After ascending a 2500 mountain from sea level, we coasted through Humboldt Redwood State Park. We saw the largest coastal redwood and got the road mostly to ourselves because it was Monday. As a result, we hiked to several prominent trees and took our time enjoying the redwoods. Seriously just lingered at 3 mph on the road moving through them and wafting their images in.

​Gnarly grades of gravel road, biking mountain-bike style downhill, having to push my bike up two mountain passes with 38% grades in sections were all worth it for the Lost Coast – absolutely majestic. The road was so shitty that it tore off two panniers and knocked my front tire loose. Even going downhill, I about used up my brakes and had to re-tighten them because the road was a mess of riddled potholes and gravel for most of it.

​Short day prepping for the Lost Coast tomorrow. We have our biggest climbs of the trip (2500 foot climbs) to get over the mountains and to the largest wilderness coast in the lower 48 states. Very remote, no towns, and miles of mountain climbs, redwoods, and untouched land.

Arcata, CA

​We awoke early for what turned out to be a 70 mile day. Crescent City was a route flat and cold with rain at 51 degrees. Immediately leaving the city we ascended a 1500 foot hill to enter the lofty mountains of Redwood National and State Parks. We pushed above the clouds and were treated to a summit awash in sun and blue skies. A harrowing descent into the dank fog brought shivers as we crafted our way across highways towards a 1000 climb at Prairie Creek Redwood State Park. I just couldn’t figure out how to thermoregulate. Keep my jacket on and sauna my saunters up climbs or jacket off for cool breeze on flesh that began to freeze on downward rides. However, approaching Elk Prairie Campground, we left the main traffic and had 6 miles of downhill all to ourselves through the heart of the original old growth stands of redwood. It was shocking to see the girth of trees in comparison to bikes.

A day of motion and reset today. After a gorgeous morning conquering hills with the last coastline in Oregon, we had to cut the day short due to a serious accident with Adam and Brianne. Fortunately, everyone is safe and recovering; unfortunately Adam and Brianne will need to hang back while Janna and I continue to California tomorrow. They are fucking awesome and, after promises to hopefully collide our routes in the next week, we said goodbye and headed to Harris Beach State Park for the night.  Below is what happened.

​Crushed out 66 miles today. Started in the gray 49 degree dawn and proceeded to blue skies/solid sun. The coast continues to be stunning.

Bandon Rest Day

Entered the Oregon Sand Dunes area and marveled at the appearance of it all.

I have resigned myself to being perpetually cold and wind swept in Oregon. It is truly beautiful but damn if those same winds that whisper up dunes and sweep up coastline don’t also serve up unending headwinds (dear god when we ride north/west into them), tailwinds (thank god when they propel us south), and side winds (shit!) when nearly getting toppled over. We read to only ride the coast south and it is true. A few northbound cyclists we have met have laid out their harsh words for the wind but they push us south at 18 mph. However, the moment we stop, I’m instantly freezing. Highs are 62 in the day and 40 at night, and that’s without the wind.

​This Oregon wind and cold are relentless.

Yaquina Head Outstanding Natural Area was truly outstanding. And ferociously bone-chillingly windy. It took me hours to feel warm again.

​Sand Lake was a giant set of dunes with Douglas firs growing out of them after we descended 800 feet down a mountain. Began in rain in the cloudy moss-soaked rainforest, smacked into arid dunes full of conifers. Fucking awesome.

​Awesome day. Truly got to mesh with a community of fellow cyclists all on the same trip south. Made friends we will bike with daily, had killer sea food for lunch, ate ice cream, and smashed killer hills to sit at the top of Meares State Park Lighthouse and enjoy the view.

I saw one of the most gorgeous sights on our trip so far today. Standing in the edge of a bluff, there stretched the ocean between two horseshoe cloves of land jutting outward with delicate grass breezing down to the bluff’s overhanging edges. The ocean was a blur drifting in a white beige shimmer that creamed with the horizon in one smooth stroke.

Entering Oregon brought a whole new kind of animal for the coast with sea stacks, crazy blue waves, and sand dunes that were as if in a desert but sketched to the ocean’s perimeter. The climbs were smooth, the hills large but largely forgiven given that sound tail wind we finally felt beneath our wheels; it seemed a myth often heard but never felt. Today, it was real.

​Crazy long day (73 miles) but we finished our first state (Washington) and entered a new one (Oregon). Morning found us battling a wretched westwardly wind coming up the Columbia River as we followed it to the coast. It was seriously a 30 mph headwind for 30 miles, with barely a 6 mph pace on flat highway. Super exhausted, we took a ferry over the Columbia River and entered Oregon. Now in Astoria, we opted for the comfort of a bed, washer/drier, and shower courtesy of AirBnB. Back on the coast from inland, I feel pumped to see the ocean again. But honestly, I miss the crazy views of AZ and even that summer heat rolling in.

53 miles to a stunning viewpoint of Mt St Helen’s at the visitor center. Along the way, we had great views of the glaciated peak of Mt Rainier as well. Seems unbelievable that we circumnavigated the entire volcano a few years ago on the Loowit Trail; novice and heavyset, it was a hell of a trip I didn’t want to relive. Now returned to the same place with fitter experience and health, I definitely want to return and reconsider it.

I saw this quote today in this ballin’ magazine at the camp we stayed at last night; the magazine and the greater organization that produces it is called “Washington Trail Association.” Huge props to WA for having such a sweet and extensive organization that makes encouraging outdoor recreation, lobbying for wilderness, and connecting people to the outdoors such a huge part of the area.

“Go places where other people don’t often get to, and be willing to suffer through rain, cold, early mornings, and late nights. And get out as often as possible.” – Troy Mason

That quote just gets me going.

​73.5 miles today to reach Elma. We left Illahee State Park early by climbing sharp grades up neighborhood streets. At the top of the highest hill, there were excellent views of both downtown Seattle and the Olympic Range with no clouds in sight. We slaughtered the first 40 miles and stopped to eat. The last 30ish led us away from civilization and deep into the backcountry of WA. We passed numerous tree farms, clear cuts, managed public land areas, and tons of land suggestive of lumber-use. This was the long push, with lots of sweat and grease involved. Finally entering the small town of Elma, a local man stopped to talk with us (a fellow cyclist). As we were mid-sentence with him, he began to tear up saying he had cancer and had found inspiration in what we were doing. He guided us to our stay for the night, Elma RV Park with a generous hosts who baked us cookies because we had called ahead about cycling in for the night. After warm showers, quick checks of tires and chains, we relaxed for the evening; I am spent from the day but man, I really feel amazed with Janna. The fact that I am married to someone willing to do this shit and live it up makes me incredibly awestruck. Just like that man earlier, I am inspired by her. Tomorrow to Centralia.

​Cycling cross country brings out the giving in others. First day, we biked 56 miles to Birch Bay and we met Todd who biked/camped with us. Together we fought off a heinous raccoon that deftly opened our panniers and tore through his tent. After beating the shit out of the raccoon (as in yelling at it/chasing it all night), we biked 45 miles to Bay View where torrential rain and cold tore my bones open, but was sobered with stunning views along the Chuckanut Pass. Day 3 was a short 36 miles to Coupeville where we met Pat Rodden – a venerable biking badass and copious giver, he opened his home to us for the night. This guy once solo biked from his place in Washington all the way to the arctic circle; currently he is prepping to ride solo the Great Divide Mtb Trail. His passion in biking is supplemented by finding inspiration from traveling cyclists he meets and have solid conversations. We slept in warmth and dryness at his place with a window directly over the bay and views of clouds clearing the top of Mount Baker. We spent the beginning of the day on a ferry crossing over to Port Townsend with clear blue skies and 65 miles of biking to Bremerton. After stopping in a laundromat the workers generously opened early for us (so we could finally get dry clothes again), we headed out on the Olympic Discovery Trail with views of snow-crusted Hurricane Ridge in Olympic National Park next to us. We crossed Baker Canal and got to see a seal swimming beneath the bridge – truly great. Tonight we sleep and prep for a 70 mile ride to Elma.

​Finally made it to our first Warm Showers host complete with cycling magazines on our bed on arrival. Three days of cold/rainy cycling done through some deft cliffside highway cycling routes. The first night involved a raccoon that, to my bewilderment, was actually able to unclick and undo our panniers to get our food. After beating the hell out of him (as in yelling throughout the night at the 45 pound giant pro of stealing shit), he receded into the night only to return to eat our neighbor’s tent and food! Done with that we careened over hilltops to Coupeville where we are sleeping in a bookstore loft above the tide of the ocean. Sweetness is sweet.