Day 8
Liam had foretold: "you're gonna get some rain in Oregon." Today the prophesy was fulfilled. Heavy rain all night. I had read it in the forecast so we expected it. Luckily, it wasn't actively coming down when we woke up. Shifting, uneasy and low clouds. I knew it would be back.
We packed and I talked with a woman having a cigarette in the park by an outlet I had found for to charge my phone. She tells me "Downie's is the best place to eat in town. All home made. Even the bread. And the doughnuts, oh boy. The cinnamon rolls, as big as your head! And you wonder why we're all chunky..." I had made the signals that I politely wished to exit the conversation, but she just kept talking as I walked away...
We got back on the 101 and it was 5 miles to Tillamook. Just before the bridge into town, the skies began to open. We suited up and rode into town.
It came down heavily all through town and afterwards for a ways. An exciting point was the Tillamook creamery, whose cheese we have been enjoying most of the trip.
We took a side road after Tillamook to go around Cape Meares. Nice farm country out there. Cows and corn. A big "AIR MUSEUM" sign caught our eyes.
Weaving through farms and some logged parcels, we came across another cyclist. He was older and on a mountain bike. We chatted at we rode. A local guy, likes to come out on rainy days. As we talked the road deteriorated into gravel and then went steeply uphill. "It gets back to paved on top," said the fella as he totally smoked us up the hill.
Later on we saw a sign that Lluc recognized: 'Jacobsen Salt Co.' "Hey they make good salt." We took a pitstop and checked it out. Little operation with the factory and shop right there.
Nice folks, told us all about it and we tried some. Good n salty. Nice big flakes. They pull the water right out of the bay and boil it down into a brine, and then evaporate it into crystals and scoop it out. Pretty simple, probably rather energy intensive, but interesting to see. I wondered how it compared in a life cycle analyis to salt mined from the ground.
Straight away, we started climbing up Cape Lookout. As we went, the fog began to roll in heavily and we were in the thick of it.
It was a steep climb, but quiet. The fog deadened the noise of the surf. It took us about a half hour of straight climbing, bouncing on the granny gears. At the top we got the wind from the other side and it was like a gale. We dove down the other side which was wildly fun and a tad scary. Very slick road and the pellets of rain were coming into our faces and eyes so much that it felt like hail and we had to squint to see.
We cruised through Sandlake, which looked like a rest stop and a grange hall only, but the terrain got way sandier and opened up into grassy dunes between the pines. Very cool. Pacific city had a nice big rock off the beach and sand all over the road downtown. In Oretown a billy goat baaa'd at us from all the way across the highway. We were almost to Neskowin, and Lluc had to add "We a-goin' to Nes-kowin-!" It was still raining decently. Everything was wet, but we were warm with working so hard. Like wearing a wetsuit.
Lluc's ma had friends in Lincoln City, so we were determined to make it. A real bed and warm shower were enough to keep us going through all the rain. We were nearing the end of the day and had been on the bikes 7 hours already, but there was still one big hill in our way. We took a side road off 101-- the old 101. It climbed steadily, wilding around Slab creek with mossy rocks and dripping leaves. As we climbed the fog thickened again until we were riding in a mystic forrest or ferns and tall drooping pines. Not a soul. We rode side by side and talked of justice and protests and fear, love and hate. Something about the pedaling motion really puts the brain in gear. It was a mellow descent, with some sweeping turns almost full teardrop shapes. Glorious. Then, we met these lovely ladds at the bottom and stopped for a chat:
It was 5 more miles to Lincoln city when we both realized how hungry and tired we were. Lluc rides up beside me and handed me a hunk of chocolate from his fanny pack. Never tasted such a lucious thing. Good heavens.
Well, we made it and pulled right into the garage of Romy and Naomi, the two loveliest ladies in Lincoln City, who entertained us all evening with stories from thier lives in New York and in the Netherlands and in between. A little fishermans shack done over in the 70's with very little furniture. I liked it. I liked the roof best-- and the walls-- the whole structure, really. Inside. I love learning to appreciate simple things again and come to know them more deeply in doing so. This is why we have houses. This one feels like a home. Happy to have it be ours for tonight.
We packed and I talked with a woman having a cigarette in the park by an outlet I had found for to charge my phone. She tells me "Downie's is the best place to eat in town. All home made. Even the bread. And the doughnuts, oh boy. The cinnamon rolls, as big as your head! And you wonder why we're all chunky..." I had made the signals that I politely wished to exit the conversation, but she just kept talking as I walked away...
We got back on the 101 and it was 5 miles to Tillamook. Just before the bridge into town, the skies began to open. We suited up and rode into town.
It came down heavily all through town and afterwards for a ways. An exciting point was the Tillamook creamery, whose cheese we have been enjoying most of the trip.
We took a side road after Tillamook to go around Cape Meares. Nice farm country out there. Cows and corn. A big "AIR MUSEUM" sign caught our eyes.
Weaving through farms and some logged parcels, we came across another cyclist. He was older and on a mountain bike. We chatted at we rode. A local guy, likes to come out on rainy days. As we talked the road deteriorated into gravel and then went steeply uphill. "It gets back to paved on top," said the fella as he totally smoked us up the hill.
Later on we saw a sign that Lluc recognized: 'Jacobsen Salt Co.' "Hey they make good salt." We took a pitstop and checked it out. Little operation with the factory and shop right there.
Nice folks, told us all about it and we tried some. Good n salty. Nice big flakes. They pull the water right out of the bay and boil it down into a brine, and then evaporate it into crystals and scoop it out. Pretty simple, probably rather energy intensive, but interesting to see. I wondered how it compared in a life cycle analyis to salt mined from the ground.
Straight away, we started climbing up Cape Lookout. As we went, the fog began to roll in heavily and we were in the thick of it.
It was a steep climb, but quiet. The fog deadened the noise of the surf. It took us about a half hour of straight climbing, bouncing on the granny gears. At the top we got the wind from the other side and it was like a gale. We dove down the other side which was wildly fun and a tad scary. Very slick road and the pellets of rain were coming into our faces and eyes so much that it felt like hail and we had to squint to see.
We cruised through Sandlake, which looked like a rest stop and a grange hall only, but the terrain got way sandier and opened up into grassy dunes between the pines. Very cool. Pacific city had a nice big rock off the beach and sand all over the road downtown. In Oretown a billy goat baaa'd at us from all the way across the highway. We were almost to Neskowin, and Lluc had to add "We a-goin' to Nes-kowin-!" It was still raining decently. Everything was wet, but we were warm with working so hard. Like wearing a wetsuit.
Lluc's ma had friends in Lincoln City, so we were determined to make it. A real bed and warm shower were enough to keep us going through all the rain. We were nearing the end of the day and had been on the bikes 7 hours already, but there was still one big hill in our way. We took a side road off 101-- the old 101. It climbed steadily, wilding around Slab creek with mossy rocks and dripping leaves. As we climbed the fog thickened again until we were riding in a mystic forrest or ferns and tall drooping pines. Not a soul. We rode side by side and talked of justice and protests and fear, love and hate. Something about the pedaling motion really puts the brain in gear. It was a mellow descent, with some sweeping turns almost full teardrop shapes. Glorious. Then, we met these lovely ladds at the bottom and stopped for a chat:
It was 5 more miles to Lincoln city when we both realized how hungry and tired we were. Lluc rides up beside me and handed me a hunk of chocolate from his fanny pack. Never tasted such a lucious thing. Good heavens.
Well, we made it and pulled right into the garage of Romy and Naomi, the two loveliest ladies in Lincoln City, who entertained us all evening with stories from thier lives in New York and in the Netherlands and in between. A little fishermans shack done over in the 70's with very little furniture. I liked it. I liked the roof best-- and the walls-- the whole structure, really. Inside. I love learning to appreciate simple things again and come to know them more deeply in doing so. This is why we have houses. This one feels like a home. Happy to have it be ours for tonight.
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