Campground/ RV park where I stayed, right on the beach. This whole area and 29 blocks of town were swamped by a Tsunami in the 1960's, killing 30 people or so.

Day 19, Friday, Rest and blog day in Crescent City

Pelicans hankerin for lunch. I spent the day in Rayjens coffee shop, using the wifi and chatting it up with the locals.
It started raining so I decided to camp one more night here. I went out for some karaoke at what seemed like the only bar in town and met two couples from Longview, WA. The guys were both car salesmen. They were quite drunk, but generally good company (bought me drinks! :D) It was not only a one bar town but a one beer town: the only thing on tap was Miller. Bit different from Seattle!

Sun in mud flats 

Sunset from Crescent city campground 

slow trigger on this drive-by. No time to stop! I'm on vacation here! Very strict schedule! Miles, baby, miles! 

State line #2. Oregon: spectacular. Fave town... Newport. Fave ride: today 

seascape blue ribbon 

The Mary D Hume born 1881, 97 years commercial service as a freighter, whaler, tug all over the world. Sailed into this Gold Beach port under her own power 1978, 100 feet from her birthplace.  

Home 

reflecting 

Red-winged Blackbird 

misty seashore lady 

mmmm 

ahhhhh 

Day 18, Thursday, Humbug Mtn SP to Crescent City, Califor-ni-a, 82 mi

This ride was the longest and most beautiful yet.

In camp at Humbug Mtn SP. This British couple are taking a year to bike from Anchorage, AK to Argentina.

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Marty drops his precious OJ and runs through traffic to get it. Marty takes no breaks except for bathroom and mad dashes (not unlike the one pictured) to supermarkets for juice and fig newtons and yogurt. When I met him, he had just started using Lanacane topical anasthetic on his rear end to numb the pain from riding all day. "A poor man's viagra!" he exclaims.

Marty scared the hell out of everyone we met. People have a hard time dealing with that much freedom and energy. In the evening, at Humbug Mtn SP, a bunch of other bikers were also treated (or subjected) to Marty's hilarity as he spun tales of adventure and treasure and close scrapes with death. My goal in sticking with Marty all day was to see if he could maintain the same energy all day long. When I woke at 6 the next day, Marty was long gone.

Marty's road wisdom...

Marty's setup: self-designed windshield "headwinds are a thing of the past! and I can sail with a tailwind!!!"; OJ-for quick calories- he tries to ingest 6000 per day; old skateboarding shoes, two blown out knees; no riding shorts or riding gear of any sort; original 1976 tires- "ridden the coast 3 times without a flat- Michelins!"- "I've got TIRES older than you, teenybopper!!"; no tent- just a plastic 'pallet cover' he slides into. He says bike touring is inherently miserable and it's futile to try to make it comfortable. Has a point there...

Marty's philosophy: Don't be lazy about making your life interesting!! He tells this to every young person he meets. He certainly walks his talk: owner of a fertilizing company, he wanted to somehow distinguish his bag of manure from the next, so he contracted his nephew to draw a pinup girl to print on the bag. In the drawings, he has hidden codes that, if cracked, lead to buried treasure!! He has buried five steel plates, all in places no one has ever set foot, which can be exchanged with him for cash. The thing is that he hasn't told anyone about it. He is waiting for someone to notice the hidden code in the artwork and then contact the company and ask about it. He figures, after that, the hype will grow through word of mouth. The first plate is worth $250 at the moment, but he says the value will grow the longer the treasure goes undiscovered. He's going to mail me all five different bag designs. Treasure will be mine!!! Aaarrrrgggghhhh!!!!

Marty has also spent the last 25 years developing a light-up hockey puck (after all, he's Canadian, eh). Speedo is currently in negotiations with him to purchase the design and mass-produce it. He's going to send me one of those too. Could be an interesting Christmas...

Marty: You wanna lead, follow, or get out of the way? Me: I'll follow in that wind tunnel. Marty: Come on, I'LL PULL YA!! 

Day Marty, from Marty to Marty, Marty kilometers

This is the man, the myth, the legend, the prophet MARTY. Rolling out of the hostel at around noon, I see this guy come flying by on his spaceship/bike. He smiles, hits the brakes, crashes trying to slow down, gets up and without missing a beat, "Where you from?" he yells. Without waiting for an answer... "Where you headed?". "Seattle to LA". Marty: "When did you start?" Me: A couple weeks ago. Marty: I entered the states on Friday... what is it, Wednesday?

Marty is on his way from Vancouver to Mexico in 15 days, averaging well over 100 miles a day. He rides from 5am to 7pm every day. I spent the day riding with him and soaking up all his quirky life and travel wisdom delivered in stories and in hilarious fashion. He basically yelled these stories at me all day. Marty is a born entertainer. I even videotaped about 20 minutes of his ranting and ravings. He didn't mind at all. No inhibitions. What a world he must inhabit...

I stayed in the Sea Star hostel in Bandon for 20 bucks. It was very nice, with free wifi, a community lounge and passable beds. Most importantly, it was indoors, as it was raining. The toilet made a flushing sound every 3 minutes, but I was so weary I slept just fine. Revenge of the log!! 

Lonely gull heads into the mistic in Bandon harbor

The beans steam and hiss as they are roasted on site at Rayjen coffee in Bandon.

Trying to update the site, with no luck. Here is a sample of Kai's work... for more go to www.hiddenlandscape.com.

Day 16, Tuesday July 5 Sunset Bay SP to Bandon

Today, my legs hurts a bit and I fell in love with the town of Bandon. Here I sit, collecting my wits chatting with Kai, a local abstract photographer. This is my best attempt to imitate his craft...

Day 15, Monday, 4th of July Umpqua SP to Sunset Bay SP

I have no photos from this day that are worth publishing. The park sucked and the weather was gloomy. I found myself meditating on the violent price of our 'freedom'.

Shakespeare by the fire anyone?

These signs are scattered down the coast assuring you that you're not on the east coast going north. I have come to like them. They're cute or something... security, like a blanket or a paycheck... hmmm.

I slept in Umpqua Lighthouse SP. The hiker biker site was full, but a group of former Southern Oregon U (in Ashland) students invited me to squeeze in with them. We stayed up late sitting around the fire and throwing around ideas about mythology, symbolism, ethics and law... what fun! Sharp folks! One of them-Glen- even did a monologue from Romeo and Juliet that he had used to audition for the Shakespeare Festival in Ashland. He's still awaiting an answer, but I'd be shocked if he doesn't get the part!

I slept till 2:30 the next day! Log man strikes again!!

Proof!

Proof!!! (80miles) This little screen is my only non-scenic entertainment besides my own looping thoughts: food... females... any type of motorized or teleport travel... beer... food...~~ I tend to get obsessed with my 'average speed', trying to keep it at a certain number going up hills. Gravity always wins. The road humbles!!