Month: August 2012

I decided to go through my panniers once again and mailed off probably four-five pounds of weight.  This is an ever-evolving thing.

So I left Camas after having breakfast at Natalia’s (no sense in getting rid of all my ballast)…I enjoyed a Russian’s take on biscuits and gravy.  The road was nice and flat and very scenic as it went along the Columbia river.  I spotted a fellow alongside the road with a dog all on a full-sized tricycle.  I gave him three Cliff bars…what the hell I just had biscuits and gravy!  No good deed goes unpunished….at least that’s what I thought as I saw the upcoming grade….ah hell no big deal…as long as it doesn’t keep going up around that bend.

Well the bend did conceal the fact that the grade just kept on going.  Armed with a full stomach I was ready.  And by God I did pretty damn good.  I got almost to the top of the grade when I decided to stop and take a photo of the wild blackberries growing alongside the road.  I unclipped my right foot as I always do and promptly leaned to the left and fell over into the road.  Christ I would have loved to seen the look on the face of the lady driving.  She must have shit a kitten!  And a calico at that.  Thankfully there was no oncoming traffic and she avoided rolling over my melon.  I got up thoroughly disgusted with myself but glad as hell she didn’t stop adding to my embarrassment.  My knee got scuffed up pretty good, but I was actually kind of happy to use my first aid kit for the first time.  However, note to self…alcohol wipes do have a shelf life…you can’t get them while working at the casino and expect them to stay damp two years later….hmmm.

I continued on and gained the top of the grade.  Just as I got there I was stopped by a road construction crew.  As I stood there waiting a young guy driving a full-sized pickup pulled up.  Having just done the grade I felt no pangs of guilt asking for a ride.  Garrick, his name turned out to be, a very nice kid from Hood River, OR.  He was on his way home from a job just outside of Camas and was happy to give me a ride there.  He was great company, but I have to admit, I would have enjoyed the descent…I earned it!

We stopped just across the river from Hood River in Bingen, WA for a couple of well deserved beers.  As I got out of the truck I found I had set up like an old bag of cement.  Damn!

Garrick dropped me off at a Motel not too far away from a place to eat and a Laundromat…I needed both.  Prior to going though I popped a couple of muscle relaxers.  Damn, I could barely keep my eyes open during the spin cycle.  I managed to however and drug my sorry ass into bed.  Any thoughts of  microbrews in a fun town like Hood River went out the door!

When I had dinner last night an old-time trucker told me I ought to consider taking a bus from Canby to Oregon City (about nine miles away).  He advised they had some major highway construction taking place and often there was no shoulder to ride on.  So  the next morning I went to the transit station and was able to take the bus for….free!  Starting in Oct they will begin to charge a small fee but as of now it was free…I like free.

The bus was crowded and I had a hellofa time getting those big 29″ wheels into their carriers (time for the carriers to consider a new wheelbase).  The bus was crowded because Oregon City is a big transit station for busses continuing into Portland.

It wasn’t too long before I found myself in downtown Portland.  I’m not a fan of riding into major cities because like many cyclists I hate the traffic and don’t know my way around Portland at all.  Thankfully the Garmin made short work of it.  The reason for the trip downtown was twofold.  I wanted to stop by Renovo Hardwood Bicycles and go to the Apple store downtown.

Earlier in the year I had taken all my black walnut wood Gene salvaged to Renovo.  Renovo makes bicycle frames from laminated hardwoods and I want them to incorporate that black walnut into a bike for me.  It’s worth your time to look them up on the net, http://www.renovobikes.com to see the works of art they produce.  I took several photos, but sent the SD card back home without downloading, so you really ought to check out their site!

I didn’t want to take the bike to the Apple store downtown because I knew it would be a pain to get there and I wanted to know my bike would be there when I came out, so John, the shop foreman allowed me to leave it with them.

I grabbed a cab and a short time later was in the store buying an Apple Nano.  This very small, lightweight iPod can be worn on your wrist like a watch.  Very cool!  Then it was back to the shop and another cab ride across the mighty Columbia.  I forgot how big this river is and all the commercial traffic that plies its way up and down.

I hopped back on the bike and began riding to Camas, WA.  I was riding through a very upscale residential neighborhood so was surprised when I came across a sign “Big Boyz Bicycles”.  Needless to say I turned around and took a look at the neighborhood bike shop.  The owner explained that his lease had been too expensive so he got the local city council to approve his new location.  He said he lost a good chunk of business but it was offset by lowering his overhead.  He seemed pleased with his decision.  His passion for what he does is evident.

I continued on to Camas which consisted of rides through a very upscale rural area.  It is a beautiful area full of small farms combined with nice urban conventions.  This is the second small town which I think is worth settling in (just a thought for all of you looking).

I got to the Camas Hotel (which at first glance is the sole hotel) and was told by Amanda they had availability to the tune of $135….ahh not!  She must have seen some kind of look in my eye, I’ll leave it up to you whether it was charm or homicidal maniac, and told me that if I’d be willing to wait a bit she had a room that was opening up for $50.  I told her I was sure I could find some place to tide me over while the room got ready.

After a whole five minutes of searching I found the Birch Street Uptown Lounge.  As soon as I walked in I knew I was in a trendy upscale establishment.  Dennis, the bartender, was clad in a white smock…the type worn by a pharmacist.  Very cool.  Dennis is an older gentleman and it was immediately obvious he would rather show someone the door for ordering a Slippery Nipple than ever consider serving them.  He’s a classic and I heartily approved.  Now after having said all that I had the moxie to order up a bourbon Negroni.  A Negroni is very much an Italian cocktail and most find it an acquired taste (how I acquired mine is another story altogether).  Mind you I only ordered it when I saw the bottle of Campari on the shelf, so I knew I wouldn’t be shown the door.

Only two other patrons were at the bar; Greg, an older gent who works for a local company  as a finance guy drinking a Manhatan, and Brandon, who sat at the opposite end of the bar working on a glass of red wine.  As things are wont to do, the conversation came about as to how I came to be here…and we were off!  Stories came from each of us and it made the time fly by.

I had noticed while sitting there at the bar enjoying the conversation that a rather disturbing scent wafted through the area from time to time.  I mentioned that perhaps I should see if my room was ready and a shower could be had when Greg, with a big smile on his face said “good, I don’t think the candles can hold out for much longer”.  Many laughs were had and I went off to get cleaned up but not before I threatened to come back after dinner.

My room was on the third floor, but Amanda, God bless her, allowed me to store my bike behind the front desk.  I only had to lug two of my four panniers up the stairs.  I emerged from my room clean, shaved and smelling remarkably better.

I had been told I should go see Todd at Nuestra Mesa (Our Table) for some eclectic Mexican food.  As soon as I walked in I met Todd.  A very friendly guy who started his first restaurant in Sayulita (just north o Puerto Vallarta) many years ago (although he’s young so it couldn’t have been that many years ago).  He met his future wife there and ended up in Camas opening this wonderful place.  We enjoyed some conversation and tequila.  It wasn’t too long before I realized they were ready to close up for the night so I said my goodbyes and headed back to the lounge.

Dennis greeted me like a long-time customer as I sidled up to the bar.  Just after I got there Brandon showed up with his girlfriend (forgive me for not recalling her name).  The three of us shared a couple bottles of red as well as good conversation.  Brandon owns a chain of stores in the Pacific Northwest and has given consideration of opening another in Pullman.  Who knows, perhaps Aaron and I could work together???

We kept the place open till damn near 1am before calling it a night.  I feel now as I did when I first rode into town…this is a special place.

So here’s a reminder to myself…penny wise/pound foolish…that was how I felt about my stay at the Salem Travelodge.  Yeah it was inexpensive but I really wonder how much another place might have been.  It’s not that the room was crappy or the neighborhood was bad, however my neighbor was a drop dead idiot.  I got awoken by his yelling at 1:30am.  A domestic in progress.  It’s not often I call the local cops, but it seemed appropriate today.  It wasn’t long before they showed up and I heard him talking to them…and then they left.  No big surprise…that came at 4:30am when ass-wipe started pounding on my door demanding to be let it.  Well gentle reader, I accepted his offer, but unfortunately he was in his room and mumbled that he mistakenly pounded on my door.  I gave him my thoughts on the matter and returned to bed.  A short time later (it was just getting the first rays of daylight), there was a gentle knocking on the door.  I thought perhaps the female was there to apologize for pin-head’s stupidity, but nope, there was pin-head himself apologizing for waking me up and looking for some sympathy that he hurt his hand pounding on my door.  It takes all kinds.

So it was that I didn’t wake up till after 8am and got a late start on the day.  I wasn’t in the best mood mentally.  Thankfully the day only got better.  My first stop was at a LBS where I was able to get my taillight replaced and pick up some extra zip-ties and screws for my rack (I had forgotten to tighten them down and lost three out of four).  Aaron, the bike tech, told me of a good place for breakfast, so it wasn’t too long before I got the last open seat at The Word of Mouth Cafe.  And Aaron was right, the waitresses were almost as good as the food they served.  Lots of good-hearted back and forth banter.

Stomach full it was time to head off for Canby, about 30 miles away.  I enjoy the 30-40 mile rides, they aren’t too long and my ass doesn’t get too worn out.

The riding was primarily flat with a few rollers thrown in for fun.  Mid-way I stopped for a beer (three actually, but who’s counting) at the Last Chance Saloon.  It was the best rest stop I’d had yet.  It wasn’t long before I pulled in to Canby…population 5-6k.  I got cleaned up and found a nice restaurant close by.  They had a nice big deck that I could pull my bike up on and keep an eye on it.  On the deck a husband and wife were enjoying the last of their dinner and engaged me in conversation.  They were both teachers and had lived in Canby for quite a while.  They were lots of fun to talk with.

I saw that the bar had Campari so I decided to have a Negroni….well actually it was a bourbon version of a Negroni.  Howard, the best bartender in Las Vegas, had told me the name when he made it for me, but like so many things I forgot it.  Regardless, it hit the spot!  Unfortunately the meatloaf for dinner wasn’t nearly as good or satisfying…ah well.

I ended the night watching a couple of episodes of NCIS.

The idea was to take the train to the first stop where checked-baggage could be unloaded…Klamath Falls, OR.  The train ride through the night was fairly comfortable although clad in short sleeves and shorts I was a bit chilly.  Ah well, I’m still fairly well insulated and managed to get some sleep.

When the sun came up I got to enjoy the views of northern California.  I haven’t spent much time in this neck of the woods and was sad that I wasn’t riding through it, but it was also clear that it was a good decision to take the train.  The following photo doesn’t do the issue of smoke justice.

We got to Klamath Falls only to find that the smoke was worse there than it had been in Chico.  I went to the tickmaster and extended my ride to Salem. So instead of my train ride stopping at 8am I was going to be on till 2pm.  The smoke didn’t leave us till we had crossed the mountains westward towards Salem.  I enjoyed breakfast on the train with two cousins from Iran.  One has been living here in the states for several years (Salem) while her cousin still lives in Tehran.  They were nice ladies who really enjoyed their french toast.  Our other tablemate was a rancher from Alturas, OR on his way to meet his wife in Portland for the weekend.

About an hour after arriving in Salem I got the bike and gear all together, then it was off to grab some chow and find a hotel.

The next morning Anne commented on the fact that we could smell the smoke from the forest fires burning further north up around Lassen National Park…exactly where I had been hoping to ride for the next several days.  She questioned the wisdom of my cycling there and mentioned the fact that I could take Amtrak past the areas affected by smoke.

Hmmm, take a train ride or bicycle through choking smoke…..All Aboard!

I turns out that I’d have to go to backtrack to Sacramento to get the train because they only allow baggage to be checked at certain locations and Sac was the closest one.  Thankfully one of their neighbor’s sons had been up from Sac to visit and would be leaving that afternoon.  I was able to throw my bike in the back of his truck and take the quick trip to Sacramento with him.  I offered to fill up his gas tank but he pointed out that he was coming through here anyway.  It really was very nice of him to give a complete stranger a ride to the Amtrak station.

Although the train wasn’t due to leave till midnight I decided to break the bike down.  Turns out to have been a good idea.  I got it out of the way and was able to spend the rest of the afternoon/evening wandering around the Old Sacramento area.  It was a nice place to hang out.  I even had time to watch the new Expendables 2 movie…don’t bother.

I made one tactical error…I packed away any warm clothing I had.  It got pretty damn cool while waiting for the train to arrive on the platform.  I did however manage to sleep a good bit on the train.

First thing on the to-do list for the day was to send out emails to a few WS hosts and hope that one would respond to my last-minute request for a place to stay the night.  Nothing like giving them short notice.

The ride to Chico was an uneventful day of flat, warm temp riding through more agriculture.  I kept focused on what lay ahead…the Sierra Nevada Brewery!  I had been told it was worthwhile to attend the tour.  I arrived in time to take a tour, but I’d have to amuse myself for about 40 minutes.  Hey, they have a bar right?  I enjoyed three cold beers while awaiting the start of the tour.  Nothing like having a bit of a buzz prior to being told about how that good tasting beer was made.  The tour turned out to be very informative.  Sierra Nevada is apparently an industry leader when it comes to being “green”.  I particularly liked the fact they compost all their by-products.  Very cool.

Not long after I pedaled away I passed an Italian restaurant.  Something made me turn back and I’m glad I did.  I enjoyed one of the best Italian meals I’d had in years.  If you ever find yourself in Chico look up the Sicilian Cafe.  It was that good.

I had just finished eating when I got a phone call from Anne (I hope there’s an ‘e’ on the end)…one of my WS hosts.  She and her husband Len would be delighted to have me stay over. Thankfully they were not too far away.  As soon as I got there I got cleaned up and the three of us visited well into the night.  Anne is a mental health therapist and Len is an attorney.  Both were well spoken and a lot of fun to chat with.  Oh by the way lets not forget Ziva, their German Shepard.  She’s still a puppy and was determined that I should know that no one pays any attention to her….Ha!  What a love mooch!

Anne is a long time rider who has been sidelined from riding because of some health issues, but she seems pretty determined to get back to it.  Len makes no bones about supporting her on her decision, but he’ll be driving the support rig and offer her a glass of wine when she finishes for the day.

They warned me that Ziva might come to visit me in the middle of the night, so I wasn’t too surprised when she nuzzled my face at O dark thirty.  I gave her some love and she wandered off to the hallway.

To be clear…Williams is an agriculture hub of this part of California.  I5 bisects the town and semis are continuously getting off and on the ramps.  Not sure where they’re going, but they drive with purpose.

As I left the town behind I hit a glider port on the outskirts.  It was a beautiful morning and I was very tempted to go for a ride, however when I pulled in to the parking lot there wasn’t a soul to be seen so I took it as a sign to keep moving.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I rode I began to realize the vast amount of rice grown in the region.  Huge fields of green…I can’t even imagine the mosquito population, but damn near every time I stopped I got bitten.  Interesting with the West Nile virus being talked about so much.  I heard what sounded like a frenzied group of trap shooters all around me and finally spotted the cannon making the noise.  They’ve got these placed all around the rice fields.  Guess they don’t like to share the wealth with the birds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I continued on my way and rode through the wonderful small town of Colusa.  It boasts about 6k residents and it really is a beautiful town.  The pride of ownership is obvious and people were very friendly.  I stopped an older gent carrying a Beretta over/under and we talked for a few minutes.  He told a little of himself and the town and gave me the most important info…where the best place for breakfast was!

The rice fields continued but started to give way to fruit/nut trees.  I saw pecans, cashews, hazelnuts, almonds and most of all…walnuts.  Sunsweet has a large presence in the area and it was interesting to see how the get the fruit from the tree.  Two low slung rigs get on either side of the tree.  One of them has a claw the grabs the trunk just below the first branch and shakes the shit out of it sending the fruit onto the second rig which conveys it over the top into a loading bin.  Fun to watch but dusty as hell.  I can’t imagine what their Q tips look like at the end of the day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The riding was nice and flat.  Perhaps one day I’ll be more inclined to be excited (in a good way) about hills but for the time being I’m loving the flatlands.  This whole area is strewn with water canals.  Some the size of small rivers and others just a roadside ditch.  With all the work being done in the fields I was a sweat soaked muddy mess.  I made use of one of the smaller canals to strip my shirt off and get it and me cleaned up a bit…musta been a helluva sight for anyone unlucky enough to pass by.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I made it to Gridley around noon and found the Post Office.  Sure enough I had three packages waiting for me.  Two had been sent to me from Cycle Monkey and one from Rosa.  The package from Rosa contained my second set of panniers and rack.  I had decided that I didn’t want to carry the Camelbak on my back and that I needed to adjust the load so although I wasn’t too thrilled with the extra weight I was a good idea.  The packages from Cycle Monkey were bike parts, part of my rack and some clothes I was going to send home.  So here I was at the post office with these three fairly large packages and nowhere to open them and work on the bike.

I am somewhat remiss in saying I “found the Post Office”.  When I got to Gridley I pulled into a gas station and the owner pointed across the street to the Post Office.  I had noticed he had his service bays empty so I went back and asked him if he would mind me working on my bike in the garage.  He, Jeff, is a very likable guy and told me it wouldn’t be a problem.  When I showed up with the three big boxes you could see the wheels spinning as he wondered if I planned and adding all of it onto my already heavily loaded bike.

 

It took over two hours to get things sorted through and added on to the bike.  Jeff was kind enough to let me store the boxes overnight so I could take them over to the Post Office and send them home the next morning.  He also gave me his contact number and told me to let him know if I ran into any problems either while riding to or staying in Chico, my next stop and where he calls home.  Like I said, he’s a kind individual.  Indicative of the people I encounter everyday.

I found the only motel in Gridley.  They were pretty proud of their place by the amount they charged, especially considering the place seemed pretty empty and it was a Thursday.  But she assured me they would be full because today was the first day of the county fair being held in Gridley.  Ah well, no big deal.  Thankfully they had an on-site laundry room and I would be able to get all my things clean.

 

No doubt Marty is going to read this and go “what hills is he talking about”…The hills between Clearlake and Williams.  The damn things just didn’t want to give up!  Thankfully for as busy of a road as it is, it was fairly good to ride.  It had recently been repaved.  The scenery wasn’t up to snuff because it had recently been the victim of wildfires.  Again, the photos don’t do it justice.

 

 

 

 

It was a pretty day out, a little bit of a headwind, and those damn hills!  As I got past the last hill beyond the junction with Hwy 16 I began a blissful descent.  There was a persistent haze over the area, due, I later found out, to the Ponderosa Fire burning between Chico and Lassen Nat’l forest.  Exactly where I’m hoping to go to.  Ah well…

I found a Motel 6…cheap and clean.  I wasn’t about to camp with the weather in the 90’s.  Not too far away there was Granzella’s…apparently a well-known landmark.  I enjoyed their chicken fried steak and Sierra beer on draught!  My waitress stopped in her tracks when she saw me.  She really gave me the up and down before pulling out her iPhone and showing me a picture of….me!  Honest to God, her boyfriend and I could be brothers…close brothers!  Poor bastard!  Hell she brought her co-workers around who all agreed as well.  Too funny!

As soon as I got checked in I jumped in the pool and got some sun…trying to even out the cyclist tan.

 

After a good night’s sleep at Marty and Debs I thought I was ready to tackle the 45 miles to Williams…instead I stopped in Clearlake and got a hotel.  I started feeling like I had in Mexico when I got dehydrated and sick.  I didn’t want this to happen again.  After yesterday’s climb I decided to rest up.  I hit the market and sucked down plenty of Poweraid.

I was going to make use of the Travel Lodge hot tub, but even after an hour it failed to heat up.  The manager gave a lame explanation of why and I called him on it.

Ah well….gives me a chance to catch up with this last bit.

Early to bed and off again tomorrow.

So I awoke just before the sound of a jack hammer did it for me.  I kind of felt bad for anyone who truly wanted to sleep in.  I got everything packed up and took my bags down the stairs, they are heavy enough without adding them to the bike for this tricky decent.

I joined others in the dining room for a great continental breakfast.  This is where I met Dan and Debbie.  Neither of them was overly pleased with our wake-up alarm this morning, but several cups of coffee and good conversation started the morning off right.  They were my second set of couples who had been together for quite a few years and were happy with each other…hmm, maybe I’m starting to see a trend.

Before starting out I had some calls to make.  It has become apparent that this type of touring is requiring my second set of panniers. so I called Rosa and asked her to raid the storage unit and send them up along with another Freeload rack.  My next call was to Cycle Monkey.  I asked them to send all my gear to me instead of all the way back to Vegas.  I should mention that I asked both of them to forward my gear to general delivery at Gridley, CA.

The next call was to Competitive Cyclist in SLC.  I bought the bike from them.  I explained that the XL frame wasn’t big enough and they agreed to send out an XXL.

With all this settled I started on my way.

I found the turnout for Ida Baker Rd and started up a very narrow thin line of pavement.  I passed by Peter Michael winery, one of my favorite white wines (along with Patz & Hall, Pahlmyer, Flowers, and Paul Hobbs).  Here’s a view…

From the beginning the road climbed and I hate to say it, but it wasn’t long before I was off the bike and pushing it up…and up, and up.  It quickly became obvious that the was going to be a climb of epic proportions.  The next photo shows Mt. St. Helena and apparently the road runs just below it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When does this friggin’ thing end…I stop at every patch of shade on the road, lean over my bike and hope my heart doesn’t explode. This continues on for hours…literally.  But God is it a beautiful view.

I had a nice worker come by and give me about a half a gallon of water and then about an hour later I forestry worker stopped by and asked if I was okay and had enough water.  Gosh do you suppose it’s that obvious that I’m way outta my league here?  Then he tells me that he’s impressed I’m on the same route that the pro athletes use to train for riding the Alps….the flippin’ Alps!!

I finally make it to the top although it’s a false plateau…there’s still a little climb before I begin my descent.  Marshall had told me to expect the pavement to turn to dirt.  It really wasn’t too bad, but I was still glad to hook back up to Hwy 29.  I continued my ride to Middletown where I found a nice little Mexican cafe.  A big bowl of chicken soup later and I was back on the road.

I got to the beginning of another moderate climb and decided to call my host.  Debbie answered and told me I was about three miles away from their house.  I have to admit I was hoping she’d offer to come get me….I was spent.

I’m not sure how long those three hours took to complete, but it had to be a hell of a long time!  Just as I pulled in Marty was getting on his bike to try to find me.  I told him how I had come and he was dumbfounded.  He knew all about Ida Baker Rd.  He rides it now and again as part of his training regime.  Marty is 52 and is…..well, a friggin’ stud.  He races mountain bikes and his competitive spirit shows through.  He’s a great inspiration where I hope to be in a year.

His daughter Michaela was cooking us dinner.  Vegetarian spaghetti (banana squash used for the pasta) and vegetable salad.  We had great conversation which continued on when Debbie arrived after a long day at work.

Not long after I crashed out on the pull-out couch…damn I was tired.