Wanderlust

One of the compelling reasons for doing this trip in the order in which I did it (East to West) was that on the Pacific Coast, the winds, they say, are always out of the north. So I’m in Portland, saying things like “sheesh. 700 miles? Piece of cake. It’s going to be tailwinds and blue skies from here on out.”

For the last three nights, it’s rained. Hard. Rained like my tent is starting to get suspicious mildewy looking patches.

For the past three days, there has been an unrelenting headwind. Really, positively, indubitably windy. All. Day. Long. For the record, I just checked weather.com and the winds are out of the southwest at 20 mph, with gusts up to 29. Not joking, y’all.

Which I guess is what I deserve for getting cocky. Last night, though, was lovely. I cruised into Sunset Bay State Park and what looked like a hobo encampment – brightly colored clothes fluttering off clotheslines and skinny disheveled bikers happily puttering around camp. Such a collection of people – parents on vacation while their kids are at camp, two other women on their own, one from Sasketchwan, one from Moab, Utah, and groups of retirees for whom biking all day is their idea of a good time.

I hit 4,000 miles yesterday, which felt pretty damn good, let me tell you. I’m going to laze my way down the coast, given the wind, but I am planning to ride into San Francisco on the 29th (which conveniently coincides with my fourth and last full moon of the trip).

More details will have to wait for a non-time-restricted computer.