Days 67, 68, 69, and 70. 85 miles.

Alli decided to ride with me to the coast. We took Route 26 out to Cannon Beach, stopping only for snacks and fresh blackberries.

The road was terrible, beginning with four fast lanes on each side, and ending with a crappy shoulder along a fast and narrow road. Note to anyone traveling to the Oregon coast from Portland: 26 is no fun.

However, the beach was much fun. We made a campfire and toasted s'mores late into the night, until the rain washed us away. We didn't get much sleep that night due to the rain, but we were able to make up for it the following day by taking a long nap on the beach in the sun. Later we went hiking in the cliffs along the shore, and found some amazing views of the coastline.

Again we made a campfire and slept on the beach, which became quite cold in the middle of the night, but fortunately it didn't rain.

The next morning, a man asked us if we knew of a place to get coffee nearby. We said sorry, we just rolled in on our bikes and don't know the area.

"Well, if I find coffee, would you like me to bring you some?"
"Absolutely!" we said.

He came back ten minutes later and offered to buy us breakfast around the corner.

Frank had taken a motorcycle trip for 18 months when he was in his early 20's, but was inspired by those who were tough enough to travel long distances without a motor pushing them along. Several years ago, he had created a bike product that could transform a regular bicycle into a tandem. Unfortunately, his target market was more inclined to just purchase tandem bicycles rather than his conversion piece, and the product flopped. But he was still very interested in cycling, and he was generous to provide me and Alli with some breakfast.

Alli needed to get back to Portland for work, and I decided that I was kinda sick of biking, so we both took the bus back to the city.

The next day, I visited the bike shop and asked them to ship the bike back to Maine. Though I had thought pretty hard about riding back east through Canada, I decided that I would save it for another time...at this point I am ready to chill out and read books in hammocks until the fall semester begins. Plus, my parents maintain an awesome organic garden back in central Maine, and I would be bumming if I were to miss out on fresh veggies and berries again this summer. I really had to ask myself...another month of PB&J, or tons of fresh veggies and homemade meals? Hmmm....

But I don't think I am finished with "bike tripping". Sleeping out under the stars and living off of my bike has truly been an incredible experience. I've met a lot of great people on this journey, seen a lot of beautiful landscape, and watched the muscles in my legs transform into the beasts that they now are. Piper agrees that this will not be his last long distance bike trip, only the first in a series that may well become a lifestyle. At this point, I have complete confidence that I can get anywhere I need to go by pedalling there. This summer, I have taken my devotion to bike commuting to a whole new level. In the upcoming years, I will continue to live car-free and bike-centric.

Hey, thanks to all of those who have supported me on this journey. I really, REALLY appreciate everything that people have done to help us along the way. And thanks to everyone who supports their local/state bike organizations—it makes a HUGE difference in making the roads safer and more accessible for cyclists.

If anyone wants to get in touch with Adam Piper, his email address is manic676 [at] hotmail.com.

And of course, anyone reading this blog should feel free to contact me for any reason: trinachi [at] gmail [dot] com

—Peace—

Days 64, 65, and 66. 0 miles.

Aaah. Rest days in Portland. Piper went to the bike shop in the morning of Day 64 to replace his chain, cassette, and head set...all of which were horribly worn out. I took him into downtown Portland and showed him Powell's, which is probably the most famous (and the most awesome) used book store in the United States. We grabbed some slices at Rocco's Pizza and sat around in Pioneer Square, watching games of hacky sack and street performers. We rode the MAX line up to North Portland to visit my buddy Chris, then went back to Alli's house in the evening, where many young people were listening to music and tossing frisbees around in the dimly lit backyard.

The next morning, Piper and I said our goodbyes. He began riding south to visit his brother in Eureka, California. I stuck around in Portland.

That night, I went to the last Thursday art walk on Alberta Street. The street was alive with raw street art and the energy of urban youth. Fire dancers moved to the pulsating drone of drums and didgeridoos. A clown rode up and down the street on his tall bike, blasting flames and hooting wherever he went. Clown girls with black pom-poms danced in a mud pit to the bizarre noises of an electric guitar hooked up with sound effects and an amplifier. Artists lined the sidewalks with prints and canvasses. Tall bike jousting competitions took place in backyards, while music and dancing enveloped the streets. Wow, I miss Portland, I thought. It is a wild, crusty city, like none other.

Day 63. 71 miles.

We woke up in Hood River, OR--the windsurfing capital of North America. Might seem obvious, but it was very windy. We had a hard time going any faster than 6mph for the first couple of hours. After awhile, the wind died down a bit and we made one big push into Portland. It was exciting for me to recognize street names and see the light rail line that I used to know so well. It was fun to see bike lanes again, and know that I would soon be able to take a shower.

We stopped by a park by the Wilamette River and basked in the glory of finally arriving at our destination. We rode our bikes to my friend Alli's house, where four other college-aged housemates arrived home from work one by one. We hung out, we feasted, and we enjoyed being off of our bikes for a short while.

Day 62. 76 miles.

We woke up early and chatted with a hair dresser from Los Angeles who drove a shiny green Jaguar. He happened to be strolling through town, and offered us a ride to Portland. Thanks for the offer, we said, but we've made it this far and we gotta finish it on our bikes.

We got coffee and rode for 50 miles, with two small interruptions...one flat (me), and one broken spoke (Piper).

We went swimming during the hot part of the day and left around sunset in an effort to avoid heat stroke.

Day 61. 68 miles.

We woke up early and rode for 40 miles until we found a nice rest stop. We slept for a few hours, and I finished patching up the many thorn punctures on my tube from the day before. It was so hot outside that I had to put my bike gloves back on in order to push the water fountain bar without searing the skin on my hand. After 4pm, we decided to get back on the road again to crank out some more miles, despite the fact that it was still extremely hot outside.

Heat channeled through the metal frame of my bike, through my cranks, and into my pedals. The clips on my shoes conducted the heat from my pedals, and burned little patches on the soles of my feet. It was so hot that I began pulling up on all of my pedal strokes so I could avoid putting pressure on the sole of my foot, where the pedal connected with my shoe. For awhile, I was concerned that the plastic sole of my shoe might melt.

We drank water nonstop, and tried to deal with the heat. After 15 miles, I noticed my thoughts were beginning to get a bit soggy. My balance wasn't quite as good as it should have been. Piper started getting chills.

We saw a construction zone on the side of the road and hid in the shade behind an excavator while we tried to recover. We kept drinking water, but Piper felt ill. Later we found out that it had been another 114 degree day.

We left just before sunset. A hot head wind blew in our faces, killing the few downhills we might have enjoyed.

We pulled into the town of Arlington and ate dinner in an air conditioned diner. We were too exhausted to continue. We found a park and lay down to go to sleep, only to be awakened by the sprinkler system several hours later. We moved to a dry spot, only to be awakened by more sprinklers awhile later. Yet again, we moved to another dry spot, and yet again, the sprinklers came on and forced us to move. On top of that, Piper was experiencing some, er, intestinal difficulties that interrupted what little sleep he might have gotten in that booby-trap sprinkler field. In the following days, he would refer to that evening as the "water fountain poop festival."

Day 60. 87 miles.

We arrived in Walla Walla, Washington after 45 miles. I had a flat, so I sat on the side of the road with my patch kit. Soon I realized that my tire was chock full of little thorns, which I had to remove with tweezers. After patching 5 punctures in a row, I gave up and threw in my spare tube. We hid in the public library for hours while the heat raged outside. Around 5:30pm, we decided to venture out again, knowing that the hottest part of the day was gone. But despite the late hour, the hot wind burned our eyeballs, and we adjusted our sunglasses to hug our faces as best we could. Later, we found out that the temperature had reached 114 degrees in eastern Washington on that day. We climbed a large hill and went down again, where we met the Colombia River. I found the perfect climbing tree and swung around in the branches as the stars began to appear. We slept alongside the river, where spiders the size of fifty-cent pieces hung out in the tall grasses that surrounded us on all sides. I woke up with spider webs coating my skin, and wrapped my tarp around myself to prevent the appearance of further strands.

Today we reached my goal of 3,500 miles.

Day 59. 78 miles.

Today we faced triple-digit heat. We took the hot part of the day off to swim in the lake, then began biking again around 6pm. We pedalled into the evening to gain some more miles, knowing that we would not be able to bike in the middle of the day tomorrow, either.

Day 58. 78 miles.

Today we felt a bit better and the miles added up with less effort. We took a good chunk of mid-day to swim in the Clearwater river. We stopped in a park at the end of the day, where we stumbled upon a Democratic Convention and were offered cold sodas and conversation.

Day 57. 62 miles.

Some locals told us where the real hot springs are, so we decided to give it another shot. We hiked into the woods and found the springs, no problem. We lazed around in the streaming showers and the warm pools for an hour or so, then hit the road. For the rest of the day, we were unusually tired and sluggish. Though we were riding a slight downhill along the river for the entire day, we both felt as though we were working too hard for our miles. The terrain was beautiful, but the camera battery was dead...sorry folks.

We ate at a small diner in the evening, where we met Bill, a touring cyclist from Florida who was following the TransAm route from Astoria, OR, and heading east.

Day 56. 75 miles.

So I decided to make some adjustments to my riding set up. With the intention of riding back east after making it to the west coast, I realized that I would need to seriously pare down on weight if I wanted the slightest chance at riding 3,000 miles in under a month. I figured out a way to rig a rear rack to my bike (which posed a bit of a challenge due to a lack of eyelets), and grabbed a couple of mini panniers to hold my rain jacket, a U-lock, my notebook, a small tarp in case it rains, and a bit of food. I sent home everything else--the trailer, the tent, the stove, extra socks and underwear, extra top layers--everything. By the time I had finished, I had a 29-pound box ready to ship. My remaining gear (not counting water) weighed about 10 or 15 pounds, and fluctuated tremendously based upon food supply. I was psyched to do the minimalist thing. After hauling all that weight for a couple thousand miles, I felt like I was pedalling on a cloud. Piper was jealous.

We climbed up to the top of Lolo pass on the border of Idaho and Montana, with an elevation of about 5,500 feet. We rode a sweet downhill and stopped at Jerry Johnson hot springs, where we got lost hiking through the woods and never actually found the springs. Frustrated and exhausted from mistakenly hiking up another mountain and then falling into the cold river somewhat by accident, we went to sleep laughing at ourselves for fumbling so awkwardly through the woods. We also laughed at the fact that we were trying to sleep on piles of rocks. But at a certain level of exhaustion, even rock piles will not prevent you from closing your eyes and drooling all over your sleeping bag.

Day 55. 32 miles.

On the last little stretch into Missoula, Piper had two flats within 20 minutes. I hid behind a cement wall while he cursed the wire bits that have accounted for 95 percent of our flats on the trip. Once in town, we began asking around for a bike shop, but were instead directed to the Adventure Cycling office. We walked inside and were delighted by what we encountered there--an air conditioned hang out room with internet access, cold water, and complimentary ice cream, all to welcome touring cyclists and give us a cozy break from the road. We spent a good chunk of time hanging out with other cyclists and enjoying the air conditioning. Though we admitted that we hadn't been using the Adventure Cycling maps (AAA maps have been our primary tool), we were impressed by everything the organization is doing to help cyclists of all different backgrounds get on their bikes for an awesome journey. From my perspective (which Piper also shares), the more people riding bikes, the better. Bikes are good for the mental and physical health of those who ride them. Bikes are good for decreasing traffic congestion and pollution on the road, which increases the livability of cities. The more political and organizational support we have for cyclists, the more we will see people on the road riding bikes, the more we can see improvements in things like air quality and the general public health. Every small step contributes to the larger task of figuring out how to create an inclusive transportation system--one where individuals can choose to walk, take public transit, or ride their bikes without continually struggling to find their way in an increasingly auto-dependent transportation structure. After spending time in the Adventure Cycling headquarters and marvelling at their dedication to making long-distance bicycle travel more accessible, I have decided that I would like to become a member of their organization once I return home. What a cool space.

Later that day, we went to visit my old room mate from my first semester at Lewis and Clark College in Portland, OR. Laina was spending the summer working with honey bees in Missoula, and riding her bike around the city. We made a big pasta meal and went to bed early.