Monday, July 8-Cycling!!!

On the train from Seattle to Portland, I met Greg, who films professional snowboarding videos. He lives in Portland--really cool dude. When I got off the train in Portland, I blitzed over to catch my other bus to get back to Seaside so I could ride the rest of the way down the coast. On that bus, I met another cyclist who is an older guy from London. He was planning on riding all the way to Virginia.

I got off the bus at Seaside along with another guy from London (not the same guy riding to virginia) who was also planning to stay at the hostel. His name was Luke, and he was taking a year-and-a-half off of work in order to do a world tour. He said he's been to over 50 countries, and he's still got another year of traveling to go.

Once Luke and I got settled in at the hostel, he sent me on my bike to the nearest grocery store to pick up a 6-pack of "something local". When I got back, we paid the hostel $5 to have some home-made Vietnamese food cooked by the owner of the hostel's sister. Luke offered me a few beers with the meal, and when we were hanging out in the dining room, Nicholas came in to join. Luke and Nicholas got into an argument about the European time-zones, so Nick got pissed off once again and that was probably the last time I'll ever see him.

Luke and I had a great night without Nicholas's company. He gave me his information and told me that if I ever went to Europe, he could set up all sorts of places to stay. Really cool, really smart, all-around awesome guy. At around midnight, some Indian people from Seattle joined Luke and I in our dorm room. We shot the shit for an hour, I showered, and we all hit the sack.

The next morning (July 6th), I didn't get the early start I wanted. I was on the road by 9:30, and was dead set on hitting the 100 mile mark by the end of the day. Less than one mile into the ride, my left foot started to knock off the panier with my heel. The panier would get caught in my back spokes, bringing me to a screeching hault. Then I noticed the nuts that were holding my rack to the frame were loose, and that the rack was bent and crooked. I ended up tying down the left panier to the rack with some nylon cord, I tightened the nuts, and seing as how the crooked rack didn't seem to cause any problems, I let it be.

I rode all of 110 miles that day, pulling into Beverly Beach exactly 12 hours after leaving the hostel and a half an hour before the sun dropped into the sea. It was hell riding with all of the weight from the resupply package I'd recieved at the Seaside Hostel, so I tried to eat as much of the heavy/bulky stuff as I could. It was a beautiful ride, but I was more than happy to roll into Lincoln City, the 90 mile mark.

When I got to Beverly Beach just before sunset, I met six other cyclists who were also riding south down the coast. The first two faces I saw were Kristen Ragland and Christian Sojoerein, who were trying to build a fire. Kristen had set up the big logs in an awkward tee-pee shape, and with the help of Christian, she was finally able to get it started.


Kristen was travelling down the coast with her friend Katie, and they are both from Alabama. Katie teaches Freshman in high school about computers and Kristen does outdoor programs with disadvantaged adults out in Utah. These girls are hilarious. When I rolled up, Katie was on the edge of the camp-site trying to find that perfect spot to get cell-phone reception so she could talk to her brand new Mr. Charming back in Alabama--and as I already mentioned, Kristen was failing to light a pile of dry wood on fire.

I soon learned that Christian was born and raised in Sweden and lived there until he was twelve, when his family decided to move to Madrid, Spain, where he currently lives.

I also met Matt, a guy from San Fransisco who started in Astoria and is cycling back home. He's a bit older than the rest of the people, but he is great company, and knows alot about cycling. I also met Eric and Susan, two Portlandites who are riding down to San Diego and then flying out to Tuscon, Arizona for a Kung-Fu conference.

There was a Canadian couple who happened to be riding along the same route. Shannon and Colleen-- by far the most energetic and fun-loving people I think I've ever met.

Some of the people mentioned above happened to be camping at the same cites a day or two prior to my meeting them. Apparently, they had began to decide to stick together and last night, they invited me to ride with them. It might not be a bad idea, but it sounds like they only want to do a 60 mile-a-day average, as where if I ever want to make it down to San Diego, I'll need to average at least 100 per day. But today knocked me out. I don't know if it is going to be possible for me to make it down to San Diego by the 20th to meet my family.