Perhaps we saved the best for last. The somewhat convoluted plan for the day was for Angus and Lisa to drive their car up Meadowlake Road from Carlton, (OR) (motto: “A nice little town.”) to avoid 10 or so miles and 1000+ feet of elevation gain. Garrett and I caught a ride to Carlton and started up the hill. (We’ll publish the elevation profile for this later so you can appreciate the glory of our accomplishment.)

We were caught by a local biker who rode up the hill with us; first talking to me, and then Garrett when my panting became too loud. He told us that this was one of his favorite Oregon rides and that we were lucky to have discovered it. (Yeah, us.)

He left us at the top of the hill to head back east, and wished us well for the rest of our ride. We continued west on the Upper Nestucca Rd. This is a beautiful, beautiful ride all the way to Beaver with almost no traffic even on the weekend.

We had cell coverage in Beaver. Dalis had left us an “I have a bad feeling about this” message about road conditions on Sandlake and Cape Lookout roads (road construction, drunken ATV drivers trailering their machines to Sandlake (which is exactly what it’s called.), big ass hills .) Garrett’s response to her offer of an “extraction”: “There is no f#%@ing way we’re going to ride across the country and not ride the last ten miles to the ocean.” And we did.

Finally caught up to Angus and Lisa at the top of the big descent down to the beach. It was a screamer; what a great finish.

Robin, Dalis, and Bev were waiting at the bluff overlooking the beach to capture the arrival on camera. They also had a cooler full of champagne, fruit, snacks, and beer. We celebrated on the beach for an hour or so and packed up to return to Robin and Patty’s while Angus and Lisa motored north.

That evening we caught up with Robin and Patty and some of their neighbors.

July 25
Drove back to Portland stopping along the way to collect a large box from REI to ship the trailers in. We took the bikes apart and got them packed up. Patty joined Brad, Kelly, and the Bikedust team for lunch. Patty, Dalis, and Garrett went off to explore the town (they surprised Rebecca Pearcy at Queen Bee); Bev, Kelly, and Brad went shopping for food for the evening’s celebration, and I went to the UPS store.

That evening, we ate a feast as Brad and Kelly hosted all of our Portland area hosts.

The end of the ride.

The last entry has been pecked out on the Pocket PC as we wing eastward. Reality has shown its ugly face. With better technology and connectivity now available, our plan is to get more pictures up and get them indexed to the journal entries. We also need to get Garrett’s drawings and scribbles scanned.

Of course, there is much more that needs written. We have learned a great deal about our country, about its people, and about ourselves. Not sure when we can share this, but we promise we will. Check back often. Write something if you want.

As we head down into Maryland, we can’t forget to offer a preliminary thank you to all of you who have helped us along the way. I will mention you all by name as we get this wrapped up, but let me finish today by thanking Dalis and Bev for sharing the last few weeks of the ride with us. We know that there were some pretty grim bits (but at least you had AC!), and we weren’t always such great company, but having other people to talk to and not having those trailers really made the last 1000 miles much more enjoyable.

Casual start featuring a light breakfast at Kelly and Brad’s. We rode downtown and caught a MAX train at Pioneer Square headed towards Hillsboro. Rode west and then south on a route we found on line. (This ride and its continuation to the coast was among the best of the entire ride. See here .) Bailed from route about 5 miles from R&P’s and rode gravel.

Ladies weren’t there yet and Patty was in Bend for the weekend. Robin started to throw food and beer at us while we waited. D & B showed up late afternoon and started to cook (two salads, chicken, veggie burgers,…). Angus and Lisa (friends from Seattle) arrived around 6 and we ate and made merry until 10 or so.

Beautiful ride from near Hood River to Portland much of it on the Historic Columbia Highway. (Dodging tourists along the way.) Felt very strong for our semi-Grand finale.

Found Brad and Kelly’s house and cleaned up after several long dirty days. Thai food in town.

Friday was spent with laundry, finding bike boxes, and shopping. In the evening, we went to Goldie and Doug Lowes house. Wow to the house, wow to the backyard. Super wow to the food. We could easily become the company that won’t leave.

The newly revised end game plan is to ride to Robin and Patty’s near Newberg tomorrow and meet Angus and Lisa there. Sunday, we will ride to the coast in the Three Capes area. Not Lewis and Clark, but prettier.

Rode from Maryhill to Hood River. Windy and Hilly, but scenery is starting to improve. Met the ladies at yet another internet café. They had found a campground in the woods about 10 miles from Hodo River away from the noise and wind of the gorge. Decided to stay for a day off and go hiking. Climbed Little Huckleberry and had a crystal clear day with great views of Adams, Rainier, Hood, and St. Helens.

Ouch, ouch, ouch. What a grim day this was. We crossed the River at Umatilla and rode west on US 14 through a very parched country. Ran into Christian who had left before us about 15 miles in enjoying some biscuits and gravy. Later, we saw a group of maybe 50 riders heading east with the wind at their backs. There was a large support van, so obviously this was one of them well supported rides you hear about. Stopped for Peanut Butter, Banana, and Honey sandwiches in North Roosevelt. We had been about 50 miles and had already drained our bags and bottles once, with a little top off along the way. The store owners advised us against filling with their hose (Not the first time we had been warned off tap water this trip. Never sure if this is an attempt to sell bottled water or a genuine commentary on the condition of what is available from most people’s water supplies. Someone should study this.)

The last 35 miles of the ride (Note: 85 miles after we had sworn off anymore “hero days” a few days ago.) were hilly, very windy, and brutally hot with handlebar temperatures near 120 and the real temperature over 100. We finally caught a break as we hit the top of the hill just above Mary Hill when we visited the visitor Center for Stonehenge where we bought a six pack of Pepsi and drained 3 of them. We had a cranking descent down to the river along Stonehenge drive (note to bicyclist: take this instead of the Adventure Cycling recommendation to continue along 14 and then 97. It is shorter, avoids a hill, and has almost no traffic. Plus, there is fruit to buy along the way.)

The ladies had selected a shaded RV site although it cost more money. Talked to a biker who was from SE Idaho who we had aso been paralleling for a few days. He also said that he was completely wiped by the last few days of hills, wind , and heat and was tempted to take a day off here to recover a bit.

We cleaned up with a cold jump in the river and a colder shower and went to bed at dusk. But not for long enough. Although we were promised it wouldn’t happen, we were hosed down around 3:30 in the morning by the sprinkler system. Garrett got the worst of it and everything in or near his tent was drenched. He shuffled off to try to sleep in the car’s shotgun seat. The rest of us made due with dampness.

In later edits I will let loose about this bizarre concept of camping that dominates our culture. Loading up your second home and driving to a synthetic environment (Note to America: grass doesn’t grow in Eastern Wasintgtom. Its a desert!), parking it, hooking up your power, sewer, and water, and sitting inside in airconditioing watching TV and staring at the beautiful lawn out the windows does not qualify as a natural experience!

We rolled into Walla Walla after a short ride from the campsite. We were to meet at a Cafe/Internet location at noon, but we were there by 11:30. Grabbed a bagel, and called the gals. They were at a farmer’s market down the street. We rode down to meet them. A bizarre set of events happened while we were in transit. Bev ran into a fraternity brother of Dick’s from Duke. They were visiting their son and daughter who shared a house in town and who are both connected with the winery business. They invited us to stay with them and proceeded to educate us on all Walla Walls had to offer in VERY good wines. Our one and only tour was to Dunham where we met Eric and Mike D who poured some great wines and spun some good tales. With kitchen facilities available that night, I cooked a salmon and shrimp feast. Garrett, Noah, and Rachel stayed up until all hours tasting.

There are combinations of hills, heat, and wind that come close to lethal. Today we pushed against that line. as we pulled into Dayton after 75 miles, we had already drained our camelbacks and water bottles twice, eaten all of the food we had, and were clearly not thinking clearly. Our clothes were crusted with the salt we had lost that day and we needed more fast. Gatorade to the rescue.

The bizarre event of the day was when we were hailed off our bikes on the highway near Pomeroy to visit a renovated grain mill that acted as a church and had a café. The latter had a menu with no prices: name your own price. We had some decent sandwiches and had a quick look around the mill and left a $20.

Our plan to garner sympathy from the ladies is working perfectly. They made us a great meal of chicken, baked beans, mashed spuds. And they bought us a growler of wheat beer at a Book and Beer store in Dayton.

Houston’s Odometer 2566
Hell’s Gate State Park, near Lewiston, Idaho

A long and hilly ride today across the Camas Prairie. Two big climbs, the first out of Kamiah that went on and on. The Lewis and Clark fun fact of the day: on their return trip west, they got back to Kamiah and said, “Hmmm, no more salmon.” They sent a sergeant and another man BACK to the Snake River (a cool 80 miles plus) to get some. You may recall that salmon made them sick on the way west as it was so oily compared to the stringy prong horn meat they had been eating. Now the “Captains” couldn’t wait to get more. The Sergeant was quoted as saying something like, ” The worst hills we ever saw a road made down.” (He probbaly had some choice words for the Captians who sent them back almost 100 miles to get more fish. “Oh Merriwether? Are we out of dill sauce?” ) The Lewis and Clark bicycle trail guide described the downhill from Winchester towards the Snake River valley as “It serves up one of the wildest and most unforgettable descents you’ll ever experience as the road dips and dives hundreds of feet into the river basin below.” Our report: Yes it does. They really need a chair lift here, although I don’t think the average fore arms could do more than 2 of the runs in a day.

After this fun downhill, a surprisingly painful climb over another ridge carried us to within 15 miles of the campsite. We finally rolled in around 4:30 beat meat.