The Mo Mo Tour: Day 18 continued – That’s a Wrap

I went to the rental car place as soon as it opened. They did not have the SUV I reserved. Instead I settled for a white Dodge Charger. I was prepared to drive to WalMart up the hill to buy a bike rack if necessary but the Charger’s back seats folded down giving me room for The Mule and all my stuff. Impressive. (Note: I did have to take off the front wheel and lower my seat.)

The drive to Berea went on a parkway west to London and north to Berea on an interstate. It took about two hours because, despite my sporty car, my brain had been dealing with 3 to 35 miles per hour for over two weeks. Big trucks were zooming past me as I puttered along.

The terrain was very mountainous until I arrived at Berea (the second “e” is long). It was like someone threw a big geological switch; the town was basically flat.

The drive gave me time to think. The original point of this tour was for me to complete the eastern third of the TransAm. I had already bypassed 20 miles of it from Hindman to Hazard. Now I had blown off roughly 110 more in the car.

Most journals I read were all dated five or more years ago They made it sound like the dog problem was no big deal but the eastbound rider I met at the Cookie Lady’s house was still stressed out about his dog experiences in Kentucky over a week later. The hostel contact in Booneville sounded downright scary. The rental agency person in Hazard had all kinds of tales about indifferent dog (and pony!) owners. Owners who don’t neuter their animals so when the puppies get big enough they turn them loose in the woods. A person in Berea told me that Booneville is near an old coal mining area. Since strip mines have taken over, these old coal mining families are screwed and bitter.

(Another thought about doing chemical warfare with loose dogs: I have ridden past a half dozen gun shops, most of which displayed signs advertising AR-15 style semi automatic weapons. Gulp. My wife’s uncle Terry lives in southern West Virginia. When you drive onto his property there is a sign that say’s “You are in range.” Terry’s a pretty funny guy but I’m not entire sure he’s joking. And he isn’t economically distressed like these Kentucky folks. (I’m pretty sure Terry doesn’t have an AR-15 but

So I get to Berea and I have a choice. Do I continue on by bike in a totally stressed out mental state? I took two Advil PMs last night and still didn’t sleep a wink. I am physically and mentally exhausted. The dog problem is supposedly no big deal west of Berea but I really, really, really do not want to deal with them anymore. It was time to call it a tour and head home.

So I investigated my options. I can fly for free on Southwest with credit card points so I checked to see where the nearest airport was on Southwest’s route system. It was Louisville, about 160 miles by bike. Not gonna happen. I called U-Haul in Berea. They only had a 15-foot truck which would have cost over $500. Nope. However, the U-Haul guy said to talk to the car rental agency in Berea. Maybe there was something we could work out.

So I went to the car rental agency and talked with Chelsea, a very intelligent and personable person. She said it was indeed possible to do a one-way rental. All she had to do was talk to someone up the corporate food chain. That person freed up her software to allow her access to interstate one-way rentals. So we closed out my rental agreement from Hazard and opened a new one. Recognizing that I had been needlessly charged for the Hazard to Berea rental, she marked down the price of my trip from Berea to home. Chelsea is the best,

So for the cost of having someone pack and ship my bike, I hit the road in a sports car, driving over 500 miles from Kentucky to home. Google Maps has a sense of humor. It routed me through central West Virginia on two-lane mountain roads for about an hour.

Now that I’ve had a day to mull it over, I can’t exactly call this a failure. After all, I did end up riding 840 miles which is more miles than my 2000, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2015, and 2016 tours.

That said, I have to admit that my last two tours have been a mental challenge for me. I love the riding parts of the tours. I won’t soon forget the fantastic ride to Damascus on this tour, for example. But I can really live without church hostels, campgrounds, Warmshowers homes, hotels, lousy GSCS food, etc. As my toddler son used to say over 25 years ago, “I want to go home. I want to sleep in my own bed.”

My advice to anyone who is planning to do the TransAm is: don’t. It’s glory days are long gone. The dog situation in Kentucky is just one example. Many of the towns in Kansas on the route are virtual ghost towns. The traffic in eastern Oregon is godawful. The legendary bike accommodations in Guffey CO are dreadful.

When the TransAm was designed in the mid-1970s, touring bikes were heavy and had ten-speeds and only rear racks. I can’t imagine how the first riders did the whole 4,000+ miles. (A friend who participated in Bikecentennial, the 1976 event for which the TransAm was established said that she was doing fine until Kentucky. Her knees were trashed when she finally left the Appalachians.

There is a new alternative to the eastern half of the TransAm. The Eastern Express goes from DC to Colorado in a more or less straight line. It was designed specifically to avoid the dogs and hills of Appalachia and the Ozarks. Or design your own route as I did in 2018.

And for a two-week tour, Yorktown to Damascus isn’t bad idea.

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 17 – Hindman to Hazard area

I neglected to mention an interaction with three old guys at a filling station. I stopped to buy a cold drink but this was an old fashioned filling station. Just car repairs and gas. The old men spoke mountain English. Fortunately I could understand most of what they said. “There’s a Faniky Dollar just up the road.”!one of them got up and fetched a cold bottle of water from his pickup and poured it into my empty bike bottle. Nice guy.

I should also mention the ten-year-old boy who helped me take my things up the stairs to the hostel.

I hung out in the hostel playing word games on my phone and trying not to think of steep hills and aggressive dogs. I skipped breakfast because mass quantities of pizza were still working their way through my tummy.

The hostel room is up some stairs from the street so it took some time to get started. I hit the road around 9:30. Two miles later I came upon this.

A bridge was being replaced. This area of Kentucky was devastated by severe flooding in 2022. This bridge was one of the victims.

There was a steep, narrow dirt path on the other side of the equipment. At best I could get through in 15 minutes; at worst I could tumble over the side and die a quick death in the river. Now that I think about it, maybe I have that backwards.

I looked at Google maps and decided to improvise a detour. I backtracked to Hindman (just a couple of bored old dogs along the way). I headed over to Kentucky state highway 80, a four-lane road with very wide shoulders and rumble strips.

One kind of rumble strip was narrow and deep. If you hit them at speed you have to stop and pick up your filings. In Kentucky these strips are continuous, only broken when a side road intersects with the highway. That means you can’t cheat by using the travel lane then cutting through a gap in the rumble strip to safety.

The other kind of strip was quite shallow and spanned the entire paved shoulder (which was often 20-feet or more wide). I preferred the latter. It was no bumpier than the backroads.

After a long climb I came upon a detour sign that indicated I could return to my planned TransAm route. Nope. I like this four lane just fine. The only dogs I heard were caged at an animal shelter I passed.

Highway 80 – like riding out west. Note the deep rumble strip on the left.

The highway cut through the tops of mountains that came about one mile apart. The climbs were significant but not very steep. No walking today.

It’s a good thing today is another cool day because there was absolutely no shade on the highway.

After about a dozen of these hills I saw a sign for WalMart. I knew there was one across from my hotel but I wasn’t expecting it yet. Sure enough my hotel was only a quarter mile farther.

The Walmart was part of a shopping district on the top of one of the mountains. I’ve seen this in West Virginia.

There are several eateries in this flattop complex. I chose Wendy’s for lunch. A chicken wrap really hit the spot. I lingered to kill time until check in.

There’s a rental car agency next to the hotel. It has dozens of shiny cars. So tempting until I googled a return route to home. THERE’S NO WAY OUT OF HERE!!!

Tomorrow is a long, hilly one with more dogs and a possible flood-related detour.

Miles today: 22

Tour miles: 840

Final note: Today is my 36th wedding anniversary. Wife and me: 36. Trump felony conviction: 34.

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 16 – Breaks Interstate Park, Virginia to Hindman, Kentucky

This was a day that had it all. Which is not necessarily a good thing.

I slept poorly despite the lovely accommodations. I was groggy for the first ten miles. This is not a good thing because the road conditions here are bad. The shoulder of backroads often is a drainage ditch. Also, there were countless places where flooding broken off the edge of the road.

The day began with salad for breakfast because the park restaurant was closed. And because the salad would not have lasted much longer in my front left pannier.

I rolled out at 8 headed for Hindman, over 70 miles away because the small towns that used to offer shelter to bike tourists stopped doing so. No idea why.

I descended into the town of Breaks where I met a big floof of a dog at the side of the road. He seemed harmless and let out a WOOF then I started past him then he started growling. He began to chase me. In no time at all he had sunk a tooth into my right rear pannier. I was pissed! I stopped and, with the bike between us, confronted the dog. His face said,”Uh, oh.”

Then I began stalking him in a short green space along the road. He was totally freaked out. Where do I go? What do I do?

My actions caused him to completely disengage. Lesson learned.

I descended into Kentucky and came to the town of Elkhorn City.

There was a proper sign a mile with the Governor’s name on it later but this one sufficed.

I had decided to put my dog whistle in my mouth. A dog started trotted down a side road from a county building. I blew hard on the whistle and the dog seemed to say “fuck it“ and went back to the building. The problem with the dog whistle is that it is metal and rough on the teeth when bouncing along bumpy roads.

The country roads for most of my route passed homes, about half of which had a dog. Every so often I’d see a loose dog running toward the road. I tried my horn but discovered that it doesn’t work well when it’s not held vertically with the horn on the top of the gas cylinder. It did deter one dog, however.

Later two dogs started to give chase. The horn was peeking out and of my handlebar bag attached using Velcro. I hit the horn button three times and the dogs disengaged. Not bad.

Still the idea of waiting for a dog to be in full flight seemed like a bad strategy. So every time I saw a dog or dogs running toward the road, I stopped. This did away with panic pedaling with a dog snarling along side me. Instead the dogs chase instinct was short circuited. I still had to get past the dog but at least I now had some control over the situation. (When I watched a YouTube video describing this technique I thought the guy was insane. He has it right.) Of course, doing this slows my progress but after the dog disengages I’m much less stressed out.

One time a dog came off his porch and ran straight at me on a walkway perpendicular to the street. I stopped at the end of the walkway and told him to “Get in the porch” and he did.

Later I was chased by three small dogs. One of them was an old dachshund bitch that just wouldn’t disengage. I pulled out my mace and gave it a shot but she had pivoted in response to her owner and I only sprayed her butt.

The last dog was a somewhat muscular looking mutt. I stopped and yelled. There were kids and parents hanging out on a lawn about 50 yards from the road. They clearly didn’t give a shit about my predicament. After five minutes of my pleading with them to get their dog, they sent a ten-year-old girl to get it. The dog eluded her and kept harassing me. I appealed to the adults on the lawn but they didn’t budge. “He won’t bite you.” It took a good ten more minutes to gradually escape the situation with the help of pickups coming in both directions.

Dogs around here don’t chase motor vehicles. It’s something about the sound of a bike that sets them off.

There were five steep climbs on the route. I walked part of four of them, probably for a total of five miles. It sucked.

Backroads were pretty but the dog attacks ruined any ability to enjoy the scenery. Whenever I passed a building within sight of the road I went into scan mode.

The route did feature some fun downhills. One dog tried to give chase when I was hauling ass down one of these and the dog seemed to realize that he couldn’t catch me and stopped running.

I was on highways a couple of times. They were flat and had decent shoulders (marred, however, by rumble strips). It’s fun to cruise along at 15 to 18 mph and not have to worry about dogs.

I’m staying at another church hostel. These are big community rooms that have limited amenities. This one has a shower and a washer and dryer. There’s a take away pizza place across the street. I ate a medium all by myself. It was mediocre, a step above the Hunt Brothers variety on sale in every GSCS.

See. It’s pretty. Note the absence of dogs or an old man pushing a bike up a steep hill.

Mikes today: 71.5

Tour Miles: 818

Tomorrow I have the choice of a 60+ mile ride to a camping hostel at a church in Booneville or a semi-rest day of 20 miles to a hotel in Combs. I’ll decide when I wake up. Right now my back hurts and my hamstrings are so tight that I fall backward when I stand.

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 15: Elk Garden to Breaks Interstate Park

Lights went out at 9 last night. Before turning in I raided the fridge for a small frozen Salisbury steak dinner. This was after I ate a bowl of beef soup and downed an Italian sub. Gimme protein or gimme death.

In the morning, after eating some prefab oatmeal, I hit the road, headed north to Honaker on rolling roads.

I saw some trash along the roadside after Rosedale. I counted five syringes. I’m in Demon Copperhead country where the despairs of daily life are eased by a shot of death.

In Honaker, I stopped at a GSCS for second breakfast: a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit, a day old banana, and some chocolate milk. It was a good thing too because I had the lame idea that today would be flat-ish until the finish.

After Honaker, I encountered a 1,000-foot crusher of a hill. No worries. I biked what I could and walked the steep part in the middle. Peter from LA caught and passed me. After the hill I enjoyed a fun downhill, followed by a good 16 miles of relative flat roads.

I saw a fairly large ranch house down the hill to the left of the road. Two boxers sensed my approach and started barking. Then they started running. No way they going to run up a 100-foot hill on a 1,000-foot driveway.

Way.

They came after me barking up a storm, one on each side. I tried to use my air horn but had trouble getting it to work. The alpha dog was at my left, a foot from my pedal. The beta dog was just off my right rear pannier. I sped up and started yelling maniacally like Fay Wray.

Alpha dog backed off momentarily, then came after me again. I swerved at him trying to hit him with my front left pannier while accelerating up a mild grade.

Thankfully the dogs lost interest after the longest 30 seconds of my life. I don’t think that they would have bit me, but you never know.

I resolved to stay more vigilant in the future. I’m also going to put some stones in the concave dent in the top of my handlebar bag.

In Davenport I stopped at a grocery store. There was Peter having a nosh and having his ear bent by a local man. As soon as he was finished with his sandwich, he took off. Cant blame him. I followed with neither the intention nor the physical capability of catching him. He’s way too fast.

Ahead await today’s main event: three short, steep hills in rapid succession.

Hill number 1 was just outside Haysi. It was well over 10 percent in spots. I rode about 3/4ths of it, pushing The Mule for the rest. After an entertaining descent came hill number 2. I climbed it without stopping. Dang. Hill number 3 put the hurt in me. I walked the steep bits.

This county is where Ralph Stanley, bluegrass legend, lived

I was expecting the entrance to Breaks Interstate Park to be a few miles beyond the summit but it was to my left just at the peak, a couple of miles early. Happy face. The road to the lodge where I am staying was laughably steep. I hoofed it.

I arrived at 1. My room wasn’t ready so I had me some all-you-can eat Sunday buffet. One man with an enormous belly demonstrated amazing skill at balancing fried chicken on a plate. His gluttony kind of turned me off so I had pot roast instead. And green beans. And a roll with butter, and a big salad on a separate plate. There was fruit salad and ice cream for desert. So good!

After lunch my room was ready. It’s huge. It has a balcony in the trees. It has a hot shower, my first since Whytheville. Life is good.

Tomorrow will be brutal. With no places to stay, I have to ride 70 miles to Hindman. Five climbs. Easily the most challenging day yet.

Miles today: 43.5

Tour miles: 746.5

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 14 – Damascus to Elk Garden

The hostel was quite cold last night. And my knees were aching from yesterday’s hill fest. I didn’t sleep well.

At 8 I walked the block to the Damascus Diner where I ate dinner last night. I ordered “The Hogg” and I felt like one after eating it.

Before leaving town I stopped at a bike shop to use their floor pump. Next I headed along rolling country roads to Meadowview. It was a net gain of 100 feet of elevation over 15 miles.

The next 5.7 miles are a descent of about 500 feet to the town of Hayters (rhymes with highters) Gap.

Shortly after the town came the 3-mile, wooded climb to the eponymous gap at 3,000 feet. Fortunately, no trucks are allowed on this road so it is relatively safe despite numerous switchbacks.

I made the first mile without much difficulty. I could tell the grade was increasing with each switchback. I decided to climb 1/3rd to 1/2 mile then rest. This worked well for a mile. I stopped to rest and put both feet on the ground. When I went to start pedaling again, I couldn’t get enough momentum to keep from toppling over.

So I started walking. I soon discovered that pedaling bike up a grade at 3.2 mph is much harder than pushing it bike up at 2.9 mph. So I walked the last mile to the top.

The descent was equally steep, so much so that I stopped twice to let my rims cool.

I stopped for the day at a United Methodist Church bike hostel at Elk Garden, 33.5 miles for the day.

I’m accompanied by Peter from Los Angeles who is traveling light and arrived from Troutdale.

Tomorrow’s destination is the lodge at Breaks Interstate Park. Their restaurant closes at 4 and doesn’t reopen until Tuesday so I need to get up and ride. It’s about 50 miles with some short, steep hills.

Miles today: 33.5

Tour miles: 703

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 13 – Whytheville to Damascus

Yesterday was the “I want my mommy” day of this tour. It ranks as one of the of the ten worst days I’ve ever spent on a bike.

Today was the “Who’s your daddy?” day. the last 20 miles are among the best I’ve ever ridden.

I slept in two to three hour spurts. Mindful of comments about my diet being rather inadequate to the task at hand, I had bacon and eggs with coffee for hotel breakfast.

Last night in a search to purge weight from my bags I found four BelVita packs and four apples. I decided not to grab food for the road from the hotel. Time to consume the consumables.

Before leaving I cleaned and lubed my chain and put a drop of lube on various places on my cables and derailers. Ready to roll.

I coasted downhill for a stop at WalMart then rejoined the route in downtown Whytheville. I didn’t feel very good but decided to continue anyway. On top of the brutal hills, I’ve been dealing with pollen issues for several days. Having sinuses filled with gunk makes me drowsy.

The route took me southwest on Lee Highway, US 11, the old main route through the Shenandoah Valley. Traffic was light and drivers gave me plenty of space. More importantly, the grade of the road was gentle, rarely exceeding 2 or 3 percent, despite what my map’s elevation profile said.

I seemed to be getting stronger by the mile. A light headwind didn’t seem to be slowing me. I came to Rural Retreat and stopped at an Amish-run bakery and coffee shop for second breakfast.

Note the sign at lower left that says “ Yoder’s”, an Amish name.

As luck would have it, today is National Doughnut Day. I bought a cup of coffee and was treated to a huge glazed doughnut. So much for my dietary improvements.

The best things in life are free. And big.

About a quarter mile later, I went into a grocery store and bought dinner, a big turkey and egg salad. My planned destination was a church hostel in Troutdale. There is no food there or in town so it’s BYOS.

According to the elevation profile, I had climbed about 200 feet to 2,500 feet.

I was now headed south toward Cedar Springs and Sugar Grove. Gradually I was gaining more elevation but I really didn’t notice. The wind was no longer on my face and I was locked in. I call it The Trance.

I was buzzing along on this two-lane country road, admiring the scenery and chatting with the cows and goats and horses grazing near the roadside. I look up and there are two cars coming toward me in the other lane. A third car starts to pass them in my lane!

The driver was an old lady with a permanent, white hair stacked up on her head like a helmet. She was taking her time. Coming right at me. No worries. I pulled off the road onto a mowed lawn. Old lady never blinked an eye as she drove by.

At Sugar Grove I started the six-mile climb through the Mount Rogers Recreation Area to Troutdale. The ride wound through a beautiful forest. The grade was gradual. I just kept buzzing along. A raging creek and wild pink flowering bushes running along the road. My legs never tired. I stopped at the top for a snack then flew down the two-miles to Troutdale. Big fun.

I arrived in Troutdale at 1:15. I’d ridden 38 miles, the weather couldn’t have been better, and my mind and body were ready for more. What a contrast to yesterday.

I was at about 3,500 feet before the descent to 3,000 at Troutdale. I decided to ride 23 miles to Damascus. More gradual climbing to 3,700 feet then a couple more short climbs. None of the climbs bothered me in the least. I was cookin’ with gas. And the scenery was perfecto.

I could have taken dozens more but I didn’t want to spoil my downhills

I had the option to ride the Virginia Creeper Trail for the last 13 miles into Damascus. I didn’t bother. The road was a total blast, gently winding this way and that down to Damascus at 2,000 feet.

I’m staying at The Place, the first hostel to cater to hikers on the Appalachian Trail. It has been welcoming TransAm cyclists since Bikecentennial in 1976.

This must be The Place. The Mule abides.

I am two miles from Tennessee. I’ll save that state for a Natchez Trace ride in 2025.

Tomorrow is a short ride to a church hostel in Rosedale. The midway climb over Hayter’s Gap is 1,500 steep feet. These boots are made for walkin’.

I’ve booked a room at the lodge at The Breaks Interstate Park on the Kentucky border for Sunday.

Thanks to all the readers who bolstered my spirits after yesterday.

Miles today: 59

Tour miles: 668.5

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 11 – Christiansburg to Draper

I slept poorly last night until I realized the AC wasn’t turned on. I awoke shivering at 7:30 a.m.

The first order of business was to lay waste to the hotel breakfast bar. Mission accomplished.

I left late because my hosts for the night, 30 mikes away, won’t be available until 4 p.m. I stopped at a hardware store to pick up some Velcro strips. I’ll use them to attach my air horn and mace canister to me or my bike. I am preparing for the dogs of eastern Kentucky.

As for the dogs of Virginia, they seem to be on vacation.

The topography of this area is a series of ridge lines running southwest to northeast. I’m in between two ridges following country roads that rise up 100 or 200 feet then go down 100 to 200 feet. None of these climbs were particularly challenging but I walked two anyway because it’s really not much slower and much easier that grinding away at 3 mph.

Before Radford I saw the word SLOW painted on the road. Properly warned I zoomed down and around a steep hill.

In Radford I stopped for lunch at a hot dog place. I ordered a large Diet Pepsi. It was more ludicrous than large. The food was fine.

The drink was so big, it didn’t fit into the picture

I crossed the New River and continued south with dark clouds coming over the ridge to my left. The temperature started to drop. Winds increased. I stopped and put on my rain jacket. Small leaves started falling and swirling across the two-lane road.

I looked up and saw a 100-foot tree swaying ominously. Limbs started falling onto the road. A few football-sized rocks were dislodged from the jagged rock face to my right.

Time to get off the road. I came around a bend and saw a dozen or so big branches in the road. As luck would have it, the was a house with a covered porched to my left. I took shelter as the storm raged. In ten minutes the show was over and I was in my way.

The view from the porch. Doesn’t look too bad, but it was.

I arrived at my Warmshowers hosts an hour early. They were here and ready to greet me.

I’m staying with the owners of this vineyard

I started the day at 2,000 feet and ended it at 2,200.

Dinner tonight is spaghetti and meatballs.

Tomorrow’s planned destination is a church bunkhouse in Troutdale, near the Appalachian Trail. The 60-mile ride involves quite a bit of climbing to about 3,000 feet.

Mikes today: 33.5

Tour miles: 580.5

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 7 – Charlottesville to Afton

Another perfect day on the road. Temps in the 60s, low humidity, sunny skies.

After laying waste to the hotel breakfast, I headed into downtown Charlottesville and re-joined the TransAm.

The route went west toward the Blue Ridge on picture postcard country roads. There were plenty of climbs as the route toyed with the eastern side of the ridge.

I was warned that there is no food at today’s destination in Afton, so I stocked up at a country store in White Hall. At noon I diverted to Crozet where i had a burger and fries. The large fries could have fed four people. I surrendered half way through the pile.

More hills and a rather dramatic uphill switchback came next. After I crossed I-64 the ride up the ridge began. It was tough. I had to stop twice to get my heart rate under control. The second time I was on a steep section so I pushed my bike 100 yards to a flat spot. A half mile later I was at the Cookie Lady’s house in Afton.

June Curry saw some bike tourists slogging Afton Mountain Road past her house on a hot summer day in 1976 and offered them water. Day after day the Bikecentennial riders came by. Eventually she caught on and started giving out cookies. She died about 12 years ago but her house is now a bike hostel of sorts. Actually it’s more like a shrine to the TransAm.

I’m here with Greg Parker, an eastbound TransAm rider. He hooked me up with a Warmshowers host for tomorrow and warned me of the vicious dogs in Eastern Kentucky.

A family of three is just arriving to fill out the rest of the rooms tonight.

The house is directly across the road from the Blue Ridge Tunnel, so I went for a three-mile hike to check it out. It’s not particularly bike friendly but it’s so cool inside that it feels like a shower on a hot day.

Tomorrow I climb up to the Blue Ridge Parkway. It’s sure to be challenging but I get a legendary descent on the far side.

Miles today: 31.5

Tour miles: 398.5

It may be hilly but it sure is beautiful

Bike Tour 2022 – Nehalem State Park to Astoria

Nehalem State Park was the best campground we stayed at during our trip. We camped in a huge stand of pine trees. The pine needles and sand made for a perfect natural mattress. The bathrooms were clean and the showers refreshing. The windy evening gave way to cool breezes at night. The roar of the ocean off in the distance lulled us to sleep.

We broke camp after breakfast. Oatmeal for Corey and Mark, an apple, a banana, a Clif Bar, and three spoonfuls of PB&J without bread for me.

We climbed back up to 101 by backtracking then started the first of several climbs. None of them broke 1,000 feet but they certainly gave us a workout. The first climb out of Nehalem to Oswald State Park topped out at about 625 feet. Quite a way to start the day. We next descended into a tunnel. We all wore blinkie lights in anticipation of darkness but the tunnel was extremely well lit. No worries about not being seen.

We had light winds for most of the day, a blue sky with puffy clouds, and temperatures in the 60s.

It was yet another day of superb scenery. Ocean views out the wazoo.

The traffic was a bit of a drag but we diverted into Cannon Beach and stopped for proper breakfast after 20 miles or so. After climbing back to 101 we descended into Seaside where we rode along the boardwalk next to the beach.

After Seaside we left 101 for Lewis and Clark Road, the back road into Astoria. The road was windy and hilly, cutting through countryside and away from the ocean. After much exertion we stopped at Fort Clatsop, where we checked out a replica of the fort used by Lewis & Clark during the winter after reaching the Pacific Ocean.

We’ve been bumping into Lewis and Clark for hundreds of miles. Too bad they didn’t have bicycles and paved roads.

After our tour of the fort we rode over the Lewis and Clark River then over Youngs River into Astoria. I was gritting my teeth on the steel deck of the second bridge when the genius driver of a passing pick up yelled at me to “use the sidewalk.” So helpful.

Astoria forms a rounded point at the mouth of the Columbia River. We rode around the point then, mostly, along a bike trail along the riverfront.

Because of pedestrian traffic and sketchy trail design (the trail goes along some trolley tracks) I fell behind Corey and Mark and missed their big finish. Actually there wasn’t a big finish because there is no sign indicating the end of the trail. (The same is true at the eastern end I’m of the TransAmerica Bicycle Trail in Yorktown, Virginia.)

Mark’s wife Tracy was there to greet us with a phone for picture taking and a rental car with a trunk full of drinks and snacks.

While we were talking about our travels, Billy and Greg, whom we had met a few days ago, pulled up to finish their TransAm.

As we were about to leave, three riders appeared, heading south. Really south. They were bound for Ushuaia, the southernmost city in Argentina!

Mark and Tracy went one way and Corey and I another. Corey and I are sharing a room in a Motel 6 underneath the scary bridge across the Columbia River to Washington State. We feel like a couple of trolls.

Tomorrow we head toward Portland, most likely a two-day trip. Corey is taking a train to Chicago on Sunday. I’m flying home on Saturday.

Miles today: 50.5 Tour miles: 3,336

Looking up into a cool tree with a foggy lens

Me, Corey, and Mark at the finish of the TransAm

Greg and his Tour Easy after his first bike tour, across the country!

The view from our hotel window. People bike over that!

Bike Tour 2022 – Kiwanda Beach to Nehalem State Park

After a moment of profound reflection (Dang, that’s a big rock) at Chief Kiwanda Rock we set out on our mission to edge frustratingly closer to the end of the TransAm Bike Trail in Astoria, about 95 miles to our north.

We climbed straight up about 800 feet, the down, then up a few hundred more, then down. Unlike a week ago we are now dealing with hundreds rather than thousands so, except for the steepness, the climbing is no big deal, and we get the bonus of views of the Pacific coast from time to time

Along the way we met two southbound riders who warned us of a nasty 15 percent grade downward in which the road was covered in gravel. They had stout tires and rode up the bloody beast but we decided to divert from the main routes and check out the Three Capes Scenic Route. It was plenty scenic and, of course, hilly AF. We endured the roller coaster for about a third of the loop before Mark pointed out that a landslide had knocked out 1 1/2 miles of the route. It was scheduled for repair by 2030.

That was a tad more time than we were willing to wait so we doubled back, re-climbing most of the hills then turned inland to get back on the main TransAm route.

This wee shortcut involved a monster hill that went straight up. A boy on an e-bike sped by me as I ground my knees to dust. Curse you, you little twerp!

A second climb took us to the main road which we used to bypass the gravel hill of doom and ride straight into Tillamook, a cheesy place if ever there was one. A field just outside of town was filled with enormous black and white cows. I presume that milk from these animals is used to make chocolate chip ice cream. I could be wrong.

After lunch of chili and a taco in a bar in Tillamook, we started north but now that hill with the electronic kid had given me a screaming lower back ache.

Oddly once I was in the bike my back felt fine. Our route now coincided with US 101, the Pacific Coast Highway. I don’t mind hills and I can tolerate traffic but the combination of the two makes for unpleasant riding

After 27 more miles we arrived at Manzanita where all the motels were booked. We decided to camp one last time at a state park with hiker/biker sites. We lucked out again. Our tents are nestled among a stand of pine trees. Soft ground and cool ocean breezes should make for a good night’s sleep.

Tomorrow Astoria!

Miles today: 62 Tour miles: 3,285.5

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