TransAm Day #65 Grande Ronde, OR - Cape Lookout, OR
TransAm Day #65
July 31, 2018
Grande Ronde, OR - Cape Lookout, OR
57 Miles
Ride Time 4:30 Hours
Tour Total Miles 4506
Last night I slept in my spacious new two-person tent at the RV park in Grande Ronde. We had pulled in late, after my companions failed to win a room at the Spirit Mountain Casino. We set up our camp in the ‘tents only’ area, showered in the men’s room (the lady’s was locked), and threw our clothes in the washer. We didn’t have enough quarters for the dryer.
When I crawled out of my tent this morning, all of the bathroom doors were locked. I didn’t have the code so I went down to the river. Barbara had given us bottles of Cognitol, one of the OM~CHI herb products she sells. We promised we would each take two capsules a day to bring out our true personalities.
When we went to the camp store to buy breakfast cereal, Scott got mad because I asked him in front of the clerk if we had paid for the camp site yet. For me, sneaking into RV park showers isn’t as bad as sneak camping. He thought we could have gotten away with it, and I was shamed in front of the others. Speaking of shaming, Scott’s spoon has no handle. He’s eaten all his camp meals the entire tour with a spoon that has a broken-off handle.
After breakfast our clothes were dry, and we changed right then and there in the laundry room, immediately before someone walked in. I should have washed my gloves. They’ve been wet for days and they have an awful odor. Loki can smell them all the way from Montana, and he’s wagging his tail.
We were getting ready to leave and Klaus started applying chamois butter right in front of the women’s bathroom as a lady came walking out. She was later seen talking to a man and pointing towards us. Eileen scolded him for completely abandoning society.
I was on the road by 11am. State Highway 18 had a lot of traffic and it was cold. I had to stop to put on my sweater. It was hazy, and felt like it could rain. I had it in my head that the trip would end on a sunny seashore. It never occurred to me that it could be cold and rainy.
The day entailed three climbs for a total of 3530’. Highway 18 took me to within three miles of the coast at Otis. Rather than joining busy US Highway 101, the route doubles back east and north into the hills on the old highway. I was so close to the Pacific but had to pedal another eight miles and over a hill to get there.
I climbed switch-backs through dense forest filled with moss, ferns, and waterfalls. I met a guy at the top who’s riding the Pacific Coast Trail from Vancouver to Los Angeles. There are tons of touring cyclists on this route loaded down with panniers.
In Neskowin I finally reached the Pacific Ocean. It was wild to be walking through beach sand with the smell of seawater. We went down to the water’s edge and took pictures. All my readers now think that I’m finished, but I still have two more days on the trail. At Neskowin Trading Company I had a pizza croissant and a Hefe Weitzen.
The coast is gray, foggy, cloudy, and cold. The road follows the hills with trees to the east and the ocean to the west. There were low clouds, dense foliage, and steep pointy hills stretching all the way out to the sea.
I rode another ten miles to Pacific City. I went to Pelican Brewery where I had oyster shooters, salmon flat bread, and Red Irish Ale. I sat out back where I could see a ginormous rock island to the south and a mountain-sized dune to the north. Hundreds of people were playing on the sand dune. From the distance they looked like ants. After dinner I met a backpacker and his dog who were living off the land foraging huckleberries and mushrooms.
I still had another fourteen miles to pedal to my campsite. It was getting dark, and my rear light was dead. It’s incredibly humid here. I get hot and sweaty climbing hills, and then I freeze on the downhill. I rode past an area with enormous sand dunes. Scott and I stuck together, for the final climb. At the top of the hill we stopped to admire the breathtaking view of the sea below, with waves crashing into the sand.
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