Dave rides his bike to school

 Above: 12 miles to Portland.  Hmm, isn’t that thingy supposed to be ON my bike? 

 

 

Above: The Little Nestucca River. 

 

Above: My last glimpse of the Pacific Ocean for a long time…  This is the rock off the coast of Pacific City, OR. 

 

Friday, June 9th, 10am
Location: Portland, OR
Coordinates:
45.4434 N
122.7383 W
Today’s mileage: about 87 miles
Tomorrow’s destination: HERE!  I’m not going anywhere until Monday!

Yesterday was the kind of day that I’ll tell my grandkids about.  As I’ve mentioned, I didn’t know how I was going to get from the coast to Portland.  All I knew is that I needed to get to Portland or somewhere near Portland before Friday evening, when Tori is scheduled to arrive at the airport. 

From my biking maps, it looked like the most direct way to get to Portland from the coast is to take Highway 6 from Tillamook.  However, Tori poked around the Internet and found this passage about Highway 6 on Wikipedia, “The stretch through the coast range is well-known for its scenic beauty (as well as frequent accidents; the highway is a highly-travelled route despite numerous twists and turns and steep grades).”  Based on that description, and from Google Maps (double true!), I decided that I needed to find an alternate route.  Tori dug around and found a route starting from Pacific City.  Approximate distance to Portland: 90 miles.

At about noon, I said goodbye to Belinda.  She’s continuing north to Whistler, Canada, so we parted ways in Pacific City.  I had a lot of fun riding with Belinda over the past few days, and I wish her the best of luck and good weather as she rides on.  Thanks for everything!   

I departed Pacific City, OR, at about 1pm.  The first 20 miles were perfect!  The weather was nice, the road conditions were good, and the scenery was unbeatable.  I was riding upstream alongside the Little Nestucca River, as it got smaller and smaller until it was just a little creek.  Each new road that I merged onto grew bigger and busier on the way to Portland. 

I had a tailwind, and the roads were pretty flat, so I was making terrific time.  I was cruising along at probably 17 mph, which is like Mach 3 when I’m on a fully-loaded touring bike.  Pretty soon, I starting thinking to myself that maybe, just maybe, I could make it all the way to Portland in one day.  Granted, at about 3pm, I had about 60 miles to go, but I figured there was still a chance…

Suddenly, a song began playing in my mind.  “NO! …. SLEEP! …. ‘TILL PORTLAND!  PORTLAND!!   NO! …. SLEEP! …. ‘TILL PORTLAND!  PORTLAND!!”  Like a madman, I started chanting out loud.

At about 4:30pm, I stopped at a Subway in McMinnville.  I asked the guy in front of me if the road would be safe for a bicycle heading to Portland.  He said, “Oh yeah, no problem!  You’ll be there in about an hour.” 

I thought to myself, “An hour?!  Wow, I must really be FLYING!  I must be right outside of Portland.”  Keep in mind that I didn’t have a map; I just had the Google directions that Tori had given me over the phone.  I got back on the road (Highway 99W, at that point).  Here’s what the next road sign said: “Portland 38 miles”.  38 FREAKIN’ MILES?  THAT GUY THINKS I’M GOING TO RIDE 38 MILES IN “ABOUT AN HOUR”?  DOES HE THINK I’VE GOT A JET PACK HIDDEN SOMEWHERE ON MY BIKE?

Argh!  Well, when I finally got over that shock, I sucked it up and pressed on.  About two hours later, I was closing in on Portland.  The mile markers showed about 12 miles to go.  I was beginning to get pretty fatigued, but I downed some candy and some Mountain Dew, and I kept on. 

In Tigard (right outside Portland), I began ascending a small hill.  Suddenly, my left pedal felt loose.  I looked down, thinking that maybe my shoe had come loose from the pedal.  Instead, when I made one more downstroke, the entire left crank (the thing that holds the pedal to the bike) fell off.  AHH!  WHAT THE F? 

I stopped, looked down, and sure enough, my left crank was now on the road behind my bike.  Doh!  Getting to Portland with one pedal was really going to be tricky. 

I managed to coast down to a Safeway, where an ambulance was standing by in the parking lot.  I asked the driver if he knew of a motel close by.  He must have been a cyclist himself, because he said, “Well, that’s an REI bike, right?  You know, there’s an REI about 3 miles from here.”  What are the chances of that!?

I went inside the Safeway and persuaded one of the cashiers to let me put my trailer in the employee room.  Next, the ambulance driver sketched a map for me to get to REI.  In the most bizarre twist to my trip so far, I then rode WITH ONE LEG (my right) for about 3 miles to the REI.  I was in and out of REI in about 5 minutes.  I jumped back on my bike, now with TWO pedals, and rode back to the Safeway. 

At this point, getting to Portland had become a mission for me.  I was only about 12 miles away, I had a wide, well-marked bike lane, and I had lighted streets, so I felt pretty good about pressing on, despite the fact that it was almost 9pm.

To my great surprise and relief, after about 5 miles (and roughly 20 minutes later), I approached a “WELCOME TO PORTLAND” sign.  I was done!  I made it!  I coasted to the first motel I saw and checked in.  At almost 90 miles, it had been, by far, the longest day of the trip.  I gorged myself at the vending machine and then hit the sack, with a big fat smile on my face.

 

Tags: Travel

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