Thursday, August 16, 2007

Safe, Sound and Done

It seems hard to believe: but I have finished my ride after 55 days and 4,088 miles. And I can admit I was worried at times--and feared I might have promised to do more than I could. I can also admit that I had one close call with a car when a gust of wind blew me too close to the road and one worrisome brush with the creatures of the woods.

My wife need no longer worry, because I have promised not to take another ride like this as long as she lives.

Then again...maybe I can take up whitewater rafting.

Gene Myers and I split up and went our separate ways August 11 and I hope he is soon finished and thrilled as I am today. I believe he will take great pride in having completed his route, just as any of us spandex-clad fanatics do.

As for me, I decided to cut back south into Oregon and save time. So I headed for Walla Walla, a pretty, prosperous college town. Then I pushed on to Umatilla across the wheat fields of eastern Washington. I saw a lot of local riders and enjoyed talking with them all. You don't find many depressed, negative people on bicycles. As always, I got good directions and was able to locate a bike shop where I could stock up on spare tubes.

And cursed be the gods--I racked up eight flats in a three-day period!

On August 12 I headed straight down the Columbia River Gorge, despite warnings that winds in the area come "howling" up the river. But it was the straightest route to the coast and I wanted to get home. By that point, 51 days into my ride, the only scenery I wanted to see was my wife.

Sure enough the winds blasted me all day and I averaged nine miles per hour and spent nine hours cursing into the gale. I camped free again on Army Corps of Engineers land near John Day Dam. Stars were out in full and the breeze continued till morning, lulling me to sleep.

The next day I was planning to swing south out of the Gorge and out of the wind--then heard the weather report on the radio. There would be, said the announcer, no real wind that day. So I kept going, down the Columbia, and was rewarded with spectacular scenery. Sometimes I rode along I-84. But there are large sections of Old Route 30 paralleling the modern road and 30, built around 1916, has great tunnels, challenging climbs, fantastic views, hairpin turns and drop-offs. Rowena Crest requires a climb of several miles but views are worth every drop of sweat. Crown Point, which I reached the next day, also requires a climb of many miles and provides a view to reward the effort in reaching the top--which is crowned with a wonderful visitor's rotunda. I talked to a variety of local riders and touted the joys of a trip coast-to-coast like a missionary. I also had an enjoyable conversation with Rabbi Deborah Schloss and her husband, who were kind in their comments about my ride and my desire to raise money for JDRF.

I should also mention the help provided by my brother Tim. The last two days he trailed me or got out ahead and took pictures and helped finalize details of my plane ride home. Last night we stayed in Forest Hills, Oregon, on Route 8. Then I got up early and rode the last sixty miles, through rich, rolling farm land and heavy forest, across the Coastal Range on Route 6, into Tillamook.

Suddenly, I was out of the last mountains and could smell the ocean--or--the cow manure. Tillamook is the heart of the Oregon cheese country. So there are a lot of cows. And a lot of cow waste. And a lot of cow odors.

Unfortunately, the town also sits a mile inland. So that meant riding three miles north to Bay City before I could dip my wheels in the Pacific.

And that, suddenly, was that. The ride was ended.

I said I could cross the United States and I did it.

One of my good friends asked before I started, "Why would you even WANT TO?" Others recommended I carry a gun. My wife feared I would be robbed. Almost everyone agreed going solo was a poor choice. If a car nailed me and I went flying into the woods--who would find me??

Well--how about bears? I can now say (since I am done and my wife need not worry) that when I was in Yellowstone I camped in unauthorized territory. I began looking for lodgings around 2 p.m. but camp sites and hotel rooms were booked. It was raining and cold. So I flaunted rules and pitched my tent a 100 yards from the road in a thick grove of pines. I knew I might be in bear country. So I bagged my food and toiletries and hung them in a tree. Then I lay me down to sleep. Round 10 p.m. some small creature of the woods skittered past my tent and startled me awake. Like a pioneer I soon fell back to sleep.

About midnight, however, a LARGE creature could be heard snuffing outside my front door.

I grabbed my pepper spray (which I carried to ward off human pests) and clicked the red button to "fire." I also gripped my bicycle helmet like a frying pan and prepared to wack at any claws that came ripping through my tent. I waved my flashlight about, inside the canvas, but thought better about opening the flap and antagonizing my visitor. Daniel Boone would have handled it differently, perhaps.

But I'm a sissy.

The beast soon wandered away and after overcoming my nerves I eventually went back to sleep. The next morning I found "scat" three feet from my tent. I have described this animal poop to several knowledgeable individuals and have consulted books about animals, their habits, footprints and bowel movements. Elk and deer leave pellets when they answer nature's call. And what I saw certainly wasn't pellets. Then again, elk don't always leave pellets in the summer. So it could have been an elk. Or it could have been a bear.

If it was a bear I'm glad he was a peace-loving, or even a vegan bear. And if I had looked out and seen a bear three feet from my tent I KNOW who would have been defecating in the woods!
So the bad drivers in big SUV's didn't get me.

And God's woodland creatures didn't get me, either.

Now I am happy to fly home to my family. I feel lucky and give thanks to Anne for allowing me to have my adventure and for being my steady companion and friend and fantastic mother all these years.

I also thank the many contributors to JDRF. It has meant a great deal to our family to have such support.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

Congratulations! Loveland Middle School is super proud of you and we look forward to hearing lots of tales about your trip this year. Enjoy your last few days of vacation and we'll see you on the 27th!

Unknown said...

John:
I am so delighted for you, for your successful completion of a stunning accomplishment. I took great pride in shadowing you the final two days - and will get my 60 or so photos off to you in a few days (the only photos we missed were the "hairy barber", and his "paint-trussed buddy"). I trust you got home in good shape, and, so did the Cannondale!? Bask in your well-deserved glory, brother!
Tim V.