s up with that?

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Puyallup to Centralia

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These guys were eating at the same cafe in Puyallup as we were. Nicole is so open hearted she can make instant friends with anyone. Two of these guys had been mayor of Puyallup for several terms and the other one was long standing superintendent of schools. The mayors said anyone who stays in Puyallup long enough ends up being mayor.

After Nicole took this photo, we split ways. She went to the bus station to catch the bus to Tacoma where she caught the train to Seattle.
I continue on the STP ( Seattle to Portland bike route) to go up the only hill on the route. The hill is quite easy but there are no trail markers at the top of the hill so I got lost for about two hours riding around but eventually I made my way back to the STP bike path in the town of Stanaway.
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There are drive in expresso shacks everywhere. The risquΓ© ones were just by the industrial parks. They are called “Barbie’s”.

Maybe why there is so much caffeine everywhere is because it is a depressing climate?
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You see many churches as well but some of the church buildings are now mini marts and then there is this one20120808-213404.jpg
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I hope it all balances out.
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I’m back in the groove of eating out of grocery stores. As I sat on the bench next to my bike outside UnSafeway, this grocery store older man (tag on shirt) comes over and says brightly “Hi! How are you?”
I say “Great, and you?” He says, “Great too, thanks” and then he moves away to smoke his cigarette (which is why he is outside).
Then he says hello to another woman in the same way, only he addresses her by name and they clearly know each other in a daily way.
She answers his question with a kind of whiney, “oh I’m OK I guess”
He then in a friendly encouraging way, says “oh come on, you can do better than that” Her response to this is to start ragging on him about his smoking.
Then he says with a smile one run on sentence which I’m not quite sure how to punctuate. “yeah I know one of these days I’m gonna die”.

20120808-215628.jpg I ended today in Centralia which is a nice town with lots of old old buildings.

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I couldn’t find nuts in the grocery store here so the cashier told me to check the bulk aisle which looked like this πŸ™‚

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July 21, new plans

Batman massacre aside, Sarita was right in not wanting to continue through Colorado.
Amy Goodman mentioned yesterday on “Democracy Now” that you can now see the flames of the fires from space! She had on the air with her an ecology expert who explained that this current global change heat wave could be as bad as the one in 2003 which caused 71,000 deaths in Europe. So it is all well and good that we are not biking through that heat anymore.
Also, the day after she got home, Sa was offered a job which she is now doing Monday through Friday in addition to finishing the international baccalaureate program at Berkeley High and applying to colleges. It’s way more than too much and she is perfectly placed being home.

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We left right after the last blog on Saturday afternoon and put the pedal to the metal and got home Sunday afternoon!
It was horribly fast. When we first got in the car and started driving, Sarita felt disconcerted with how fast the land was all flying by. Myself, as well. Also, I had grown a costumed to tons of silence while just watching the land so having a conversation with my friend was difficult even though she is a fascinating person.
I was not ready to be home. To appease myself, I am doing a daily ride of 112 to 14 miles with 1300 to 1680 feet of climbing. (Thank you STRAVA app) Up to “Grizzly Peak” and back daily.

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This is “Skyline Drive” in Oakland in the morning before the fog has burned off. It is magical and early morning bikers all say hello to each other which is not the case later in the day.
When you get up to Grizzly Peak, the right side of the road looks like this

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The left side of the road is impossible to photograph much less with an iPhone while biking but I have tried. Perhaps tomorrow I can get one worth putting up here. The view is thousands of home, big highways that look like small grey ribbons, the brightly reflecting water of the SF Bay and the mystically vague looking land which lies beyond the water. That of course being San Francisco.

Not too shabby I know.
Still, I don’t have to start working again until the end of August
So August first
I am flying to the Northern tip top US airport on the West Coast (Bellingham WA) and
I am planning to bike from there down Highway One to home.
Not too hot and without mountains. I’m thinking 2 1/2 weeks which is what I have available.
We’ll see.

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Here is a picture of Sarita and I in the Great Salt Desert. We took the road I biked on when I was 21 back to SF. There is no way in heaven or hell you could bike that now. There is nothing there. Unfortunately, what I see everywhere is the disappearance of a small family owned business in favor of the chain on the interstate (and precious few of them on this land, which apparently is just to be driven through).

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Amazingly, on said land, are some young gentleman scientist types who have serious professional apparatus and organic plant paraphernalia like seeds and such. They are doing an experiment
To see if people can grow food on the moon.
I am not sure how I feel about that.

July 6,Randolph UT to Evanston Wyoming

We set off from Randolph about ten with only thirty five miles to go to Evanston where we were to meet Kaline and her son Santi who were going to take Sa home with them.
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We stopped at a small “country store” as they are called here. They are as close as you can come to a grocery store and we bought yogurts and bananas for breakfast.
We weren’t going fishing but I couldn’t help but to photograph the worms for sale in the fridg as I’d seen it a lot.


In the back rooms of these country stores are hairdressers. Ladies come from as far as fifty miles away to have their hair done.
Around here, gun control means using both hands and men enjoy having lawn mower races and kids have names like “Gunner” and “Pixie”.
While eating outside in the shadow of a country store we saw a black bear go by in the back of a blue pick up truck!

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We crossed over into Wyoming….
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and made it to Evanston still early in the day.
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Here’s where it starts getting sad. This day is the last day of the long ride which totaled 985 miles which is almost a third of the country but not the entire thing.
When I was 21, quite a while ago, I bicycled from San Francisco to Washington, DC. I have done this once and have no great need to prove myself. Maybe any proving to myself I had to do, I’ve done from Oregon to Wyoming. I feel younger and more capable than ever physically and very cleared out mentally.
The highest part of the trip clearly was doing it with Sarita (and Noah when he was with us.) We were more like comrades on an adventure that constantly needed readjusting rather than a parent with children.
I want to continue but really there is no point in doing it alone, especially not with the unusually high temperatures and wind and fires.
The last couple nights I have been open to dreams for guidance and twice I dreamt about yoga and once I dreamt about putting an engine on a bike.
As if that wasn’t enough we met firefighters at breakfast. They were huge and rough. They were recruited from the west coast of Oregon to fight the fires in Colorado and Wyoming. Their descriptions of these situations was brutal. We met firman at lunch as well. They were helicopter fireman and said that firemen were being recruited from all over the country to fight these western flames. I can’t see riding through all that around me alone. In the morning, the firefighters short circuited the electricity by using the microwave, toaster and waffle iron all simultaneously. I thought that was kind of funny.
So with a saddened grateful and accepting heart, Sa and I went to the thrift store and got new old overalls and changed into them.
This is us in the dressing room (no camera here but ours).
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In our new outfits we got boxes from the thrift store and boxed up our bike clothes and helmets and everything else except for our toothbrushes and soap and sent it all back home as Kaline doesn’t have much room in her car. We hope she will have room for me too if I don’t have a lot of stuff.
Then we got the cheapest room in town and headed out for the rodeo!!!
Wow! For us it was a phenomenal experience as we’d never been to one before!
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Whatever you think of a rodeo, think again. It’s totally a family affair with kids as young as eight riding horses and roping calves. Girls too! Here’s a quick candid shot of one of my favorites.
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Most of the families out here seem to have four kids and there’s lots of blue eyed blonds. When the rodeo announcer would call the name of the contestant and the town they were from, we often had ridden through the town.
I now know why there are all those beautiful horses I saw in the pastures.The rodeo was like a different culture in another country. There
are even college rodeo scholarships in this other country.
The cowboy fashion was fantastic. Big cowboy hats on the tiniest boys and all the girls in pearl covered snap button blouses, fantastic belts and embroidered boots; jeans with rhinestone stitched pockets. I wanted to photograph the crowd as much as I wanted to photograph the horses but doing either was hard due to the angle of the setting sun from where we were sitting in the red section (cheaper) stands. We were sitting next to 2 kids who were with both sets of grandparents.
Once or twice when the announcer would call a name and a town he’d say “well now, that fella must a changed zip codes because that family name belongs in such and such a town”
We saw the intense events (which is what the ambulance is on hand for) like the bucking horses and bulls. That stuff is about exciting as pure power gets and when those guys fall off it seems like just plain luck that they aren’t trampled. We saw one guy get a little trampled but he amazingly got up and wobbled off on his own.
There are less frightening events like roping cattle and running the horses around barrels (which was one of the events the little process in pink did) and best of all: trick riding.
An event Sarita and I laughed our heads off watching was the “chicken catchers” for kids five and under. They lined up all the kids and then they simultaneously let three chickens and all the kids (about thirty) go at once. The chickens ran and darted around and the kids fell all over each other trying to catch them which they eventually did but not easily. It was hysterical.


The tremendous belonging and success of family and community is profoundly felt out here. Even with the bus loads of Christian field trip kids, you get the sense that these kids have something to do and something that holds them in place.
I am not advocating organized religion or oppressive conservative politics or anything. I’m just saying I think people do benefit from belonging. Here in Evanston this morning we saw a parade of sorts. At first I thought it was an old car parade.
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It was a parade of “Red Devils” the mascot for the high school and the cars were from all the graduating classes and there were a lot of people of all ages in the parade.
At the rodeo when we were locking the bikes they were playing the National Anthem and I thought, “oh no… I guess we’ll have to put our hands over our hearts or who knows what might happen”.
Looking up from locking the bikes I was amazed by the hugeness of the symbolism. Handsome young men and women on heroic horses prancing around with large Flags complete with a lady in the announcer’s box singing the lyrics in a forceful yet elegant voice. It surprised me so much it brought tears to my eyes.
If only I could understand and believe in this “freedom” these conservative politicians talk about. Is this Β the right to kill Trevon Martin in Florida or what? What about the 500 times (or however many more than any other country) people we have in jail?? Is this freedom?
Well, it’s complicated I guess. Like this cafe where we have been hanging waiting for Kaline to pick us up.
The husband of the woman who runs the cafe is this guy
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His brochure is written like someone running for a position in junior high school student government. He is running for senator of the state of Wyoming. Quoted here is the back of the tri-folded folder.
“Pro life. Pro family. Pro liberty.
Pro 1st amendment , 2nd, 3rd, 9th and 10th and some of the rest.” And the front; “Conscience, constitution and common sense”
The sign in his wife’s cafe however says this
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I’ll take one of those too.

To go!

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July 5, Montpelier Idaho to Randolph Utah

We woke up to light rain and that was a huge relief. The mega heat wave at this altitude was really taking it out of me. If I never see another “Power Bar” that will be alright for me. On the road like this, you have to resort to them to keep going.
We had a wonderful first ten miles into Paris Idaho.
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We ate breakfast at the Paris Grill. The place was mostly empty and we talked with our waitress for quite a while. She explained life in small towns here to us. Basically, everyone is related to everyone. At her annual family reunion, there are literally hundreds of people. Her father was one of thirteen kids. There were 16 kids in her graduating class and most of them were related.
Perhaps this explains the large faded billboard in town which declares “Get the US out of the United Nations now! – John Birch Society”
Maybe we can blame this mentality on the fact that they haven’t discovered dating outside the family yet?
Most of the people here can trace their families back to the founders! The people came and they stayed. We see covered wagon remains everywhere proudly displayed in front yards. We are traveling on the Oregon/California Trail. I can’t begin to imagine how difficult it must have been for these people. They had to drill for water and had lots and lots of jugs (not plastic) of water all along the sides of the wagons. I’m talking now about the wagons being pulled by two oxen. Some families pushed their own carts and the folks that made it, did so by eating each other. 😦

Our waitress was just out of high school and shared with us the dress code here in public school. Shorts must end below the knee (like capris) skirts must reach the knee and shirts may reveal no more than four fingers below the collar bone. In the picture she took of me and Sa in her cafe, my shirt is zipped down too far. For this I would be sent home from school.

From Paris, we had our pleasantest day yet as the turf was flat and small towns with something open every ten miles.

We stopped at a small store which sold semi antiques and we got six mechanical pencils that work from the 1940s! They are so cool. The store was in the original jailhouse from 1888. (that’s the silly jailhouse picture).
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Riding was a peice of cake as by then the rain had stopped and it was blessedly overcast.
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The above picture is a tabernacle built in 1888 (completely put of place if you ask me) by the Mormons or the Church of Jesus and the Latter Day Saints (can’t tell between the two even though the difference has been explained to me.)
Either way, both groups eat “fry sauce” which is put on everything fried, which is everything. It is a mixture of mayonnaise and ketchup. Saves time I guess to have it pre-mixed.
The reason why there were so many active towns on the ride today is because we were riding beside the beautiful Bear Lake and it’s turquoise water.
Along the side of that lake we changed states.

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Thirty miles put us in Garden City where we stopped for a Mexican lunch ($10 covered both of us) as it was starting to rain more. We researched hotels as thunderstorms were predicted and we didn’t want to set up the tent in that. One thing money will buy is shelter from the storm, provided there is a hotel, which there wasn’t in Laketown the south end of the lake where we were going to camp. Researching in the Mexican place on the iPhone we found a family hotel thirty more miles away. When we first called them, they said it was fifty miles away. I was talking to one woman on the phone who was conferring with another woman and a man in the background who she was ignoring.
On Mapquest it said their hotel was thirty mules away so we went for it. By then it was pouring which I preferred to the sweltering heat and sun but Sa didn’t.
We found out that what the man was saying in the background was that there is a mountain between their town of Randolph and the mexican restaurant town, Garden City.
The climb was so hard that it was the only mountain where I considered walking my bike. Locals say they think the summit is 10,000 ( from the 6,500 at the lake). There was NO SIGN! At the summit so I can’t say if they are right but it was the most never ending climb we did. (Again I say, thank god in the rain).
It went up and up and up at a pretty intense slope. What you do in that situation as a bicycle rider is, you don’t look ahead because it is too overwhelming and discouraging. You just look at the ground and do one spin at a time over and over and over again.

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After a lot of this, around each turn I was hoping for the descent. That’s when the run away truck ramp on the other side appeared and I knew I was way far from the top. There was so much rain and so much sweat I couldn’t distinguish between the two.
I started to think of every person I had ever hated and why. I wondered about the possible catharsis or transformation that might occur from something like this self induced trial. I remembered the science experiment Sarita did in 3rd grade. We tried to lift a person who was thinking negative thoughts (photographed it) and then tried to lift the same person when they were thinking positive thoughts. When you are on a bike ten hours a day there’s a lot to manage in your mind.
Miracle upon miracles we finally made it to the top (and there was no sign).
For a while, unusually, we stayed on the top. It was like a plateau and we could see for miles and miles. Like the “Birds” song: miles and miles and miles and miles and miles.
We are not masochists. The thrill of the top is incredible. The experience of riding through wilderness without homes or electrical wires or anything but land and sky is beyond words which is why I haven’t tried to describe it yet.
The overwhelming beauty of an endless horizon in truly majestic land is so breathtakingly overwhelming it’s like one ceases to be themselves but just dissolves like a dot of nothingness in the great expanse of supreme nature. The essence of life is so glaringly obvious and simple next to all our complicated personality fabrications. One is just whole heartly grateful to be part of it all. So much of the day during this trip we are surrounded by nothing and that is the juice. Like a sign we saw “sell the sizzle, not the steak”: it’s about the experience of being IN all these out-of-the-way places; so much so that the summits are just things to get over.
I will say however that when we are in a hotel room and see an ad for the Olympics we completely identify. Not that we are great athletes or anything but that we are giving it our all, our 100% and that’s a wonderful feeling.
Anyway, we soon left the top and had a gradual descent into Randolph pictured here.

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The hotel turned out to be four cabins behind a drive through burger joint where we had grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner after our sixty mile day. Here is a picture of the cabins. Ours was the second one. The green plastic furniture was bolted to the deck.

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