2/47 – Oregon and Highway 101 – 26-29 Sep 2024

Thursday 26 Sep 2024

Thankfully the weather had improved markedly when I peered through the window. It was still chilly, so I dressed accordingly.

The ride was a throwback to my experience at Myrtle Beach; a long stretch of shops and businesses with nose-to-tail traffic and robots every 200 metres or so. I was heading for the Edmonds to Kingston Ferry and with fortune on my side, I arrived just in time to pay my fare and board the boat.

The crossing was, at 30 minutes, was just long enough to have a coffee and muffin, and then it was back on the road. This road was initially a mirror image of the morning’s road. Then once clear of the malls, it changed to a fast, busy 2-lane highway.

Eventually, I turned off this onto a smaller road and this was a fund end to the day’s ride. I arrived at Carol’s house mid-afternoon, and it was a pleasant change to stop early and relax.

Friday 27 Sep 2024

After a great night’s sleep, a breakfast of eggs and sausage, set me up for the day. I was heading for Oregon and Highway 101, running down the Pacific NW coast. I had been told 100 times how amazing this route was and that I had to do it; I was about to find out the truth.

The road initially was just a road, then I joined HW 101, and things took a decided turn for the better. It was fast, smooth with sweeping bends running through deep pine forests. The only problem was the sun creating shadows and glare which sometimes made the road difficult to see.

The first part of the “coast” road didn’t reveal much of the sea, and my route took me off 101 for a while. Then, as I approached Astoria, I saw this amazing bridge. The Astoria-Megler Bridge connects Washington State to Oregon and measures 6,5 km (4,1 miles). It really is a sight to behold.

After crossing a second bridge, I stopped for coffee at a place strangely, since I was now on the west coast, called East Coast Eats 🤔. Shortly afterwards, it was on to 101 proper, and the promises were not hollow.

The road follows the coast and winds along going up and down as the land rises and falls. It is smooth and the curves are mostly gradual (ish). The views of the sea are sometimes fleeting, but always impressive; it’s like Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way on steroids. There are frequent lay-bys where you can pull over to take in the view, because trying to do so whilst riding is, to say the least, hazardous.

My stop for the night was a little place called Bay View. It has nothing really to recommend it, although, I was told, it’s a great place to have fish and chips (The Fish Pedler) and to watch the sunset.

It also has an, apparently renowned, place that makes beef jerky and smoked sausage, so I visited this and in the process of taking a shortcut through a ditch, I got my feet soaked.

I sat outside the Fish Pedlar for a while, having a beer and some garlic bread, and trying to dry out my socks and shoes, before ordering my fish and chips. The liquor licence of the Fish Pedler requires that you can openly buy alcohol with food – hence the garlic bread. 🤷🏻

Finally, I had my fish and chips while watching the sunset. The sunset was nothing special and the fish a serous disappointment, proving that not all recommendations can be believed. It was time for coffee and bed.

Saturday 28 Sep 2024

Before leaving the campsite I had a long chat with Ray, a cyclist who was staying next to me. He had ridden from Arizona and had been to Yellowstone, across the Great Divide and was now, sort of, on his way back home.

Today I had a 250 km ride along the coast towards Reedsport. I had no specific destination in mind as I couldn’t find a suitable campground, so I ended up sitting in a carpark trying to find one.

Ray and I had agreed to meet for breakfast nearby, but when I got there it was closed. So was the next place I tried, and the third had a long queue of people waiting outside. Not one for queueing, I headed off hungry and didn’t find solace until the only policeman I have spoken to on my trip, directed me to the local Chamber of Commerce in Tillamook, where they were giving out free coffee as part of a special kids day in the town.

The ride down the coast road continued to stun and I finally reached Reedsport where I had to make my big accommodation decision. I settled on a campground and headed off, only to change my mind as I passed Umpqua Lighthouse Campground, a different campground altogether.

In spite of the “Campsite Full” sign, I chanced my arm and entered, asking the hosts if I could camp. Whilst the hostess was a bit hesitant, the host was quite willing to let me use a “Hike & Bike” site. These “Hike and Bike” sites are just big enough for a small tent and aimed, obviously, at people on foot or on a bike, as opposed to being in an RV. “We haven’t been told specifically that motorcyclists can’t use them,” he said, “we can just plead ignorance”. “I suppose it’ll be OK,” she said. My case was helped by a very friendly co-camper, who I later discovered was called Susan Finch.

The site was along a narrow steep path that I was reluctant to take my bike down. Fortunately, Susan, with her husband Tom, were parked at the top of the path and she offered to let me leave the bike on their site at the back of their trailer.

Once I was established, I was invited to share a glass of wine, well a plastic cup actually as Tom and Susan had a near catastrophe, involving two 40’ trucks and the equivalent of a tank-slapper, on their way here. This resulted in everything inside the trailer being broken and a delicious aroma, according to Tom, of coffee and chocolate (powder) pervading the trailer. I mentioned that I wanted to see Redwood trees and so Susan contacted a friend who knew about these things getting me some very helpful advice.

Whilst sat at the fire, two ladies arrived, intent on camping on the Hike & Bike site. There were only two of these, and I had chosen the better one; the other didn’t really have a flat spot to put a tent, so I told them they were quite welcome to share the site I was on – some people are funny about this sort of thing and are reluctant, to put it mildly, to have others on “their” site.

This worked out very well, and after Susan and Tom retired, we went to the cheap seats, lit our own fire and spent the next hour or two getting to know each other. Julie Freider and Emma Bartel were on their own journeys of discovery, walking the Oregon Coast Trail, which is some 400 miles along the coast, solo, when they met and decided to walk a few days together.

Sunday 29 Sep 2024

I had a late start after b’fast with my two new girl friends. Even after such a short acquaintance, it was a sad parting as they are both really cool in their own way. We kept in touch and I’m happy to say, they finished their trek safely and in good spirits.

The rest of the ride along HW 101 to my next stop at Jedediah Smith Campground was petty dull really; mostly through forest with coast only visible along occasional stretches – what is visible is still spectacular. It was a hot day so when I stopped for a break and couldn’t decide what I wanted to drink, I treated myself to, what turned out to be, a mega ice-cream. 😊

Shortly after this I had my closest call ever! One of those would-be killers – I believe that everyone on the road is trying to kill me and ride accordingly – in a tin box, pulled out about 30m in front of me; hard braking and swerving had my front wheel skipping and twisting. Fortunately, he stopped ½ way and nothing was coming other way. Otherwise, it would have either been a head on collision or he would have hit me side-on, taking my leg off; neither a desirable outcome. Usually, these close encounters leave you thinking “Whew!“ for a few moments. This one had my heart pumping and adrenaline flowing for about 10 minutes afterwards; it was that close!

The Redwoods in the camp site recommended by Susan’s friend are impressive. My campsite was beside the Smith River. This was another Hike & Bike site which I secured after saying to the ranger at the gate, “Well I’m on a bike,” as he hesitated when I asked for a H&B site. “I suppose you are,” he replied, “I don’t see any reason why you can’t use one.” So I paid $7 instead of $28 for my few square metres of ground.

When I went for some firewood a bit later, the camp host – a civilian – had some difficulty with this idea and tried to get me to move. I said my tent was already set up, so he relented a bit, but countered with “You can’t get your bike onto the site.” “I can,” says I, “I’ve already tried!” “No, not you can’t,” chorused he and his wife,” you’re not allowed!”

He muttered something about talking about it in the morning, so I left, deciding to leave early in the morning to avoid any further discussion.