#pacificcoastcycle

Total Distance Cycled:   2,472km (1,536miles) Total Distance Climbed: 24,631m (80,810ft - 2.8 Everests)

Entering our second month on the road, traveling from the Oregon-Californian border to San Francisco we made plenty of new cycling friends, explored majestic Redwoods, and took on the most challenging terrain we would face as we picked up the famous Pacific Coast Highway. Metaphorical and literal highs and lows lay ahead as we pushed ourselves out of the comfort zone. By the time we made it to San Francisco we were thoroughly looking forward to a week off, well in need of an extended break. 

As always we are indebted to the warmshowers community. Many thanks to Margit and James in Forest Knolls for hosting us (and again to David and Hope where we left of last time).

Sunday October 29th 2017 Tour Day 30 Cycle Day 21: Crescent City to Elk Prairie

We rolled out of David and Hope’s as a trio for the first time since we rode with Alejandro back in Washington. David had decided he needed a little stretch and led us the 10km into town to one of his favourite breakfast spots.

Facial hair is tres in.

The Good Harvest Café did not disappoint! Monte Cristo sandwich, Santa Fe scramble, and a side of maple syrup pancakes...

Bellies pacified, thoughts turned towards the Mexican F1 Grand Prix and the possibility of Lewis Hamilton wrapping up the Driver’s Championship with two races to spare. Given that it was 10am and America’s apathy towards races with more than four left turns we weren't particularly hopeful, but set off in search of a sports bar none the less.

After a bit of searching we finally found the Harbor View Grotto, and what a find it turned out to be! The very welcoming locals Randy, Garry, Mike, Bill, and George settled us in, found the F1 and gave us our own TV to watch it on! An amiable bunch we enjoyed a few early morning beers (hey it was the weekend!) and when it was time to leave, Randy handed over $100 to our cause from the lads in memory of his Aunt Bonnie, sadly another Alzheimer’s victim.

10am beers are the best beers?

Joe with the lads.

With our farewell we were given fair warning of a rather brutal 4 mile climb between 6-10% as you exit the city. ~50 minutes later (for me anyway, Joe was off being a mountain goat again) we were at the top after the first serious climb of the tour, it was a good indicator of what was to come over the next week as we made our way down towards San Francisco.

Climbing time.

On the way down we met Jeff. Joe had chatted to him briefly back at Sunset Bay while I’d been away filming, and I’d spotted him on the road the day before as we’d been having lunch, but as we enjoyed our hard earned downhill we formed a peloton.

Jeff was on an epic trip of his own, setting off from his home in Salt Lake City, Utah he’d headed North through Idaho and then West to Portland and then down the Coast. His ride set up for the Mountains, with fat tyres, he was often hitting trails we would never manage and although it would slowed him down on the road, he kept up with us for the afternoon.

Very much in Redwood country now the trees got bigger and bigger, natural skyscrapers hundreds of years old that you couldn't help but look up at with wonder. There was even the chance to cycle through one, worth the 25% (!!!) short climb to get there!

Steep but worth it.

Jeff!

The Tour Thru Tree

After cruising down the 101 for most of the day, we found ourselves halfway up a 2nd slightly less brutal climb and coming off onto Newton B. Dury Scenic Parkway cutting through one of many Redwood National Parks. This helped take the mind off the final 100 vertical meters, after which we enjoyed 10kms of pure downhill to finish off the day’s cycling.

Downhill is good!

Arriving at Elk Prairie campsite the Elks were still annoyingly elusive, however we picked a spot to camp and found Emily from Boston, a friend of Jeff’s from the road. Not a bad way to end a day of many new friends, cracking open my well travelled Oregon wine and creating a communal kitchen around the campfire.

Monday October 30th 2017 Tour Day 31 Cycle Day 22: Elk Prairie to Eureka

Elks! Finally getting to see them up close.

With plans to see each Jeff and Emily again Joe and I headed off for Eureka where a motel awaited and the Elks finally decided to come and say hello, giving credence to the camp’s name. The ride was relatively non-descript save for an excellent French dip sandwich in Trinadad and an extreme head wind for the final hour!

FEEEEEED MEEEEEEE!

The upside of this wind meant arriving in Eureka to blue skies again, the cloud that had hung over us since Port Orford blown away.

It turned out that our pretty cheap motel had some pretty decent amenities. A complimentary “continental” breakfast, a Laundromat providing some much needed washing after a week on the road, and unbelievably a pool allowing for some muscle soothing swimming! Putting the Super in Super 8!

A post shared by Kit MacInnes-Manby (@cycling_pacific) on Oct 30, 2017 at 9:03pm PDT

Eureka! It’s “Swimming”

Feeling good, the Lost Coast Brewery was just down the road capping off the day with some grub and a few jars.

Tuesday October 31st 2017 Tour Day 32 Cycle Day 23: Eureka to Burlington

Halloween! Big news in The US of A and following our “continental” breakfast of sugary cereals and waffles we ventured out. Not to be left disappointed we were greeted with plenty of ghouls, ghosts, and all manner of ghastly creatures, presumably on the way to work, going all out in their fancy dress efforts.

Some ethereal spirits spotted.

There was a shout of “Hey! Kit and Joe!” and for a minute we thought that our fame was proceeding us, but as we looked around it turned out it was David from Crescent City going past in his pick-up.

With the good weather back and very little undulation we rolled along at a fair pace, so much so that we accidentally flew past the exit for a planned visit to Loleta Cheese Factory, we made an extra effort to visit the Pacific Lumber Company Museum in Scotia, but alas it was sadly closed and so we missed what surely would have been the highlight of any trip. In all seriousness, the next turn off the 101 did prove to be a real highlight as we peddled along the Avenue of the Giants – a stretch of scenic back road on the Old Coast Highway, cut through yet more monumental Redwoods, the largest organisms on the planet!

Truly unreal.

S’mores (US. contraction of some more) had been a hot topic when sitting around the campfire with our American comrades back in Elk Prairie so when resupplying just before camp I grabbed the key ingredients. Arriving at Burlington campsite we had no sooner pitched tent when who should arrive but none other than Jeff and Emily to show us the proper technique in making these American Delicacies.

S’mores :)

Jeff talking us through the finer points of s’more making.

To make your own:

American Classic S'mores:

Graham Crackers

Hershey’s Milk Chocolate (melted to preference)

Marshmallows (fire roasted to preference)

Partially melt the chocolate if you like while you roast the marshmallow over the campfire, stick both between two graham crackers to make a sandwich, and enjoy!

Now I have to say these are definitely not bad, however I can’t help think they could be much improved, and so I give you the (as yet untested, but almost certainly excellent): 

New and Improved British S’more:

Digestive Biscuit (or possibly Rich Tea)

Cadbury’s Milk Chocolate (Plastic tasting American Chocolate is surely the weak link in the classic version)

Marshmallows (they got one part right).

Wednesday November 1st 2017 Tour Day 33 Cycle Day 24: Burlington to Westport

Camping in Redwoods.

Into our 2nd month of touring it also marked the beginning (although we didn’t know it yet) of the hardest consecutive days of cycling we would meet. A combined 400km (250 miles) of riding and 5,250m (17,215ft) of climbing over the next three days, culminating in a 150km (92 mile), 2,015m (6,611m) final day before arriving at San Francisco. This was partly our fault as we set ambitious daily targets to get us into SF for the weekend without considering the impact of the elevation.

Hills ahead!

Blissfully unaware we left Jeff and Emily to enjoying a day off in the woods (Joe and I were slightly concerned with Jeff’s plans of “spiritual awakening” but I can report he made it out the other side!). Leaving the Redwoods behind we gently climbed our way towards Leggett where the next state park campsite lay. We’d made good time however and given it was only 3pm there was a decision to make. I favoured being conservative while Joe thought we should push on. In the end we went for it as the map suggested a campsite in Westport, and it’s a good thing we did given how long the next two days turned out to be…

At Leggett we left highway 101 for the last time. If you count the Canadian 101 we’d been to it’s northern most point at Powel River, picked it back up again in Aberdeen WA, and followed it down the coast in Oregon. It had served us well for the most part but it was time to say goodbye (save for a small section around Santa Barbra where it merges with the 1) and time to say hello to Highway 1, otherwise known as the much admired Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) which would see us, bar a few detours, all the way to San Diego and the Mexican Border!

There was just the small matter of a 400m climb out of the valley and back to the coast. It was certainly worth it though, at the top we found a crisp and refreshing fresh water spring and the prospect of a 10 mile(!) 600m decent back to sea level. Fairly epic, I was going so fast that the few cars on the road couldn’t keep up!

Flying!

Arriving at camp we were horrified to see that just to pitch a tent was $40! We’d heard California was pricy, we’d already encountered the price doubling from Washington/Oregon state parks to Cali’s ($5 to a whopping $10), but this private campsite was taking the piss. Out of principle we rode on into the tiny village of Westport finding a lovely BnB for the night. It may have cost twice as much, but with a king sized bed, Wi-Fi, TV, and breakfast, this seemed like far better value for money.

Thursday November 2nd 2017 Tour Day 34 Cycle Day 25: Westport to Gualala

Breakfast Bagels devoured the cold and cloudy weather had returned for our push to San Francisco. It was an attritional affair. Setting the scene for the next two days, unlike the day before, there were no big mountains to conquer, instead of being able to settle into a good climbing pace, and then enjoy the long descent, it was a very long series of short, sharp ups and downs, no more than 100m at a time.

Day 24 Burlington to Westport - 122km (76 miles) & 1,665m (5,463ft) climbing.

Day 25 Westport to Gualala - 128km (78 miles) & 1,567m (5,141ft) climbing.

Day 26 Gualala to Forest Knolls - 148km (92 miles) & 2,015m (6,611ft) climbing.

While one at a time they didn’t seem like much, in aggregate they became a monster. To add to this, somewhere around Fort Bragg I suffered my third puncture (that’s 3-0 vs Joe), a nice big chunk of glass.

Yay.

Sending Joe off to Mendocino while I changed inners again, two fellow tourers turned up to offer a hand, Rosie and Amir also making tracks to SF. Rosie on a post uni trip from her Canadian homeland (and as of time of writing in Feb 18, still going in South America!), I could sympathise with her well strapped knees as mine were starting to complain again. Amir, an Israeli architect-cum-artist on the way to his first US exhibition.

Now well versed in puncture repair, I was rolling again soon, and we all headed to the highly recommended Good Life Café and Bakery in Mendocino to find Joe.

Amir and Rosie.

Stopping for supplies in Gualala we very nearly got offered a bed for the night from a former Londoner, but it was 10 miles back in the wrong direction. We did however get talking to a Welsh former bar owner in SF, who handily provided recommendations for where to watch the up and coming autumn rugby internationals! 

Requiring further sustenance we retreated to the Cove Azul Bar & Grill for some much needed liquid refreshment, following which I discovered yet another puncture! With darkness descended, it was again a tomorrow problem and I limped into camp where after much thrashing though shrubbery, we eventually found the biker spot.

Friday November 3rd 2017 Tour Day 35 Cycle Day 26: Gualala to Forest Knolls

The day that nearly broke us: Cold, grey, and hilly, thankfully dry but seemingly endless. I can look back through San Francisco appropriate rose-tinted glasses on the rugged charm of the last stretch of Northern California that reminded me of Scotland, but make no mistake this was tough riding, the combination of the two prior days with the longest day to date and the greatest elevation in the whole trip. It didn’t have to be this way; to blame was a somewhat unnecessary self-imposed timetable to arrive in SF for the weekend.

The day got off to the worst possible start when I discovered that the puncture from the night before was in fact a result of a complete tyre sidewall failure. Thankfully we had two folding tyres spare, which would do the trick until SF.

It wasn’t all bad though and one big highlight, stopping in the one restaurant town of Jenner, the River’s End not only provided us with excellent food but also the excellent company of Miriam and Debbie, adding another $50 for our cause.

Miriam and Debbie

It’s fair to say tempers were becoming frayed by the end of the day and it was with great relieve we arrived in Lagunitas to sample some of the actually famous local beers and reflect on one hell of a day. A few more peddles and we made it to our destination, the touring veterans Margit and James.

Having completed San Francisco to Argentina and then Alaska to San Francisco Margit and James knew a thing or two about touring. Fantastic warmshower hosts their hospitality and homemade soup, washed down with plenty of beer and wine rejuvenated our spirits as we whiled away the evening. 

San Francisco was just around the corner and we were looking forward to taking a week off to explore the city, but first some well earned sleep was required, no sooner had my head hit the pillow and I was California dreaming…

Total Distance Cycled:   1,839km (1,143miles) Total Distance Climbed: 17,450m (57,251ft - 2.0 Everests)

Our third week of touring took us from Portland, through the wine country, beaches and dunes of Oregon, to the Californian border. We met riders on trips that really put ours into perspective by their sheer magnitude, had to stop many times to take in the most scenic and interesting riding yet, I very nearly blew myself up, and finished on the hardest ride to date cycling through mind bending fog and muscle sapping cold. Done with criss-crossing states this was when we finally pointed our noses south and really got into our stride. In short it pinpoints when I fell in love with touring.

Many thanks to David and Hope our warmshower hosts in Crescent City.

Monday October 23rd 2017 Tour Day 24 Cycle Day 15: Portland to Grande Ronde

Mondays are a time to return to work and after hiding out in Portland we felt ready to get back at it. With the storm past, Philip Croome wisely suggested taking the “Reach the Beach” route. The plan was to follow it as far as Grande Ronde where it looked like we could camp for the night, before heading for Lincoln City to the south rather than north to Pacific City.

Feeling rejuvenated, we wound our way through central Portland, a quick stop at REI for camp fuel (which will have more relevance later), and out through the southwest suburbs. Setting off in still broody weather we began to stretch out our legs again, prior aches and pains melted away and so too did the low grey clouds that had hung over Portland for the duration of our stay. Before we knew it we emerged from the urban sprawl and into the best inland riding of the entire trip. The sun shining bright, with fresh legs and smiles on our faces, we wound through Oregon’s wine country, vines dominating the horizon.

For the first time I felt that this was touring. This is how it should feel. No particular pressure or time to be anywhere. No great rush. A feeling of tranquil bliss, upon which to reflect and watch the world slowly pass you by.

In the first week, everything felt new, a nervous energy permeating the early days. While British Columbia is undoubtedly beautiful, the vast majority of the riding was through dense pine, offering only glimpses of what lay beyond. There was a staccato feeling too as each day was broken up by ferry rides, disturbing the flow of a ride.

Since leaving the San Juan Islands the second week had often felt like we were tiring to get somewhere, Seattle, then back to the coast and at Aberdeen the need to out run a storm and race to Portland.

Now I was acclimatised, at ease, I could enjoy the journey, I wasn’t getting on with getting there, I was touring.

It’s hard not to enjoy yourself when confronted with a place like this.

Open roads

Aero AF.

Deconstructed wine, coming to a hipster pop up near you.

Eat your heart out Windows XP.

Not bad Autumn, not bad.

And I think Joe agreed

The miles ticked along unnoticed, the only downside; all the vineyard tasting rooms were closed on Mondays. We arrived at Grande Ronde to find the campsite very much an RV destination and a sign that camping was closed for the season. With no one around it looked like we might be out of luck, the joy of the day replaced by the prospect of having to carry on. The only accommodation nearby seemed to be a casino 10 miles back at $300/night or the next campsite 50 miles further. With the light fading neither seemed optimal so as I continued to Google, Joe being ever practical set off in search of someone in charge.

Luckily for us Joe soon returned having found the owners’ son. What’s more, they didn't seem interested in charging in off-season and we didn’t think it was our place to argue!

Camping down by the river tucked in behind the mass of RVs we enjoyed another Joe special spaghetti and politely declined the free shuttle bus that arrived to ferry residence to the aforementioned casino.

Live by the river, London is not calling.

Tuesday October 24th 2017 Tour Day 25 Cycle Day 16: Grande Ronde to Beverley Beach

Another beautiful day lay ahead with the promise of a beach at the other end. With only 4hrs cycling required an early start seemed sensible 1) to make the most of an afternoon soaking up rays or taking a dip in the pacific for the first time and 2) to make sure they didn’t change their mind on free camping!

The vines of yesterday swapped for autumnal forests, we cycling through corridors of colour under a canopy of crimson.

Bring forth the GIFs!

There was a brief detour to take a look at the American wonder that is an outlet mall. A quick check of Oregon’s own (Nike) and a mental note to find one of these post-cycling to stock up before heading home.

Having learned my lesson on the importance of keeping legs well fuelled I began developing efficient eating methods: 

Fast food, extremely nutritious. 

And then, after almost 4 weeks on the road, a vast deep blue came into view. We’d caught glimpses of it in Washington but now, as the road arrived at Lincoln City, we arrived at the Pacific, to be almost ever present on our right for the remainder of the trip.

Hello Pacific

A stretch through Jurassic Park took us to Cape Foulweather, thankfully looking anything but, again our time in Portland paying off judging by this picture from my friend Elishka two weeks earlier on her own Pacific Tour.

Cape Foulweather

Cape (un)Foulweather.

Jurassic Scenes (cue melodica)

On the lookout for T-Rex

Local glassblowing in Taft.

Arriving at Beverley Beach State Park it was time to make the most of the afternoon sun with some ice water therapy and a first dip in the Pacific.

Ice ice baby.

Tuesday are tough.

Bikes and Beaches.

This could almost be described as a holiday.

Dried off Joe decided he wanted to change up our spaghetti special going off in search of veg and meat while I set up camp in the woods as the light faded.

Our first fellow camper was already there, it seemed we were finally not the only ones crazy enough to be camping at this time of year, resulting in a helpful demonstration of the bear lockers, complete with charging plugs and some left over food up for grabs! Finding some apple puree pots inside started off a new breakfast tradition to mix in with our porridge. 

Joe’s heroic return signalled a much-improved meal, complete with meat and some (tinned) veg, even if it did involve an extra 20km on his part!

Wednesday October 25th 2017 Tour Day 26 Cycle Day 17: Beverley Beach to Jessie M. Honeyman

Our first full day “coasting” was exactly in line with my now well-worn guidebook.

“Expect travel time to be long and distances between stops very short.”

You could say it started with a metaphorical bang of scenery and ended with a VERY literal one, but more on that later.

We swapped the open plains and rolling hills for the vast open horizon of the Pacific Ocean, and winding coastal road.

No sooner had we jumped on our bikes it was time to jump off again. Yaquina Lighthouse National Park, still in active service although automated in the 1960s. Life described of the early keepers in the late 19th and early 20th century sounded fairly Spartan. Enduring months of isolation, for the head keeper there was at least the company of his family, if you were the assistant it was a bachelor’s life and not altogether clear how one would go about rectifying the situation.

Still the views might offer some consolation.

Finally heading in the right direction - just keep the water on the right.

Another short ride, another bridge to conquer, its beauty belying the terror of the traverse. Thankfully it was no Astoria epic and we safely found ourselves on the other side and cycling into the “world’s largest collection of chainsaw wood carvings”. Whether or not the claim holds true I’m not sure, given the frequency with which you find yourself in a world famous this or that. Almost every small town you’ve never heard of has some claim.

Beauty...

...and terror.

Ships worldwide...

Joe got a free hair cut – giving us this wonderful pun, check out some more we found here...

...and I got a drive through wrap.

In the afternoon we were in search of Sea Lions, not all that successfully at various so-called hot spots along the way.

Our 2nd and final tunnel had to be navigated, which can be pretty nasty (see bridges). I survived but Joe had a bit of a scrape with the sidewall after being pushed about by a truck’s backdraft.

Coming out the other end, after a short climb, in a small layby with yet more epic views we met Jin and Rue. Hands down these guys beat everyone we met for most epic touring route. Over the last 2 years they had cycled from Beijing where they lived, along the Silk Road through Asia to Turkey and from Turkey down through Africa to Cape Town. After flying home for a short break and to pick up European visas they flew back to Turkey and continued on through Europe to Portugal, then flew from Paris to New York where they had cycled North into Canada, traversed from East to West before heading South at Vancouver picking up a route similar to ours. They were at time of meeting headed for San Francisco where they were planning an extended break before heading home for Chinese New Year. The plan was then to return to SF and complete the round the world tour by heading through Central and South America finishing at the bottom of Argentina in Tierra del Fuego!

Some staying power!

The obligatory comparison of kit.

Meeting fellow touring cyclists is almost always inspiring. You may think that you are on a heroic journey, but there’s always someone somewhere doing something harder/faster/stronger. If you took a look on the word map of our trip at Jin and Rue’s scale, it would probably only be the width of a fingernail. But this is not a competition, to paraphrase; while the race is long, in the end it is only with yourself, so make sure you enjoy your own journey.

As the day drew to a close, there was one final stop at perhaps the most curious of attractions we encountered. The Darlington Botanical Gardens, home to a large wild collection of carnivorous flowers.

After leading Joe in completely the wrong direction through the woods in what I thought was a path, we managed not to end up being digested ourselves and found this interesting insect eater.

We rolled into camp as darkness descended and found our way into the secluded hiker/biker campsite after what I thought was the best day yet. Joe was feeling a little beat and headed of to shower while I set up camp and got supper going.

There was about ½ a litre of a very dirty burning camp fuel left. Having found some cleaner stuff back in Portland meant we no longer had to spend forever scrubbing soot off our pans, I thought it might be a good idea to start a fire with the old stuff…

Joe having returned watched on as I collected some slightly damp firewood and with the philosophy of more is more, doused the entirety of the fuel in a fire ring. What a sensible person would have done at this point, is to light a small torch and carefully ignite from afar.

Not me. Lighter in hand I stuck my head in and clicked…

An almighty flash blinded me, an intense heat and defining roar engulfed my upper body. Apparently a very impressive fireworks display from across the campsite I near enough did a double backflip before finding myself lying in a bush, the smell of singed hair in the air, left more than a little red faced.  

A lot of Sudocrem applied, I was fairly concerned but thankfully I’d only lost most of the hair on the backs of my hands and a bit of my (thankfully bushy) eyebrows, the worst effect was the feeling of a bad case of sunburn for the next few days.

Of course the fire failed to catch and had quickly burned itself out.

Whoops - Plenty of Sudocrem, the scraggly beard strangely fire resistant!

Thursday October 26th 2017 Tour Day 27 Cycle Day 18: Jessie M. Honeyman to Sunset Bay

Lacking in the way of breakfast supplies we packed up and headed to the nearby Dunes. The day would be mostly inland along the dunes but with them not being easy to see from the road we thought a wander was in hand before setting off.

Thankfully yobs on ATVs absent.

With food on the brain it turned out to be 30km to the next town and my imagination ran wild with desire. Thankfully we found an excellent local diner in Reedsport to load up on full stacks of pancakes and taco omelettes, Joe even managed to find the only source of vitamins on the menu (tinned peaches). 

Giving it the eyebrows.

The woodcarver the previous day had highly recommended a local Elk reserve nearby and after getting directions from our waitress we made the small detour to find it.

As I cycled along a great internal debate began in my head, the sort of thought process that can only occur when you have so much time to contemplate life, the universe, and Elk rights. It all started with a slightly guilty feeling from eating an Elk burger a few days prior at Deschutes Brewery back in Portland. As we headed to the reserve, this turned into the morality of intensive farming practices to provide the meat we pick up in supermarkets, which lead to the reasoning that, if we did not eat meat, there would be far less cattle/sheep etc. in existence rather than more. And so I found myself having the philosophical debate of weather it is better to exist but lead an unfulfilling or even miserable life, or not exist at all? Extending further to consider not just animals but Humans, and into areas of euthanasia and abortion to prevent future misery from disease or disability. A small insight into the strange rabbit holes your mind (or at least mine) can disappear into when left to its own devices! Thankfully before I became too lost we arrived.

Not so thankfully it turned out the Elks had other ideas, possibly in protest at my burger eating habits, the educational signs informed us that the best time to see the Elks up close was at dawn and dusk when they would venture closer to the road, but being 1.15pm we were there at precisely the wrong time and they were staying in the shade far away.

Some Elk, I swear!

Elks and moral quandaries left behind there was plenty more to see at the top of some hill where we got some seafood recomendations for the following day. 

We skirted past the outskirts of Glasgow, stocking up on supplies in Coos Bay and speeding along the final stretch to make it in time for sunset.

And what a Sunset, the bay certainly was aptly named.

Not a bad way to end the day.

Friday October 27th 2017 Tour Day 28 Cycle Day 19: Sunset Bay to Port Orford

Our final full day in Oregon, soon we would be into our final US state, but first we headed up for an early morning walk around the spot I had spent capturing the sunset the night before. The site of a former logging baron’s mansion, since burned down, leaving behind amazing botanical gardens now part of the sate park. We had the place to ourselves except for a worker crew of local convicts undertaking maintenance work, looking somewhat enviously at our bikes and the freedom they offered.

Some odd looks from the inmates at two lycra clad tourists.

Back on the road legs and lungs were soon working hard as we met the Seven Devils. Seven consecutive climbs through beautiful pine forests complete with helpful notes from prior conquers.

I disagree.

"The real devil has an engine”.

Last but not least.

I finally made Joe stop at a seafood place in Bannon, highly recommended by a couple of road trippers whom we’d shared a view with the day before.

Probably the only downside of traveling with Joe is his disgust of seafood, fairly suboptimal for a coastal trip! Still while I enjoyed my oysters and fish tacos it gave him time to send off postcards home.

Signs for miles told us that we would be passing “the best homemade jam in Oregon”.  This sort of marketing seemingly still affective on us (see earlier rant), we stopped in at Misty Meadows Jams. After much perusing we finally decided on some Huckleberry Jam because Joe loved to bring up his factoid about the uncultivable nature of the berries. Sadly what we didn’t know was how bitter they were, not great when eagerly anticipating some sweet fruit in your porridge the following day! More happily I’d pick up a rather nice Oregon wine, given we’d already sampled British Columbian and Washington varieties. It aged well for a few more days in my panniers until an opportune moment arose to open.

Jamin.

We arrived in Port Orford (or Port Awful as Joe likes to remember it) still bathed in sunshine. Stopping off in the local supermarket to resupply, I watched the bikes, enjoying a steak sandwich from the car park barbecue and being serenaded by a slightly deranged looking fellow and his dog.

As we hopped on our bikes for the final 10km to Humbug Mountain campsite, out of nowhere a think and heavy fog descended just in time for Halloween weekend. Not being able to see 10 feet in front of you is less than ideal and I didn’t take much convincing when Joe suggested the we take refuge in a motel as we passed out of town rather than continue on. Unfortunately both at the edge of town were full and we were sent in search of the only other hotel back in town. Again there was no room at the inn, and slightly crestfallen we had just started rolling again when a loud whistle pierced the air – a last minute cancelation and salvation, Joe even charming our way into a discount!

Taking refuge in the “Oldest townsite on Oregon’s coast”. Stretching claims to fame est. 1851.

Deciding to save our supplies we set off in search of supper, however it quickly became apparent that everywhere shut at 8pm in Port Awful, leaving Joe particularly sad as he had found a BBQ rib joint on tripadvisor. Luckily the local bar was open and the chef kind enough to reopen his kitchen to feed the starving cyclists.

American Pie

Back in the hotel the idea came to raise some more money by participating in our own version of Movember which I posted about here.

The things we do for charity.

Saturday October 28th 2017 Tour Day 29 Cycle Day 20: Port Orford to Crescent City

Well rested we enjoyed the relative comfort of our surroundings and serendipitous opportunity to watch the England U17 beat Spain 5-2 to win the U17 World Cup!

However the weather had not improved overnight giving everything a broody feeling. Coming out of town, taking a look out over the bay we stopped for a picture and met the incredible Stephen Swift. 

Stephen diagnosed with terminal cancer back in 2012, set off on his bike to raise money as his last act of defiance. Five years on and he’s still going, having now cycled over 20,000 miles, through all of the 48 mainland states and parts of Mexico and Canada. A fairly incredible feat, he was now heading north to his Oregon home. Since he was very much still alive and kicking this wasn’t the end, he’d decided on a new challenge to kayak from Anchorage, Alaska to Tierra del Fuego, Argentina! Incredible stuff and he had a few words of wisdom, including some campsites to miss, particularly Emma Woods near Ventura, California where he’d had his third bike stolen in the middle of the night! You can steal his bike but you cannot diminish his unwavering fortitude!

Go Stephen!

The rest of the day was fairly attritional, the mist and flat light playing with your perception of reality. Flat ground would appear downhill and 5% inclines would look flat, resulting in the messages coming from your legs and eyes to contradict. It fell like you were putting in far too much effort for very little gain with the cold sapping energy from muscles as the day seemed to drag on.

MISTical. 

Broody.

There was the brief highlight of crossing the boarder into California with Phantom Planet on repeat in my head.

Not quite the sunshine and Hollywood glam that often springs to mind with California.

The light at the end of the tunnel was another warmshower host, which we were very glad to arrive at, even if a little concerned with our neighbours – the infamous Pelican Bay State Prison.

David and his wife Hope got us settled into our army-esque tent as we got some washing underway. More tour stories swapped as David had recently completed the Oregon Coast as part of a larger trip by his Son who was cycling the whole coast.

Home for the night.

Trying to find some food, the local restaurant had decided to close unhelpfully early. I decided on cutting my losses and heading back for an early night but Joe was determined to find something to do on Halloween Saturday – something Americans seem to take very seriously. He reported back that he had found an excellent Thai, although how much of that was down to the six pints of Bud light (soon to become a Joe favourite) is open to debate.

Very punny indeed - OK enough with the pun based puns.

As you may have guessed from some of my earlier posts, I’ve got a soft side for a good pun.

America seems to be the land of the pun when it comes to local shops’ advertising and signs. Maybe it’s the entrepreneurial ethos of the country that encourages the creativity freedom, maybe Americans just like puns more than us brits.

I’m not sure exactly when the abundance of these signs hit me, although I do remember noticing them early on, it was after a sign for a chiropractor in Aberdeen, WA that read “In pain? We Knead you!” that I decided I needed to start documenting them

In a break from the norm here’s a left field post documenting some of the best pun signs we saw along the way. I’m not sure however that they replace my favourite, the food truck that sustained me in the early hours of my student days.

The famous Jason Donervan, Bristol Triangle.

Here they are in no particular order:

1. Depoe Baykery

The Depoe Baykery of Depoe Bay, OR. An easy one to get your loaf around.

2. Thai-rrific 

Thai-rrific Restaurant in San Luis Opisbo. The owners were not SLO with this great name.

3. Flounder Inn

Flounder Inn on Oregon’s Coast.

4. Smooth Hoperator

A tasty beer from Base Camp Brewery. Smooth Hoperators indeed.

5. Straight to the pint

Shawrt on time? Skip the queue at Salt and Straw in LA and grab some ice cream.

6. Dumped

Food truck in Portland.

7. Hairs My Card

Joe popped in for a trim at Hair Smiles.

8. Blade Runners

Another hair cutting pun, this time in San Francisco.

9. Seoul Food

Sadly it looks like the food wasn’t as good as the name as it seems to be out of business.

10. Pizza by the slice

I’ll buy that.

11. Frying Scotsman

Frying everything feels like an authentic Scottish experience.

12. Growing Pains.

Total Distance Cycled:   1,202km (747 miles) Total Distance Climbed: 11,929m (39,137ft - 1.3 Everests)

The journey is over but the story continues. 

It turns out I need to lock myself away and have very little stimuli when writing. When cycling I thought “I’m cycling all day, I don’t have time to write witty prose”. When finished I was very busy doing stuff. OK, so I actually spent a week doing nothing but watching Netflix, eating tacos, drinking tequila and sitting on a beach in Mexico, but after cycling for a very long time that seemed fair. Then the following month was spent playing tourist as various friends and family turned up in Southern California and I drove around in a cliché red convertible Mustang called Sally. Christmas arrived, I deep fried a turkey for some hippies in the Malibu hills, amongst other things, but all that’s a story for another time.

Better things to do!

Now back in cold and dark London and with the realities of unemployment setting in I can procrastinate no longer (or perhaps procrastinate from finding a job and reentering the “real” world). Plus I tried to go cycling and it was cold, wet and then I crashed into a curb and picked up my first road rash like a complete n00b.

So more that I have something to do, it’s time to pick up the story again.

A big thank you to our our hosts in Oregon, Steve and his free cycling hostel, and Barb and her wonderful hospitality. 

Now without further gilding the lily and no more ado, join me on a journey through both space and time. We left our heroes, having just risked their lives entering Oregon and trying to out run a storm. 

A long time ago, in a place far away…

Monday October 16th 2017 (continued) Tour Day 17 Cycle Day 12: Aberdeen to Astoria

Refreshed, well fed and altogether satisfied following the hardest day’s riding so far, Alejandro, Joe and I received word from our host that he was home and thankfully only two blocks away. We arrived at Steve’s place, an informal cycling hostel at near capacity. Our second Warm Showers host, the brilliant free cyclist accommodation community, was really taking it to the next level. Joining our trio we had Alex and Daniel, newly wed Germans on an 11-month cycling honeymoon, and Marti and Ed a Norwegian/English couple from Edinburgh on their way to the bottom of Baja from the top of Alaska! Steve’s motto of “everyone’s welcome” truly in force, the only house rule being “make yourself at home”.

A quick tour of the recently renovated formerly derelict house, quickly demonstrated Steve’s dedication to fellow cyclists. Rebuilt using recycled wood from the local boats it was a great place to rest as the fabled rain started to come down. An upstairs office and bedroom served Steve. The rest of the house free rein to passing cyclists; several other bedrooms, kitchen and large living space complete with warm fire, what more could you want? As the 7 of us settled in it seemed more like a bike workshop than house. 

Joe and I had gone the previous two weeks without seeing anyone else on a “serious” tour; we had now met 7 in one day: the two couples already at Steve’s, along with Alejandro, and a brief encounter with an Italian couple earlier in the day. It seemed we were catching up with the more organised who had left earlier in the season and as such could enjoy a more leisurely pace south.

Beers duly procured the evening carried on with stories swapped and future plan’s discussed. Chief amongst these, one of the big questions I had had prior to departure: Big Sur. Regularly mentioned as the highlight of any trip down the coast, cycled or otherwise, we got the first of whispered rumour and hear-say about the passability of the revered stretch of coastline.

Highway 1, or the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) as it’s known, stretches almost the entire length of the Californian coast, from Legget in the Northern Redwoods, all the way down to San Diego on the Mexican border. It was to be our principle route in California with Big Sur sitting roughly in the middle of it, about half way between San Francisco and LA. 

Reportedly the most expensive highway in America to maintain, the Big Sur stretch had suffered two large landslides, a perpetual threat all along the 1 as the steep coast falls into the Pacific below. The two slides this time had blocked the road in the North near Monterey and in the South near San Simeon with thousands of tons of rock and mud in early 2017.

We knew the slide in the North had been reopened but the official news was that the south slide would not be cleared until January 2018 at the earliest. Steve however had reports from prior visitors that it was passable, and even that it was fully open, although others said the only way south was a long and unpleasant diversion through the mountains or a 140-mile return trip from Monterey before heading south inland. More uncertain than ever, all Joe and I knew was that we really didn't want to miss it.

With the log hearth burning away, Joe and I settled onto the sofas and drifted into a much-needed sleep.

Tuesday October 17th 2017 Tour Day 18 Cycle Day 13: Astoria to Kalama

Rain, and lots of it. Peering out on the slowly appearing wet and grey morning, the prior day’s decision to push on for warmth and dry roof looked justified. A downpour was underway and it looked like our plan to wait in Portland for it all to blow over might not come soon enough. 

At least 100 miles lay between Portland and us, which is a long time in the saddle on a dry day with no luggage. A quick Google identified a single Motel approximately halfway down a route that would follow the Columbia River southeast to Portland. It did mean crossing back into Washington for the night, however thankfully not via the hellish Astoria bridge. It also meant cycling through Vancouver, WA just north of Portland, giving the opportunity to make a joke about going round in circles and poor navigation skills, which if there is ever a reason to take a particular route, is probably as good as it gets.

With a relatively short ride ahead it also meant we could enjoy a morning off, a situation instantly improved when Steve appeared with ingredients for waffles. In efficient German style, Daniel’s production line started and soon I was piling on toppings and pouring over Maple Syrup to a limitless supply.

Daniel clearly looking happy with his work thus far.

About 10% of total production.

Happy Tuesday.

Daniel, Alex, Marti, Ed, Steve, Joe, Kit.

Our bedroom for the night.

The morning passed, the rain eased and as midday approached we said our goodbyes and set off. The rain ceased altogether and before long we were once again cycling in sunshine and thanking our good fortune. This was slightly tempered by the route which heading inland meant a lot of up and down, although reassuringly less chance of being tsunamied, which I hadn’t really worried about until that point but would now be constantly reminded about whenever cycling along the coast further south.

Oh goody

A more imminent threat was access to large forests meaning regular encounters with logging trucks that have little interest in cyclists and speed by at close proximity. The upside is a pleasant pine scent in the air as they rush past, unfortunately this coincides with a less pleasant backdraft sucking you into their path. However spirit’s were clearly high due to our dryness as demonstrated by this possibly hubris clip.

No rain is always good

As the day wore on it became clear that I was struggling as Joe disappeared into the distance. The prior day, the hills, and my Achilles which I’d over extended early in the trip all combining to slow me down and erode my enthusiasm. For me it was an attritional afternoon and I was more than happy to find Joe waiting outside a Subway in the middle of nowhere that was Clatskanie. 

Plenty of wood

Food as is probably apparent, is the key to a happy cyclist. Most of the time you are either looking for water, food, a bed, or a combination of the three. Food hands down stands out as having the quickest reviving effect and moral boosting qualities. We also surmised that Subway was going to become a staple as one, if not the only, reliable source of vegetables and dietary variation available at a reasonable price relatively often. While initially annoyed at this outcome it became clear that this was a sad fact not only of American touring, but also the food available to your average American in general. In the land of the Big Mac, eating anything like a balanced diet is far harder than you might think, far from the convenience offered by the golden arches, and prohibitively expensive for most. Cheap sugar, carbs and protein, sure. Vitamins, what are vitamins?

This particular Subway had a former Portland resident and left with what turned out to be an excellent recommendation from our “chef” to check out Pok Pok when we got there. Having eaten something “healthy” for the first time in a while the next challenge ahead was re-crossing the Columbia at Longview, which we had been helpfully informed earlier, has some of the highest gun crime rates in the entire US. A speedy visit was decided upon but another bridge had to be navigated. The good news; it was much shorter than the previous one, with an actual shoulder. The bad news; the shoulder was entirely covered in bark and other threats to tyre integrity to accompany very busy traffic.

Successfully surviving both the bridge and the guns, my back tyre had not and with the sun going down it was clear I had another puncture. With only a few miles to go this felt a lot like a tomorrow problem. I limped along the final few miles and into our first Motel experience.

Electric Birds

On the right track

Motel time, just like the movies.

Over the excitement of the motel, we oriented ourselves in Kalama “city”, as all towns in the US seem to call themselves, consisting of 1st street, and… and that was it. It did however have an abundance of deserted restaurants and antique stores (read junk, nothing’s old enough to be an antique here). My favourite was the interesting fusion of Chinese Laundromat/café/antique boutique however we settled on the Lucky Dragon. Ordering one main each, presented with enough food to feed an entire family, for an entire week, who hadn’t eaten the entire previous week. Otherwise known as an American standard portion. Sadly my inner 16-year-old girl forgot to take a picture on this occasion but I did take one of this apt fortune cookie.

No Shit

Wednesday October 18th 2017 Tour Day 19 Cycle Day 14: Kalama to Portland

With determined rain washing out the morning a wise decision was made to make the most of the 11 o’clock check out. The decision to microwave the remains of last night’s Chinese was less so. Feeling slightly queasy I made swift work of my second puncture of the trip. Apparently this was worthy of investigation as a slightly mad looking woman approached to enquire our business and then, in the habit of many American strangers, tell us her life story. 

It transpired she’d managed to fall out with the entirety of her family, leaving them behind in Las Vegas and heading north to find a place to call home in Oregon with a car’s worth of possessions. The upside of all this was that we both departed Kalama’s Motel 6 with a good luck token and best wishes, which I suppose isn’t a bad way to leave. Having just checked, it turns out that very token is still in my waterproof shorts so it looks like it did some good work. Thank you crazy lady, your family’s loss!

Orca power

Tired of highway 5’s shoulder we’d followed from Longview, the map suggested a more scenic (and less busy) alternative was available all the way down to Vancouver and then back across the Columbia and into Portland. What maps often fail to illustrate is the elevation. Being a river valley, there was plenty of it. 

S is for Steep Hills!

Still with the rain once again stopping for us to cycle, we immediately encountered a nice 10-14% 200m climb which certainly warmed up the legs on this grey and chilly day.

Wake up cardio

We must have hit 88mph on the descent as we found ourselves in the mid 20th century and an eerily deserted town that wouldn’t look out of place in a dystopian post nuclear apocalypse alternative future or if you were roaming the wastelands of Fallout. 

Ghost Town

Back to the future, and glad not to have run into any radioactive mutants, the hills and woodlands of the last two days transformed into the large urban sprawl of Vancouver Washington which only abates at the river to become Portland Oregon.

Insert funny joke

Long touted as a place not to miss on the west coast, Portland is a cycle centric hipster paradise and start up favourite. Picture lots of independent coffee shops and an inexplicable number of people with MacBooks in them all day, with plenty of “fixies” locked outside, or a giant East London if you will. It also boasts a big food scene, and more microbreweries than you’ll ever need, and curiously the highest number of strip clubs per capita than anywhere else in the country.

Although only a 45 mile ride, it was clear both of us were ready for a proper rest. This wasn’t helped by a slight detour several miles to the wrong part of Portland where my Garmin stopped directing and declared arrival.

Now having a Garmin GPS is very useful, especially when trying to find a specific address in a city, however it is not without its gremlins. Leave it to its own devices to plot an entire route and things can go awry. If it thinks it can get you onto a cycle path, Garmin will happily take you on a 2 mile detour, for ½ a mile of bike path, to then direct you right back to the road you left only 1 mile further along. Often this “bike path” can be no more than an overgrown dirt track to boot. This and other strange "features” can lead to a lot of wasted time and frustration and so it’s always best to use some common sense.

After further investigation it appeared, on this rare occasion, to be an IBM error. My fat thumbs had put in the wrong address. Minor technical glitch sorted, we arrived and were greeted by the wonderful Barb! I met Barb at a wedding in Connecticut in the spring, the Aunt of the bride who was a childhood friend of Charlotte’s. Despite the tenuous link Barb had very generously offered a place to stay should we happen to pass through Portland. I’m not sure at the time Barb thought she would have two large men living in her front room for 4 days, but being extremely hospitable she never complained once!

Thursday-Sunday October 19th-22nd 2017 Tour Day 20-23 Rest Days 2-6

The storm finally arrived for real and with it the promised of high winds and non-stop rain for three solid days. As true fair-weather cyclists this meant a long weekend exploring Portland.

First stop: The famous Voodoo Doughnut

The famous Powell’s

Some appropriate books

Hanging out with Hipsters in Stumptown

Our first REI, the best place for some supply shopping

One or two “micro”brews

There was plenty to see and do in Portland over the next few days, we ate well, drank well and had some much needed R&R including some leg soothing massages that worked wonders.

When Barb wasn’t at work we hit up some great restaurants and even crashed Friday happy hour with her colleagues where we bumped into Ed and Marti again, on their own bike brewery tour.

Brewery tours

There was the night at a dive bar showing the obscure cult horror film Killer Clowns from outer space. How very Portland.

Amused

There was the attempted night out that lasted about an hour beforeI falling asleep on the dance floor.

Tired

Heading for a recovery brunch one morning we spotted Holman's Bar & Grill when who should I bump into but my former colleague from Northfield, whom I hadn’t seen in 5 years back in Boston, Jenna!

It really is a small world

Joe inexplicably ordering a salad, that’s not going to power legs.

I also got to have lunch at Deschutes Brewery with some family in-law, my Aunt’s Brother and his wife Philip and Joan, thanks again guys!

New family! Still raining.

And Joe and I made it to Pok Pok for some pretty fantastic Thai despite the 2 hour wait for a table.

If you love Piña Colada...

There’s two sides to every story

I even found time to post a rare entry from the road covering our time in British Columbia!

Three days of rain and Portland adventures passed and with them the storm. An autumnal feeling Sunday, crucially dry, meant a little itch began to surface again. Time to have a little scratch with a loop around the town to see what we’d missed.

Looking Autumnal and windswept

A little less glamorous than the one further south

Secret Chinese gardens... 

That we were too cheap to go into

More donuts at Blue Star - Where the Locals (hipsters) get there donuts, apparently.

We met our Scientology friends again.

Joe’s Roundabout.

Total Distance Cycled:   1,029km (639miles) Total Distance Climbed: 10,098m (33,130ft - 1.1 Everests)

From a cycling point of view Washington was a bit of a mixed bag. We visited a cycling Mecca but also spent a fair amount of time on highways just getting somewhere. This is no fault of Washington but rather the price paid for a detour to Seattle. Missing out the Olympic Peninsula meant missing out on the most rugged, remote and scenic section of the northern west coast and probably some of Washington’s best riding. However the draw of friends and bright lights in a new city proved to much, there’s always next time!

We did some more island hopping, saw the home of Microsoft, Amazon, and Starbucks while playing tourist, and visited the birthplace of grunge. We met our first guns, heard an innovative solution to Trump, and rode on one of the worst bridges imaginable.

A big thank you to our hosts along the way, Tim and Diana, Steve, Lou and Nick, and Lauri.

But before all that, picking up where I left off we still had one more day in BC and our first rest day in the provincial capital of Victoria...

Saturday October 7th 2017 (continued) Tour Day 8 Cycle Day 5: Chemainus Campsite to Victoria

Arriving in Victoria we headed to the Youth Hostel looking for a cheap bed for a couple nights and perhaps some friendly faces to explore the city with. Without a booking we weren’t worried as being “off-season” all the campsites so far had been deserted. What we hadn’t counted on was Canadian Thanksgiving and the Victoria Marathon the following day! As such the Saturday night had been booked out weeks ago and a quick scan of AirBnB and some hotel comparison sites quickly confirmed that Victoria was at capacity.

No room at the inn.

Mild panic set in at the thought of having to cycle back out of town to a campsite but thankfully the last bedroom in a nearby hotel was found. Yes it was about 6x what we had budgeted for, yes it was only one bed (thankfully king sized) but after a week on the road the luxury of it soon made us forget the price.

Having made ourselves look as respectable as possible we ventured out to see what was on offer, settling into a nice session beer chosen purely on tap handle.

Give me your tears gypsy.

Some locals quickly introduced us to this student town’s signature drink: The Crasher. Think an espresso martini with the subtlety, sophistication, and punch of a night out in Newcastle.

With a weeks worth of cycling in us and not much else things quickly escalated to the point that I lost Joe and have a vague memory of trying to square dance in a country bar... It all proved too much for these simple cyclists and we were both tucked up in bed before 10pm as the lightweights we’ve become.

9.31 - well and truly done.

Sunday October 8th 2017 Tour Day 9 Rest Day 1

“IS EVERYBODY READY!?!?!”

Hmmmm???

“LET ME SEE YOUR ARMS IN THE AIR!!!!”

“KEEP THOSE KNEES UP!!!!”

Whaaaaa???

“YOU ALL LOOK GREAT!!!!”

My head hurts... what the hell is going on?

6.30am, our first rest day but rest was far from possible as it turns out our hotel was 50m from the start/finish line for the marathon. Some overly enthusiastic American (is there any other type?) with a megaphone blaring out warm up instructions and platitudes to the gathering runners.

With sleep not on the table and the effects of the previous nights indulgences setting in, the hotel breakfast was a welcome sight, complete with waffle maker:

A post shared by Kit MacInnes-Manby (@cycling_pacific) on Oct 8, 2017 at 10:09am PDT

Not a vegetable or fruit in sight but plenty of starchy carbs and sugar to start the recovery.

A couple hours later it was also the perfect place to hang with two stars of the long distance game.

Daniel Kipoech and Kip Kangogo.

Feeling like we should be vaguely cultural we made like good tourists and checked out the Royal British Columbia Museum (The Canadian’s making like good colonials and still giving props to Liz).

Highlights included John Lennon’s Rolls Royce, complete with a dent from an old English woman who hit it with her umbrella in disgust at the defacement of the British beauty.

Ticket to ride, at one point the World’s most expensive car.

A First Nations exhibition

‘It’s only a model”.

And a historic section taking you from ice aged British Columbia through to early European settlers.

When bears were the least of your worries cycling around here.

Culture over and being Canadian Thanksgiving, what better place to enjoy a traditional meal than an English cricket themed sports bar, while enjoying some NFL?

All in all our day in Victoria was just what we needed and as we checked into the hostel 24hrs later than planned it was time to say goodbye to Canada and hello to the “Land of the Free”.

British Columbia Parliament Building.

Monday October 9th 2017 Tour Day 10 Cycle Day 6: Victoria to San Juan Island

A shortish ride back along the Lochside trail we’d come in on took us to Sidney for the ferry crossing to San Juan Island. But before we could get going, first we had to face US border control. We were quick to notice the changes in officials, no longer the friendly Canadians, welcome to the gun toting stern and serious Americans. After a mild interrogation, the first signs of warmth did appear as he told us to be careful down in Mexico (the first of many cautions about the perils of crossing the southern border, otherwise known as “Mexiphobia”, a common condition it would seem in these parts!).

Arriving into Friday Harbour of San Juan Island we headed to Tim and Diana’s (The Tim that we’d met cycling on Salt Spring Island). Tim used to fly commercial sea planes from Seattle up here and liked it so much they built a house in retirement.

The San Juan Islands are regarded as one of the best places to cycle in the US. Thankfully for us we arrived on a Monday outside the normal season and so enjoyed them to ourselves! Panniers deposited we headed out on one of Tim’s routes to the American Camp at the bottom of the island.

This was the US army base for the “Pig War” between 1859-1871 between the Americans and the British. If you’re checking your history books and thinking it’s a little late in the day for the British and Americans to be at war you’d be right. Long after the war of independence and just as the American civil war was kicking off, the Brits and Yanks decided to have a little posturing over an ambiguously defined boarder between Canada and the US, some settlers on both sides, and a pig. Over the 12 years, only 1 shot was fired and there was only one casualty, the pig.

Tuesday October 10th 2017 Tour Day 11 Cycle Day 6: San Juan to Orcas to San Juan

Fuelled up on some of Tim’s speciality protein pancakes we set off on one of the more ambitious rides of the tour thus far. Orcas Island and the 2,500ft peak of Mount. Constitution.

Leaving in bright sunshine but also the panniers (and our waterproofs) we felt great as we sped off to the ferry. I should have remembered my GCSE geography water cycle.

With not much in the way of elevation except for Mount. Constitution, there’s a fair chance that you’ll get wet on Orcas Island. Almost as soon as we arrived it started to rain, and rain, and rain. By the time we got to the base of the mountain we were soaked. The mountain itself was completely covered in cloud and so with the prospect of no view and even more rain, an executive decision was made to make it back in time for the lunch time ferry.

A cloud covered mountain as we retreated home.

Arriving back in San Juan in glorious sunshine was mildly annoying but if you’re going to have a rain day, make sure you have a solid roof and drying room to come back to!

Dry and warmed up Tim and Diana treated us to their speciality secret burgers which is in my opinion is one of the best ways to end a day’s cycling!

Burger time.

Wednesday October 11th 2017 Tour Day 12 Cycle Day 7: San Juan Island to Marrowstone Island

It was tough to leave San Juan and the fantastic hospitality of Tim and Di but with Mainland USA calling and the bright lights of Seattle, it was time to be on the move again.

A ferry to Annacortes and the Deception Pass bridge was first up. In general bridges are the stuff of nightmares for bicyclists, usually built for cars with no consideration for other users you can often face the prospect of speeding motorists on one side and a nice barrier followed by a long drop on the other. They do however often provide beautiful vantage points too, and Deception Pass definitively fell into that category.

And thankfully on this occasion the crossing was easy enough too.

Heading south another ferry took us to Port Townsend, and having not eaten all day we broke our “no Mexican food till Mexico” rule, inhaling the offering in front of us!

Time stamps on these photos - 17:16 & 17:22.

Our evening destination: Marrowstone Island. The home of family friend George Dennison, who turned up at my parent’s home in Scotland some 15 years ago, having walked for several hours to get there, and asked to take a look around as it had been his ancient Scottish ancestor’s. Mum being mum invited him in and got chatting. Now in his 90s with his adventurous spirit still undiminished meant missing out on seeing him again as he was taking a trip to Mexico, however we had the pleasure of being hosted by his stepson Steve.

Our first “dive bar” provided the evening entertainment. Fried food, beer, and the joy of shelling peanuts, then sweeping them from the bar through a purpose built gap and onto the floor, which gave a satisfying crunch as you walked on it.

Returning to our cottage (built by Steve aged 16), the Laphroiag flowing, another quintessential American first, 2nd amendment rights!

*warning, divisive political subject below*

Just the previous night, in light of the terrible events in Las Vegas, we had debated the (in the group’s opinion) absurdity of gun ownership laws with our previous hosts. Now we found ourselves on the other side of the debate.

I should point out a few things here. 1) Steve’s collection mostly consists of hunting rifles 2) He is a well trained marksman and 3) Willing to debate the subject without just blindly shouting “2nd amendment” at you. As such it wasn’t your stereotypical endless loop of American Freedom, protection and Constitutional rights but it did serve as a stark reminder that you’re probably walking (or cycling) past someone carrying a gun all the time.

Steve loved guns, from the revolver that had been with him the whole evening, to the antique collection of beautifully crafted hunting rifles. He was clearly extremely knowledgable and was well trained in the use and care of his weapons. I have no problem with people wanting to collect and maintain guns in a sensible fashion, I know plenty of people in the UK who do the same.

However he had also just sat on the jury for a trial where a man had fired “spray and pray” with a semi-automatic at another (unarmed) man who was lost and had stoped at his property to ask for directions. Not that the assailant knew that as he took the fire first ask questions later approach. Steve’s opinion was that the guy was guilty and shouldn’t be allowed to own the guns, but surprisingly (or perhaps not) the law was actually on the side of the guy with the gun!

A particularly disturbing story given Joe and I had very nearly knocked on a strangers door earlier that day when looking for Steve’s property. Needless to say we haven’t thought about doing that again!

One of the more surreal evenings drew to a close as I slowly fell asleep, whisky in one hand, Steve opposite with hunting rifle across his lap.

The best thing about a musket; it gives you a lot of time to calm down - Jim Jeffries

To close out this topic, my thoughts are best summed up by Jim Jeffries

In summary, if you like guns, and are actually trained to use them, then fair enough. But, and it’s a big but, there are way to many BS arguments, not enough checks to make sure you know what you’re doing / aren’t crazy, people who are unwilling to even have a debate, and finally, surely there is absolutely no need to own an fully automatic?

The Cabin that Steve built. I was still struggling to make my bed at 16 (still learning!) let alone build a cabin to put one in.

Thursday October 12th 2017 Tour Day 13 Cycle Day 8: Marrowstone Island to Seattle

Looking forward to our next rest day, we set off early for Seattle. More busy roads and the first of “Manby’s Mechanicals” when a rather large nail decided to get in the way of my back tyre.

I wonder what did it?

Puncture repaired and another ferry caught, a long ride from Edmonds through the vast northern Seattle Suburbs meant we were more than happy to arrive at our destination after a necessary pit stop for 20 McNuggets to get us there! Our awesome hosts for the next two nights; new Seattle residents Lou, a long time family friend and her husband Nick. Showered up the first stop was our second dive bar of the trip followed by a great Thai. A quick night cap back at the Eastlake Zoo resulted in one of the more interesting purchases of the tour. Joe, determined to find himself some speedos for Mexico, thought he’d found a bargain. $10, a pickled sausage and some budgie smugglers.

It wasn’t till the next morning he realised he’d in fact purchased himself some lovely hot-pants!

Hoping these don’t make an appearance on the beach.

Well fed and well tired we stumbled to bed looking forward to playing tourist the next day.

Friday October 13th 2017 Tour Day 14 Rest Day 2

The first stop for any tourist in Seattle? Where else but one of the most iconic and distinctive elements of any cityscape; the Space Needle. Supposedly there are better views to be had from the taller skyscrapers it faces but lets be honest, if you’re in Seattle for 1 day only, you’re going to ascend the 160 metres to the observation deck and take it in.

Tourist checkpoint complete, Joe was particularly keen to check out the library(!?!) and to be fair it is actually a very interesting architectural structure, both inside out with one entirely red (and disorientating) floor.

Feeling peckish it was over to Pike’s Place Market, home of the original Starbucks (which was avoided due to it a) being a Starbucks and b) queues round the corner with a deserted new Starbucks within sight of it). There was plenty on offer in the hustle and bustle, including a piano playing fisherman:

Playing with Fish(y) Fingers?

We settled on the “World Famous” (almost every establishment in America seems to be such) Beecher’s Homemade Cheese, where they did indeed make cheese, but given that no one lives there and the vast machines producing it I’m not sure how it is homemade. Anyway the guidebooks will recommend the Mac & Cheese, and the Mac & Cheese was duly ordered. It was OK. I like to think of myself as a bit of a Mac&C aficionado, and while it was certainly good it wasn’t mind blowing which for something that was “world famous” peeved us. Then again what can you expect from a country where the majority of the time only two types of cheese exist: American and Swiss!

CHEEEEEEEEEESE!

Ground Zero for the bad coffee everywhere epidemic.

Fed and watered it was time for some more culture, and ever since I had seen this in my Lonely Planet there was only one place I wanted to go.

The Experience Music Project (now the Museum of Pop Culture), with exhibitions on SciFi, Star Trek, Jim Henson, David Bowie, Jimi Hendrix, and more it was epic. Or it would have been had we not completely lost track of time. Arriving around 3pm and starting in the first section we got to, SciFi I was just battling my way out of Star Trek and making a beeline for Jimi when... “Sir, please can you make your way to the exit”... 5pm had sneaked up on us. A little annoyed at paying $50 for only 2hrs, what we considered a very early closing time, and our own stupidity at not checking said closing time, the cherry on the cake was the “late night at the museum” complete with bar was back in the SciFi section!! We got our own back though as Joe stole a handful of marshmallows from the bar on the way out.

Who you going to call?

Extreme danger of being exterminated, until you find a staircase.

“I’ll be back” so I can check out Jimi! 

Wandering up Capitol Hill with the sun setting we took in the Space Needle from the top over beers before meandering our way back for dinner and the promise of ginormous pizzas and one of the best views of Seattle at night.

With 8000 calories a day being burnt, it’s fair to say our appetites have skyrocketed. The promise of the largest pizzas we had ever seen was delivered and then some at Frēlard Pizza. Feeling ambitious and going against the advice of our hosts and waitress we both ordered a 24” each, Joe going for a 1/2 carbonara, 1/2 Full Hog and myself taking on a 1/2 Full Hog, 1/2 Staple and Fancy.

I raced into an early lead, and with only 1 slice to go, Joe still had 1/2 his to go. But it was the case of slow and steady wins the race, and while I decided on “saving” the final slice for the morning, Joe finished it all much to the amazement of our waitress and discomfort of his stomach. There’s always room for ice cream right? We decided to find out and in total gluttony ordered American sized tubs. Back at the Brooks, no longer able to move I slipped into a satisfied food coma.

Saturday October 14th 2017 Tour Day 15 Cycle Day 10: Seattle to Riverbend

Up early, our hosts setting off for an anniversary hike (happy anniversary guys!), we made our way south, past Pike’s Place and out of town on quiet and easy cycle paths. 

Lou and Nick.

Taking the ferry from Fauntleroy to Vashon Island it was time for our final island and penultimate ferry. Vashon is another popular cycle spot, with quiet roads, pretty towns, and one of the toughest starts to a ride at the exit of the north ferry terminal - a nice 10% that levels off halfway, tricking you into thinking that it’s done with you, only to carry on round the corner at the same lovely gradient!

The other side of Vashon and back on the mainland having said goodbye to our 13th and final ferry we made our way through Tacoma and ended the day at Riverbend RV campsite just east of state capital Olympia. Checking in we met Chad, inviting us to join him and his partner Anastasia for a few drinks later...

Both wine merchants, a few turned into many and before we knew it the topic of Trump was again circling the campfire. This is where possibly one of my favourite ideas ever was brought up. “C*cksucker Camp” Chad suddenly and enthusiastically exclaimed. Intrigued, as (most likely due to the wine) the name came before the explanation at the mention of Trump, I enquired further.

In a nutshell, Trump and other such men would be sent to a camp, surrounded by sycophants and other “amenities” to be kept in a stupor of satisfaction that they are the greatest, leaving the rest of the world to get on with life absent of such egotistical numpties. Either intentionally or by accident the name also works on multiple levels as not only an insulting description for the men sent there, but also the main amenity on offer to keep them happy. In any case an RV park in the middle of Washington was the last place I expected to hear such an inspired idea.

Not long after this, Joe and I decided that the best idea was bed and slid off into the darkness to find our tent.

Camping RV style.

Sunday October 15th 2017 Tour Day 16 Cycle Day 11: Riverbend to Aberdeen

A brief morning ride found us in Olympia Coffee, in the pleasant looking town that was our 2nd surprise state capital following Victoria.

Caffeined up, the unremarkable ride along another highway (further punishment for our detour to Seattle) was only broken by a serendipitous whim to take a looping road I spotted on my Garmin called Summit Lake. Place/road names on the trip so far seem to fall into the category of either a description or somewhere in Scotland and this happily fell very much into the former, taking us from the monotony of highway shoulder to a beautiful town surrounding a lake. Some more luck followed when looking for public access we met Sharron tending her garden who offered us her pontoon as a fine spot to enjoy our lunchtime sandwiches. It certainly beat the inside of a Subway.

Refuelled, we set sights on the latter naming convention. Aberdeen had been on my list of places to go from near the beginning of planning this trip. Not just due to going to school near the original but also being the birthplace of Kurt Cobain. I can’t claim to have been an original Nirvana fan, but ever since I was given an album as an early teenager (is there a more appropriate age to start listening to Nirvana?) I’ve always had a soft spot for them.

“Come as you are”.

Aberdeen also meant our first Warm Showers. Yes we had had a shower in all this time, this warm showers is an online cycling community / app, similar to Couchsurfing, that is something like a free AirBnB for cyclists provided by other cyclists. Having only just heard about it before the trip, it is genius! Hosts basically offer anything from a spot on their lawn for a tent to a spare bed or something in between in addition to a warm shower as the name suggests.

Lauri was our first host, and an excellent introduction to this wonderful sub-community. Moving to Aberdeen for work, she enjoyed the great cycling on her doorstep, the Olympic Peninsula to the north and down the coast to Oregon. Bringing along a bottle of wine, we shared a takeaway Pizza and enjoyed discussing cycle touring. We also got to stick pins in the world map, and with Joe going for Lewes, I decided to be the first “Scot” and stick mine just north of Glasgow.

Monday October 16th 2017 Tour Day 17 Cycle Day 12: Aberdeen to Astoria

We woke to a heavy fog and the forecast looked like this might be our last day of sunshine for a while, which given the time of year wasn’t surprising. In fact we’d been extremely lucky not to have had any bad weather, save for the local geography induced soak on Orcas, so far. 

Our first Warm Showers Host Lauri.

After an excellent breakfast at one of Lauri’s local spots, a quick tour of Aberdeen ensued to find Kurt’s monument, situated by the bridge Kurt used to sit under and write songs which traversed the kindly named Wishkah River, an adaption of the Chehalis Indian word hwish-kahl, meaning stinking water. You can get a sense why there was so much angst in his songs!

Rebelling like Kurt would.

Aberdeen itself, a former logging town, suffering depression as the industry has declined was greeted universally with surprise and derision when brought up as a stop on my trip by those who knew of it along the way. 

You can get a sense of how these forgotten towns across America were desperate for something new in Washington DC, the promise of industry returning and a break from the establishment. Sadly I don’t see Trump delivering for these people.

Despite all this I actually quiet liked what I saw of Aberdeen and can see it becoming a tourist hub for the outdoors with great access to the Olympic Peninsula or with cheap property, potentially even a new startup hub between Seattle, Portland and Silicon Valley if the local officials get their act together.

A post shared by Kit MacInnes-Manby (@cycling_pacific) on Oct 16, 2017 at 8:26am PDT

Foggy start.

Initially we had a shortish ride in mind to the KOA campsite in Bay Centre. However arriving in South Bend just before 1pm a quick decision was made to get as far south as possible to make the most of the good weather as it was turning into a beautiful day. Astoria was the next logical place and with another warm showers host arranged we took a look at the route.

Lauri had given us one big piece of advice, do not cross the Astoria-Megler Bridge which takes you over the Columbia river out of Washington and into Oregon. It’s long at over 4 miles / 6.5km, looks fearsome with a flat first half followed by a nice mile long 5% clime, has almost no shoulder, and the cars speed along at 70mph. The advice was to head to Ilwaco where for 50c a bus could be caught over the bridge. The issue was, we were still 45miles away and the last bus was at 4.10pm. This gave us just over three hours, which for those of you good at math(s) meant averaging 15mph for 3 hours straight. On an unloaded road bike, no problem. On a fully loaded tourer, this meant hitting near enough our max flat road speed and maintaining it. Throw in a headwind for the first hour and it was huge challenge. Somehow, after sitting in the red for longer than one should when supposedly touring we rolled into town at 4pm. A bus went past us as we entered, but unconcerned we headed to the stop expecting to have more than enough time in hand.

Waiting around the bus stop, 4.10 then 4.20 came and went. A local informed us that the buses are not that reliable and the one we saw was probably it. Brilliant. Thanks bus driver who clearly had Friday beers on his mind rather than sticking to schedule. I still have a mind to write a strongly worded email to the Washington department of transport! To add insult to injury, we were looking out over Cape Disappointment.

It’s amazing how much a beer in the sun with a view can lift the spirits. We’d also picked up Alejandro as we’d ridden into Ilwaco, our second cycle tourist we’d met heading down the coast (we’d bumped into a couple of Italians in South Bend). Alejandro was from Chile, this was his first trip outside of his home country and he’d saved up for 4 years to do it! He was on a big loop from Denver up to Seattle and then down the coast to Newport. He’d also had his bike stolen from him after being forced to lock it up outside overnight which served as a  warning to us to add to all the others of touring bike theft woe. Luckily for him he’d managed to pick up another bike cheaply on Craig’s list and carried on undeterred.

Rehydration and sun can make you feel a lot better.

Pit stop over the three of us set off on what turned out to be a very scenic ride to Astoria, save for a horrible tunnel, and of course that bridge. Tunnels, our first, are tricky to navigate as cars can’t see you and the back draft from passing vehicles are extremely unpleasant. Joe found this out as a truck went past causing him to swerve into the wall and pick up a nasty graze.

With just the bridge between us and our destination the convoy nervously met at the start to assess. With no other option, it was ride across or go on a 60mile diversion to find another crossing. The first flat two miles with a shoulder less than 0.5m wide, cars screaming and beeping past. The last two miles, a 5% gradient up to the apex and then a helter skelter decent into Astoria. Unpleasant is an understatement but with the sun setting the views were also incredible.

Safely on the other side - Alejandro and “that” bridge.

Adrenaline still pumping we arrived, a new appreciation for life, a stiff drink and food required. Enjoying the largest Nachos I’ve ever seen, we chatted and found out that Alejandro had learnt all of his English through video games and American TV! According to my dad, all I ever got out of those was brain rot. Our host home earlier than expected and only 2 blocks away we set off for our second warm showers, but that, and our adventures in Oregon, are stories for another time...

I said I would if the donations rolled in, and didn’t you guys deliver!

A massive thank you to Liz Wilkinson, Andy Collie, Will Spence, Ed Pragnell, Tom Stock, Charles and Nicky Manby, Jenna Pollock, Ishbel M-M, Randy and the Boys in Crescent City, Miriam and Debbie, and the woman in the used book store who have all made donations since we increased our target. We have now reached our stretch target which is just phenomenal! We really can’t believe it, you are all awesome!

So, we’re cycling over 2,000miles, we’ve got the moustaches going, and now...

The calm before the storm.

Tin foil hat time. Keeping those ailiens out.

Do blonds have more fun? I don’t think they have enough fun tbh..

Featuring go faster stripes and Alzheimer’s purple I’m very happy with the results, it’s way more than I thought I was going to do but I couldn’t care less.

Big thank you to Alexis and Gabby at Cinta Aveda in San Francisco for letting their creative sides flow and sorting this out!

A post shared by Lexy Ruff (@lexy_cintaaveda_) on Nov 10, 2017 at 1:48pm PST

Maybe I could get use to having purple hair...

P.s. Just because we hit our target shouldn’t stop you if you still want to:

So as promised we thought we’d up the ante for donations by doing our own version of Movember.

Having not shaved since Vancouver our beards were getting a little out of control and so, even if it is cheating a little, we’ve shaved it all off leaving some ridiculous mos…

We’ll keep these things going to Mexico so keep those donations rolling in!

And as if that’s not enough, if we get another £100 before we leave San Francisco next weekend, I’ll get some sort of ridiculous haircut to match!

https://mydonate.bt.com/fundraisers/pacificcoastcycle

And as if that isn’t all enough, I’ll be bringing you up-to-date on what we’ve been up to since leaving BC shortly…

Distance Cycled: 412km (256miles) Distance Climbed: 4,282m (14,049ft)

Joe and I have been blown away by the friendliness and hospitality of those we’ve met in British Columbia. Perhaps we’re used to the coldness of Londoners and the eyes down, avoid all conversation mentality of public transport there. 

We found almost everyone to be extremely welcoming, willing to strike up a conversation or just say hello without becoming overly intrusive. If however you do engage you can find yourself discussing diverse topics from politics to a British favourite; the weather.

Perhaps we look slightly lost or disheveled and people take pity, perhaps it has something to do with our Alzheimer’s Society cycling tops, or more likely, perhaps people are just really nice when you stop and take the time to talk to them. It also helps that Joe is much more inclined than I to just ask the nearest person while I’m trying to make sense of my Garmin or map. This usually results in a range of good advice to extreme generosity.

A big thank you to Bill and Shelly, Rosemary, Barry and Phyllis, Sam and Kathy, Tim and Diana, for their help and all the other people who stoped to talk or offer encouragement/advice.

Tuesday October 3rd 2017 Tour Day 4 Cycle Day 1: Vancouver to Porpoise Bay

Our introduction to Canada couldn’t have got off to a better start. Through pure chance (and the fact that their house was walking distance to our bike shop) we spent the first 3 nights in Vancouver at Bill and Shelly’s AirBnB. One of the nicest couples you could meet, upon discovering that we required an extra evening than originally planed to take in some bike mechanic lessons, they extended their own spare bedroom to us as the basement apartment was booked. They also extended an invited to dinner that evening (incredible lamb burgers), the perfect last super before disembarking. Our luck continued as this meant we met Sam, a neighbour who now spends most of his time on Denman Island, but happened to be in town. He almost immediately offered a place to stay should we make the small detour off Vancouver Island.

The Last Supper: Bill, Sam, and Shelly.

Not done, the following morning Shelly cooked us breakfast to see us on our way, including some homemade Kombucha, a South Korean fermented drink, both delicious and healthy! Perhaps a pop up in London to follow…

Setting off there was some adjustment to getting used to the weight of all the gear hanging off the bikes, which at first felt like our nimble bikes had turned into oil tankers.

First day smiles.

We’d not even made it out of Vancouver when at Prospect Point, just prior to crossing Lions Gate bridge we stoped for a quick photo opp. Here we got chatting to a British woman named Rosemary Angil. It turned out that her mother in law had recently died having suffered from Alzheimer’s. She asked for our details and when we next had Wi-Fi discovered she’d made a significant donation. Thank you Rosemary!

A post shared by Kit MacInnes-Manby (@kitty_magic) on Oct 4, 2017 at 8:06pm PDT

Prospect Point - Leaving Vancouver.

As a brief aside, a big thank you to all of you who have also donated, I’ll be thanking you all in person when I get the chance.

Spirits high we set off and enjoyed a scenic ride though West Vancouver, stumbling across Gleneagles Golf Course along the way up to Horseshoe Bay.

Much easier to get a tee time here.

Having arrived 7 minutes too late for the midday ferry, with bright sunshine and glorious bay views we begrudgingly settled into a burger and pint to toast our first 1% of the trip.

The 2.15 ferry was waiting, at the dock another cyclist told us where to wait. We waited, and waited some more, when 2.13 struck, we decide to double check… Turns out we were in the wrong loading bay and had just missed it again! 4.30 was the next one, which while annoying didn’t appear too bad as the sun was still shining and the park looked appealing.

This extended delay also gave me the opportunity to talk to two backpackers who spend their time crossing the country for work. They were selling dried sage, lavender, and other herbs which I exchanged for the cost of a ferry ticket so they could get home. He told me something about the spirituality of what I was doing and it would help take my energy with me… …I’m not sure about all that but it has kept my clothes smelling nice and fresh so I take that as a win!

BC - Many ferries, which are ideal at breaking up rides and meeting new people.

Finally on the ferry and off the other side we faced a not too daunting 25km ride to Porpoise Bay. As is typical of a ferry exit we were met with an immediate and steep climb, however I’ve thus found that this serves the purpose of warming up the legs again. The final stretch seemed fine until we got to Sechelt just as the sun was setting.

Which while beautiful meant cycling the last few km in the dark. Secondly we both began to “bonk” as we clearly hadn’t been fuelling ourselves enough. This resulted in a somewhat unpleasant short in distance but long in mind final 30mins.

Things got worse as having successfully got the tent up in the dark, with dinner on the go, a park ranger turned up and informed us that we were not in the designated camping area. This designated area was a whopping 25m from where we were. Despite not a single other person being there (nor did we see one before we set off) we were forced to decamp and move. All in all not the best end to our first day on the road.

Wednesday October 4th 2017 Tour Day 5 Cycle Day 2: Porpoise Bay to Lang Bay

Another beautiful morning and Joe’s porridge later we set off continuing on the aptly named “Sunshine Coast”.

The views from Porpoise Bay.

We set off with the initial goal of Powel River but it turns out the Sunshine Coast while sunny, is rather lumpy. Joe quickly established himself as KOM taking all the mountain points, dancing up hills like a mountain goat. We made it to Madeira Park at which point we were both thinking that we may have been slightly naive in how easy it would be to cycle fully loaded bikes 2000 miles.

Alarm bells should have been ringing when my check in luggage was 20kg (without my rather considerable camera gear as carry on). Add to this the 14kg bikes (the price of robustness) and my own weight and you’re looking at somewhere between 110-120kg, or one Ed “Chunk” Monkley that I’ve got to lug up every hill!

Ed in his natural habitat.

(I’ve since weighed myself at a truck stop which came out at 300lbs equating to 136kg - however this was probably rounded to the nearest 50lbs)

The slogan quickly became what goes down must go up. As much as it was fun to carry large momentum down hills (and at times break the speed limit) it was almost always not worth it for the inevitable hill shortly afterwards.

It is also where we named out bikes. My steed has been dubbed Shirly the Surly, as I ask her at the bottom of each hill “Shirly, you can’t be serious”. Joe has named his Susan, as he’s “cuzin on suzin”.

Madeira Park offered a delicious pizza from a guy who had sacked off his consulting job that took him all over North America, to make pizza in this small and scenic corner of the world. With slightly tempered ambitions of Saltery Bay instead of Powel River we set off.

Pizza 🍕

It was on the Ferry from Earls Cove to Saltery Bay that we got chatting to Phyllis. When we told her what we were up to she told us about her own travels in Europe, including one evening spent in a park with her friend and a Scott (complete with Kilt) after their bags were stollen holding passports and traveler’s cheques. Having experienced her own share of stranger’s kindness along the way she insisted on putting us up.

Joe and I duly obliged and arrived to meet Phyllis and her husband Barry, where we were treated to our own lodge! After a quick swim in the bay to ease our aching legs we whiled away the evening hours over a few beers with our hosts before retiring to the lodge. Joe initially only making it as far as the sofa for bed.

Ice therapy.

Barry and Phyllis.

Thursday October 5th 2017 Tour Day 6 Cycle Day 3: Lang Bay to Denman Island (Part 1 | Part 2)

Joe whipped up some more pancakes for breakfast and after saying our goodbyes, feeling greatly refreshed we set our sites on Denman Island and our invitation to Sam’s. We were treated to some of the most scenic riding so far as the trees thinned out on the way to Powell River.

With about an hour to kill Joe popped into a secondhand bookstore (he picked up something roman as he’s predisposed to do) and walked out with another $5 donation to the cause. I made a brief trip to the bike shop as I’d adjusted my gears terribly and hadn’t been able to access many of them since Earl’s Cove. A quick pit stop at a local recommendation; Base Camp Coffee and it was onto the ferry.

Somewhere around here we reached our most northern point and the true start of our journey south. One would be tempted to think that it is all down hill from here. One would be wrong.

Knowing that Sam was out until late we took a bit of time to explore the coast line of Comox and stumbled upon another coffee stop (fuel of the cyclist) at Grind where we found an epic whey protein, peanut butter, banana milkshake which served as an excellent lunch and another fine view.

A casual and yet more scenic ride down to Denman Island ensued and ended by encountering a salmon roll while waiting for the ferry (think sausage roll). Sadly I would miss the following day’s offering of salmon wellington!

Felling somewhat tired we were pleased to discover a local vineyard en route and having never even heard of BC wine thought it rude not to.

Corlan Vineyard has been running for about 10 years now and has some delicious wines. Not that you can go out and buy any as it’s exclusively sold at the farm shop. We tried the red Marechal Foch (French / American hybrid) and the white Ortega. Sadly the blackberry and Sigerrebe wines were sold out but Pat the owner allowed us to go and pick some of the remaining blackberries from this year’s harvest to taste. I had to taste quite a few to make sure each one was as tasty as the last.

A bottle of red purchased it was on to Sam’s and we arrived to a fairy light lit wood cabin. Sam’s wife Kathy was just putting the finishing touches on some freshly made pizzas, topped with local produce, some of which came from their own garden. It’s tough to beat a welcome like that.

Sam and Kathy

Friday October 6th 2017 Tour Day 7 Cycle Day 4: Denman Island to Chemainus River Campsite

Following another great evening we made an early start for our longest ride yet - 140km.

Perhaps over confident from the previous day’s riding and the last 4 days good weather we set ourselves the ambition of Ladysmith or as far south as we could get. The first signs were encouraging as we fairly deleted kilometres, after 2h30 seeing off 60km along pleasurable flat costal roads. Stoping in a (don’t judge) McDonalds for a quick coffee and some wifi at Parksville we looked back with pride and thought we’d smash the next 60km in similar fashion. Oh hubris.

The following 60km were nothing like the first. The costal route gave way to highway 19 with no obvious alternative. The first rain of the trip descended and we spend what seemed like an age going up gradual gradients on small highway shoulders with 18 wheelers for company.

Highways - Fun.

Nanaimo has become a name etched in infamy for us as it seemed to stretch on forever and Ladysmith seemed to be forever just the other side. Some bike paths did appear but they were either so hilly or perturbed by tree routes as to be impractical. So much so that my tent decided it had had enough and got off the ride with my shoe subsequently attempting suicide to stop the torment.

Goodbye cruel world.

Ladysmith eventually arrived, food and warmth on the agenda. Wigwam Chinese seemed perfect, as it was the first restaurant we found.

Large quantities of Chinese later, with it still fairly early in the day, feeling much better for ourselves we pressed on south to Chemainus Campsite, offering much needed warm showers, a camp fire and what is becoming Joe’s trip speciality; cheesy pasta mixed with whatever we’ve managed to find that day.

Saturday October 7th 2017 Tour Day 8 Cycle Day 5: Chemainus Campsite to Victoria

Looking forward to our first rest day in Victoria it was a short ride to the Salt Spring Island ferry. The local coffee stop provided the next chance meeting. Tim, an absolute legend, who in his 71st year is still peddling around when he can. We talked the perils of leaving your bike unattended, the virtues of a helmet mirror (which we’ve finally purchased in Portland), and the joys of touring in general. Tim has cycled all over the North America and Europe, including two trips down the North Pacific Coast! What’s more he is a resident of one of the US’ best cycle spots; the San Juan Islands. Once Tim found out we were headed that way he insisted on having us to stay, another awesome act of generosity.

Fellow tourer and awesome human Tim.

Salt Spring Island itself is a lovely ride. Quiet roads, rolling hills and plenty of interesting stops. However It was described to me as the Hamptons of Vancouver so not without its downsides. This was confirmed at the local Saturday market where someone attempted to sell us kale crisps at $9/100g…

Checking out the local market.

Another ferry the other side into Swartz Bay to pick up the Lochside trail (the Scotts get everywhere) all the way into Victoria.

This essentially ended our British Columbia riding. BC had been a blast but also eye opening as to the scale of what we were taking on. I had expected this part of the trip to feel more like being out in the wilderness, however the roads and other infrastructure were excellent, which while convenient, was slightly disappointing (only very slightly). I guess I have to hand it to the Canadian government for managing to tame such rugged terrain, coming from BT I know we can’t even get decent broadband to some parts of London let alone the Outer Hebrides.

And Finally