Cycling Again

I have, so far, cycled from Skamokawa to Tillamook, and have left Washington behind me to explore Oregon.  I am beginning to think of America as being more like Europe, a conglomerate of individual states with distinct personalities and character, and distinct operational differences.  In Washington for example the bus system is amazing, cheap, covers a lot of ground, and takes buses.  In Oregon there appears to be no bus system or public transport at all.  However in Oregon there are better tourist facilities, every town it seems have a visitor information centre with friendly helpful staff, there are free maps galore, and the road is signposted regularly as being the Oregon coast bike route.
For some unknown reason I am finding the cycling much harder than my first stint, so I will say no more about it for now! Also, why do Americans feel the need to honk when they go through narrow tunnels?  I understand the holding your breadth - but honking? It was horrible!!!!
I have seen some beautiful beaches with wrecks of ships, and huge stacks and rock formations.  I went to the Columbia river maritime museum which was very good, and today I visited the Tillamook Air Museum, which was amazing, mainly for its building which is an old world war blimp hanger. It is huge!  You can see it for miles around, and then upon entering it, and looking up, it simply took my breath away, it is vast.  It is a huge tunnel basically with sides that curve upward to form the roof, and it is cathedral like, only far vaster.  It covers an area of seven acres and is 192 feet high, 1,072 feet long, and 296 feet wide.  So big that you can fly a plane through it.

Summer Update Part Two: Skamokawa

I arrived at Dog Song Farm in Skamokawa (pronounced skamuckaway, and meaning smoke on the water) and immediately liked my hosts, Evan and Sarah, just a few years older than myself, and trying to make a go of farming for themselves on a farm leased from someone else as they couldn't afford to buy their own place.  Both of them were extremely knowledgeable and had years of previous experience working on commercial farms, which I really appreciated and both were extremely down to earth.  There was another Wwoofer staying there - Marcella from Australia, which I thought was funny as most Americans ask if I am Australian.  We spent our time harvesting from the farm and selling at the farmers market in Astoria (where the Goonies was filmed and it does look like that) interspersed with visiting their very nice friendly neighbours, exploring the local area, swimming in the Columbia river - or should I say washing (I had my first shower in three weeks the other day) discussing the economics of small scale farming, discussing the state of the world, history, and the use of horses on farms.  I learned all sorts of things about companion planting, crop rotation, fruit and vegetables, market gardening etc.  I loved digging up the potato plants and finding a nest of treasure beneath the soil!  I also had a window into viewing the world in a completely different way, and I think my stay there has shaped my thoughts in a different direction, which is always beneficial!

Skamokawa was an amazing place, very beautiful, lush valleys full of grasses as tall as me and some with cattle grazing, winding rivers and creeks, and wooded hills.  It felt removed from reality in many ways, a place that had been truly forgotten, there were beautiful barns in true American fashion with huge roofs made from cedar shingles which were silver with age; there were ruined falling down houses all over the place, and at night the coyotees sang.  The area had been thriving at the turn of the last century with the timber industry, salmon fishing in the Columbia, fish canning, and a small community thriving.  There were no roads and all access was by boat, the buildings all face the water, the children would paddle themselves to school in boats, the house wives would go to market by steamer in Astoria, and the milk and cream was award winning.  In the thirties all this changed; most of the old growth forest had been harvested, the salmon had been over fished, it was the depression years, damns were built on the Columbia, and roads were built through the town linking it to the wide world.  Now most people hurtle pass on route four and see a peculiar town, (the road takes in the backs of buildings) and miss the quiet places off the main route, and miss the beauty of the place.  I feel so lucky to have stayed there and got to know it.  The community who live there are all very welcoming and friendly, we went out more than I have done in a few years at least! 

Summer Update Part One: Cycling in Washington

So sorry to everyone who has checked and not had an update for a while, computer access has been sparse, and right now I am using a computer in Tillamook library so I can't add pictures, but I hope to fill you in on some of the blanks.
I left Tacoma at the start of August with my bike, and quickly realised that despite trips made in the past there was no was I was going to manager with just rear paniers, and so shortly after setting out I stopped in Olympia for front paniers which are beautiful, shiny and red.  (I confess that I even got the bus to Olympia to avoid the traffic, buses in Washington are fitted with bike carrying racks on the front.)  Whilst having a front rack fitted I enjoyed the local French Patisserie and had a conversation with a very nice local.  That first day was a hard bike ride, mostly due to the traffic on the route I took to the coast (which was recommended in my book) I struggled, but I expected to struggle, and finally reached the campsite and collapsed into my sleeping bag, without even sampling the delights of the lake.  The next morning I lay in bed for at least an hour thinking, I must get up, I have another 10 miles to do on that main road.  I wish I had Naomi and Kate here to make me get up!  I then had the bright idea of going to the grocery store and asking about buses, which I did and caught it to the coast - I could have gone all the way from Tacoma to the coast by bus and avoided the main road altogether - doh!  Once on the coast - cycling was a pleasure, I got up at about 6am and was on the road early.  I had the road to myself, and the creeks and bays were often just loosing their pyjamas of mist.  I saw lots of wildlife too, one morning a mountain lion crossed the road - I couldn't believe my eyes, another morning a deer, and another morning and evil dog ran towards me at full speed barking and snarling, I peddled form my life!  The scenery was lovely, and I averages about fifty miles a day doing ten miles an hour which was comfortable.  It is enough time to see enchanting views, to smell the mudflats, to take in the birds, and to glide through the towns.
My biggest problem with the cycling was eating enough as I wasn't feeling hungry necessarily, and I seemed to be in very remote areas without many grocery stores.  The best bit about that part of the trip were the quiet mudflats, Creeks, secret beaches and beautiful scenery.

Friends

I am so privileged, and such a lucky person to know so many wonderful people and thought I ought to take the time to thank you all.  I just wish I could do you all justice and thank you as well as the many wonderful things you do for me.  Firstly, a huge thank you to everyone who has had me to stay - who welcomed me when I said I was travelling, who gave me no deadlines, who were keen to see me even three weeks later, who planned all sorts of exciting and wonderful treats and adventures for me, and who insisted that I should feel at home with them.  Marcy, thank you for the wonderful cooking, the sunny garden, beautiful spare room and the many other things... Nicole and Rob, for welcoming me, taking me to see all the goodies in Montana, Bob and Elaine, wonderful hikes, bear advice, Yellowstone National Park, for feeding me, rodeo, flight advice etc...  Thank you, to everyone who has invited me to stay but I haven't got to yet!
I really appreciate everyone who has helped make this the most amazing and enjoyable trip ever!
Sara and Evan - new friends, who have welcomed me to their farm in Skamakwa, and have fed me well and taught me tons, and have been free to share their knowledge and expertise with me.  To their many friends too, who have welcomed me and fed me!
Kate and Naomi,  I know your not here, but cycling, everyday I thought of you (admittedly to wish you were here to help carry my stuff)  but also because you taught me to enjoy cycling, and without your influence I would never be cycling down the west coast and loving every minute of it. (Even the uphills) It is also a lot easier to get going in the mornings with your help!  (I averaged 10 mph and was comfortably doing 50 miles a day with front and rear panniers for your information - I think you will be proud.)
I have many more thanks, but I will get quite boring and sentimental, so please know how much I am thinking of you all everyday, and how nice it is to know that people are actually reading this occasionally and care about what I am up to.  All of you, have had some input into how I am, and I am taking you all with me on this trip!  Thank you for your support, I am so very lucky.

Kayaking on the Missouri

Last year I Kayaked on the Missouri and it was such a perfect afternoon that I held the memory in my mind as being one of my happiest moments in recent years; in fact it was one of the persuading factors for me to quit the job and come travelling.  This year I was really looking forward to floating downstream again in the sunshine; but I was cautious because I know that these moments of perfection can't be repeated.  However, we did go paddling, and it was idyllic, and I had a wonderful day.  There really is nothing quite like messing about on rivers - isn't that what Ratty says?  It is so true though, there is something so tranquil about the moving water, and something so beautiful about the way everything looks in the sunshine.  The Missouri I find rather exciting too, it is such a ridiculously long river, and crosses most of the states, and historically was so important, even I have read novels about the boats that went up and down it.  The part we were on though was less used as big boats never made it up that far, but it doesn't stop it from interesting me.  We had a very leisurely day, we just got in our boats and let the current take us downstream until we got out again, and enjoyed the stunning scenery and wildlife.  There were of course plenty of white pelicans, at one point a bakers dozen of them cruised above our heads like kites, and gleamed white in the sunshine; then we saw herons, and a bald headed eagle.  It was a beautiful day.

The Continental Divide Trail

Nicole's father Bob is spending much of this summer hiking the Montana section of the continental divide, a trail which spans the 5,000km between Canada and Mexico, and I joined him for a small two day section.

Our walk started in forest, beautiful, lush and green with trees so straight and slender and grown so close together it was impenetrable.  Luckily for us, the trail was mostly a clear, well marked path.  We spent a great deal of time hiking up and down through the woods, and only had one real view for most of the day from the top of Thunderbolt Mountain, and what a view it was, you could see miles in all directions.

That evening we ate dinner by a tranquil lake.  We then continued hiking and the woods turned golden with the evening sun, it was incredibly beautiful.  We were attacked at this point by a thousand mosquitoes and we did not dare stop to even catch our breath, when we set up camp for the night I dressed in full waterproofs to keep from being bitten.  This turned out rather funny, because I was trying out a bivvy bag for the first time rather than using a tent.  I carefully climbed into the bag with all of my things, and had successfully zipped myself in without any mosquitoes joining me, when I realised I had a problem.  Getting undressed and into my sleeping bag in a bivvy which was only about the size of a large sleeping bag was difficult to say the least, but I managed, although only with a lot of comic thrashing.  I then lay in my bag listening to an orchestra of high pitched bugs until I fell asleep. 

The next morning (we retrieved our food and bags which had been hung in a tree to keep the bears off) and we set off on our way in rather miserable mist and rain.  I was just telling Bob that this was perfectly normal hiking weather for me, when we came to a meadow and lost our way.  Luckily we re-found the trail  (goodness I love OS maps, I felt quite helpless, we did have a map but it wasn't as good as an OS map, and it was all in imperial not metric!)  We dropped down to an old mining settlement, which was in ruins but quite fascinating, and then hiked back up the hill.  Why do I always forget how much more powerful gravity is on the second day, and how much slower and harder I find the hills?  The last part of our hike was simply the best though!  We descended out of the mist and rain and onto the ridge of a hill, which was covered in wildflowers and I could only name about a quarter of them.  It was beautiful; and so amazing - about a wondrous as the bit in the Sound of Music at the beginning, or like something from Fantasia.  It was Glorious!

Yellowstone National Park 2

We spent a lot of time looking at the waterfalls on the Yellowstone river which were the best I have seen, although memory is a funny thing and each one feels like the best, and then recedes in memory.  They were definitely in the top five waterfalls ever!  The Yellowstone river is broad, a beautiful greenish blue, and although swift flowing, it seems tranquil.  Then there are two huge waterfalls and the river plummets down into a steeply banked ravine and wends its way out of sight, it really is like something from fiction, but even more spectacular.  We walked to every view point available, and stood at the very top watching the water rushing over the top, we then climbed down a narrow metal staircase precariously attached to the sheer face of the gorge and saw the whole thing, with the spray from the impact filling the bottom with rainbows and clouds.

One evening we drove to the Lamar Valley to do some animal spotting.  On the way we saw a huge grizzly bear up on the hillside.  He was a magnificent creature, powerfully built, and a beautiful honey colour.  We watched him for a long time, just admiring the grace of his movements and filled with awe at his size and obvious strength.  He was close enough to see with a naked eye, even the hump on his back, but he was brilliant with binoculars, and I was rather glad he was no closer! 

In the Lamar Valley, which is a wide broad valley which stretches on for miles and miles, and is filled with golden grassland, we saw thousands of Buffalo.  It reminded me of children's books describing the plains of America and the Native Americans there were so many of them.  There were calves as well as lots of grown ups, and again some of them were just amazing.  They had shed most of their winter coats and so they looked more peculiar than normal, with enormous fronts, shaggy legs, shoulders to fit a young elephant, and humps on their backs, and their heads seemed to attach with no neck, and were the size to cover most of their shoulders.  By comparison, their rear ends were almost hairless, and looked rather small and skinny.  They made the most peculiar, very low pitched grumbling, roaring, gurgling noise, a little like snoring, (almost exactly like Totoro's deepest and loudest roar with more gurgle thrown in, for those of you who have seen the film*) and when they did so they displayed black tongues!

At the end of the Lamar Valley we joined a wolf spotting group, and sat on a knoll with binoculars seeing nothing for at least an hour.  Finally some one said I have seen him, over there; which was followed by at least twenty minutes of: "I can't see him, where is he now?" "See that curve in the river bank, well above that there is a dead tree, and he's to the left of that." "Is he to the right of that branch that's sticking out?" "Oh now he's moved, hes moving to the right, near that pine tree." "I still can't find him, is he nearer or further away than the stream?"  etc... You get the picture.  He was too small to see with the naked eye, but I did finally get a good glimpse through the binoculars, and I was relieved that he looked decidedly woolflike and reassuringly bigger and blacker than a dog would have done.

*My Neighbour Totoro.  BTW they have made a film called Arriette based on the Borrowers which has come out in the UK apparently, but wont be out in the states until next year - please someone see it for me, I am so disappointed I have to wait!