Day 93: Behold Portland; $2 Pints and a Ton of Bikes.

***I am typing this entry, whilst sitting in a hostel living room next to two guys discussing film. They clearly have no idea of what they speak. Their opinions are silly and obvious. It is really distracting, and so I put on headphones, but nonetheless my concentration is affected. Oh dear… now they’re discussing The Pixies. I can’t hardly stand it! Please forgive me if there are a lot more errors than usual. My head is elsewhere. ***

I wake up and watch some TV. This might be my favorite thing in the world, the ability to wake up without any sort of time constraint, and to just lie in bed until the TV becomes less interesting than the idea of what might be outside the front door. Made breakfast in the motel room and watched the news.

Leaving Longview is a pretty terrifying way to start the day. I approach the Columbia River, which divides Oregon and Washington, and with every passing block the smell of the pulp mills becames more and more unbearable. By the time I reach The Lewis and Clarke Bridge, it is really hard to stomach. I have a childhood memory of crossing into Oregon on this bridge and wondering why anyone would ever want to live in such a foul-smelling state. The bridge is one of the scarier moments of riding these past 3 months. Logging trucks whiz by at incredibly high speeds while I slowly ride along the bridge’s narrow shoulder hundreds of feet in the air. To make matters worse, the shoulder is completely covered in a thick layer of bark from the felled trees being transported on the logging trucks. Mixed in with the bark is a ridiculous amount of glass. Like someone had smashed a few dozen tall-boys on the bridge that very morning. I get off my bike to walk it across the glass-strew surface, but this also feels very unsafe, and so I just ride across and accept the idea of getting a flat tire at some point today.

The Longview stench lingered until a little ways south of Ranier, OR… Oh yeah…. I’m in Oregon now!

The ride this morning is fantastic. This STP route really is quite nice; a perfect blend of hills, descents, frustration and fun. I stop at McDonalds for Breakfast at about the halfway point for the day. I’m starting to get nostalgic, and I do everything a bit slower and more deliberate than usual. After breakfast I have a sit and do some thinking.

Tonight I will be staying with Mike R. of Team Northern Tier 2007, and a few days back he left me a voicemail telling me to call him when I was 15 miles outside of town, so he could meet me on the road and ride with me back to his place. I remember to do this about 10 miles outside of the city, and decide to wait until the next gas station. Before I get the chance to call, my back tire goes really flat, and really fast. The hole in the tube is huge, and I can’t find any glass or sharp object imbedded in the tire. For all of those who don’t know… this can be one of the most irritating things on the planet.

You pull off the panniers, flip the bike upside down, pull of the wheel, pull the tire from the wheel, remove the tube, patch the tube, check to see what caused the puncture, remove item if one is found, Reinsert the tube, Put the tire back in place, and Reinflate. Some people are very fast at doing this; I am not. So it is really irritating to get back on the bike, only to have it go flat again within the first 2 minutes. This usually signals that the patch-job was bad, or I somehow missed the object imbedded in the tire.

LUCKILY… the patch held, and the tire did not go flat. But I did take notice of how “out of true” the wheel was. I can’t wait to fix this bike up in Los Angeles. I’m gonna take a whole weekend to work on every tiny thing. It’ll feel great.

About 5 miles outside of the city I start riding behind some young indie girl, and decide that since I don’t know where I should be going once inside the city, I will follow her and hopefully she will lead me to where the twentysomethings congregate. 30 minutes later I am in the NW section of town and I have NEVER seen so many cyclists in my entire life. It’s amazing. I stop at a coffee shop to check email, and they are playing AMNESIAC (Radiohead LP5). It really does seem like a cool town.

When Mike gets off work, I meet him a few blocks over, and we ride back to his place in SE Portland. It’s a fun ride along some nice streets, and the high concentration of cyclists continues. He lives in a really nice house on a quiet residential block, with a GIGANTIC dog. I kick myself for not taking any pictures of Mike, the house, or the dog. I drop off my things and we ride over to a friend’s house to meet Jamie (also of TNT2007). Jamie is asleep, so we just hit up a pub with $2 pints and a TON of bikes locked up out front. It’s good to share stories of the trail, and compare experiences. Also to hear first-hand accounts of stuff I had only read on his blog. Often times the reality isn’t quite what I had first imagined upon reading the text.

Today was a really good day; one of the best in recent memory. At first glance, Portland is really great. Riding home from the pub on quiet city streets lined with old and interesting houses. I gotta remember to thank Mike for letting me stay in his home, and for showing me around a bit. I feel very lucky to be here in Portland for this week, and at this point in my life.