South Along the Coast

Sigh. The last day. I'm not ready to quit riding yet! Today we do 50 miles going south on Highway 1, along the Oregon Coast Bikeway. I'm happy that the early miles of the ride include taking our bikes across the fabulous bridge. We're required to walk the bikes, which is fine, because the walkway is narrow and high above the water. That's Debbie and Lilijana up ahead of me.

Looking out from the bridge: the not-so-natural-looking and rather controlled delta of the Willamette River, emptying into the Pacific.

Deb pausing for a view from the bridge to the ocean.

Looking down from the bridge, the shadow of its elegant design arcs across the water. 

After a bit, we hit the coast road, which seems to offer one curious sign after another. Outside a closed-up building with a look of Scandinavian architecture and a sign that says "Japanese cuisine," this larger-than-life-sized cutout sushi chef greets passersby. Has one of the Iron Chefs arrived in Newport, Oregon?

More fitting, this walrus basks in the sun, keeping guard over the flower pots (though it looks like he may have been slacking on his watering duties).

A low-stress real estate sign.

Deb and I pause to admire the scenery.

Brad makes our last lunch for us at Haceta Head State Scenic Viewpoint, which features a lighthouse on a 1,000 foot cliff, a bridge designed by the same engineer as the Newport bridge, and a truly lovely beach being enjoyed by a couple who've planted their beach chairs for the day. 

When we reach the end of our ride, in the town of Florence, Brad gathers us together. He gives us a send-off speech, cheering us on for our endeavors, and reinforcing the sense we get from him that he's pretty fond of his job. 

He awards each of us graduates a little certificate recognizing us for climbing hills, consuming thousands of calories, and happily bonding with each other. All told, over the six days we rode 230 miles and did over 10,000 feet of elevation gain.

Thanks, Brad (our esteemed "Bike Boy"), for doing such a great job as the gander looking after us goslings. Thanks to my comrades in the saddle for being such great company and filling our time together with humor and spirit. And of course, thanks to Deb, for being such a pal, rain or shine, for so many years. What a splendid week we all had together!

An Evening in Newport

I decided to have a stroll around this little seaside town before we headed off to dinner. At the hotel next door, they publicly pronounced their appreciation of the marine abundance just offshore.

Near a jewelry store, a stand of brightly painted tree branches caught my eye.

Sweetest of all the Main Street sights was this motif on a little bench where shoppers could rest and watch the coastal world go by.

After showering up, our little group headed to the Rogue Brewery, where six bucks gets you the tasting flight of your choice from their voluminous beer selection. 

My favorite was the one on the far right, called "Good Chit." Not sure whether it was about flavor or the fun of saying the name.

Donald (who by this time had been nicknamed "Donaldo") had his own flight, while Nancy and Lilijana just enjoyed the food and the company.

While Donaldo and I were enjoying our beers, Brad was reliving his childhood with a root beer float. 

A table of happy bicycle adventurists. Brad is not actually wearing a pointy hat, though it certainly looks that way, doesn't it? 

We sauntered out into a beautiful dusk, strolling near the base of the Newport Bridge. If you look closely, just right of center, you'll see a sliver of crescent moon between columns under the bridge.

I feel a bit sad that this was our last dinner together, and that tomorrow is our last day. What a nice adventure it's been. 

Where the River Meets the Sea

Today's trek was westward, beside the Willamette River, a journey to the edge of the continent. We began on the bike trails of Corvallis, next to fields where researchers are apparently doing important biology experiments. 

While riding a gravel road to a winery serving as a snack spot, I'm greeted by feathered foul with a freer life than their brethren (or sistren, as the case may be) in Corvallis.

Stopping for lunch in the quaint little town of Toledo (no relation to its much-less-adorable namesake in Ohio), the rest of the gang opted for barbecue while Deb and I planted ourselves at the picnic table outside Gracie-Mae's cafe and savored the lunch special: quiche, salad, and a cookie.  

At last, we reach our destination: the not-so-bustling international shipping town of Newport. Is it just me, or is there something ironic about the sign's declaration that "this ConnectOregon project is funded by the Oregon Lottery"? I guess it keeps folks from having to worry about the fact that port revenue can be something of a crap shoot.

In town, Deb and I ride down a long spit sticking out into the river. At the end, we find a power plant and a missed opportunity to dig some clams. 

Climbing through Yaquina State Park, we get a view of the Yaquina Bay bridge, known by West Coasters as the Newport bridge. The three-quarter-mile span was completed in 1936, and, like the Golden Gate bridge, was a New Deal/WPA project. Also like the Golden Gate, the Yaquina Bay bridge has art deco flourishes and graceful arches. Quite the stunner compared to the new eastern span of the Bay Bridge. Maybe if we had a modern WPA...

As we ride the remaining miles toward the beach, the stiff breeze becomes a howling wind, which we have to fight our way through. It's worth all the sweat and pedal pushing, though, when we see the view from our hotel room. 

An Evening in Corvallis

From Albany we rode 48 miles to the college town of Corvallis. The rolling farmlands of western Oregon aren't the only place on this trip where we can admire charismatic megafauna. On our stroll to dinner in the almost-hip town of Corvallis, we found these little fuzzy cottontails napping.

Aw, aren't they cuuuute? They shared their fenced-in habitat with this rooster and his harem of hens.

And, just to keep them safe when they need to run to the store for some cereal or milk or...um...eggs...

The vehicle below might explain why those little chicks might need to worry: Imagine a 14-seater bus powered by University of Oregon students pedaling while drinking beer:

On the sidewalk: No skateboards, no bikes, no fun. Skateboarders, use the bike lane.

Downtown multimedia art display: a printed poem, photography, and spray paint declaring that it is art, too.

A simple pub dinner with lots of calories to replenish the ones we used up—veggie burger and fries...

And Deb's first encounter with Hush Puppies. Her life will never be the same.

And what would outdoor dining in Corvallis be if you don't get to see the Pub Cycle go past? Notice there are a couple of empty seats, but we figure we'd pedaled enough already.

Tomorrow, it's west to the ocean!

Bridges, Water, and Waysides

After the morning's Route Talk, we hit the road for a 48-mile journey in the sun to Corvallis. Along the way, Deb took this lovely shot. 

Before long, we were rolling by a roadside fruit stand. With a whole gang of new pals to buy berries for, how could I resist these alluring beauties? And, bonus, I would demonstrate the usefulness of carrying a pannier even when there's a sag wagon!

I dropped the fruit loot with Brad and off we went. It's a good thing the tour company had determined where we should go, because there can be a lot of options.

Frankly, I think a winery with my name on it and a town called Sweet Home are pretty convincing pointers. On the way to Sweet Home, we came across the Larwood Wayside.

The wayside, of course, featured a quaint covered bridge.

Which, apparently, is a favorite spot for this local and his pups. 

He stopped to chat with us and share a few of his favorite bike routes in the area. Gotta love Oregon, everyone here rides a bike. As we left the little wayside, we found this self-addressed birthday greeting, which I adopted, since my birthday is just around the corner.

Sweet Home turned out to be pretty much of a non-entity. But further on down the road, Scio promised sophistication, claiming the same title as another town we'd visited earlier.

True to its word, Scio delivered some of the more maintained and classic bridges we encountered.

More importantly, though, Scio delivered tasty treats and a tidy bathroom (not necessarily partaken of in that order). 

To power us for the last leg of the day, Deb and I figured we'd better take Brad up on his offer for a scoop of mint chip ice cream at the Covered Bridge Coffee House. Nothing like a little milkfat to send you on your way.

The Road to Albany (Oregon)

We spent our third day riding to the small town of Albany. Along the way, two things stood out: The number of American flags, and the number of farm animals. Those not pictured below include: Dogs that wanted to play, roosters endlessly crowing, countless cattle, and a little lamb that bleated at us as if it were a small child being abandoned as we rode by.

Leftovers from the 4th of July? Or is it like this all the time?

Sheep eating in unison.

Not entirely sure what a fainting goat is. Maybe a sort of chevre swoon?

Though they're a bit far away, you can see that these goats seem to be fully conscious. Maybe they faint on demand.

Does it get better than this? I doubt it. 

If you love cows, you might as well make 'em a painting on your barn.

Look out for the little waddlers!