Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Pomeroy

Getting to Pomeroy, a small town in Washington, I took the scenic way via Turner and Mare














ngo. These two "blink and you'll miss 'em" are on a road that shortcuts highway 12. Part of the road was gravel, including the steep downhill to Marengo. I knew that leaving the Marengo valley will be uphill. It was steeper than the other side. My bicycle and I enjoyed this section.

Finally, I arrived at Pomeroy, headed to the park and set up my tent without the cover, you know, to see the stars... The sprinklers came on, automatically I hope, at about 2:00 a.m. I jumped out of my sleeping bag, found the fly (cover) ran between the sprinklers, to divert them away, and the tent to complete covering it.

In the background, Robert, the other cyclist, was cussing out loud... he was not in a tent but rather under the open sided shed. He found a spot where the sprinklers did reach.

Turns out that Robert cycles all the time and on occasion for a good cause to raise money. His latest was for an 11 year old cancer patient girl. He raised $11,000!


Sunday, June 25, 2017

Oragon to Wahington

Got to meet Amanda and her mom Debbie the volunteer hosts at Deschust river while cooling my legs in the river.

A picture by Amanda of Debbie and me as sent later on.



The scenery had changed. Few trees and a huge Columbus river.
Spent the night at Roosevelt park and met Scott, the corp of Engineers park ranger.

Then, Steeve from Vermont came cycling in to the mini restaurant. Taking some of his late wife's ashes to the Pacific ocean near Portland.







Friday, June 23, 2017

Cycling East

A very interesting day. I started with maintenance; This time it's me and not the bicycle. A professional massage, 90 minutes. She took me apart and reassembled me. I can walk….

Walked to the nearby restaurant and had chicken, mashed potatoes, Greek salad (with olive oil) lettuce leaves and a type of peas which I forgot their name. It was tasty.

I started the journey eastward. There is an "historic" way, number 30, very beautiful. I arrived in a small town called Mosier pretty quickly but there was an ice cream shop. I bought a milkshake and noticed that I had ripped my cycling pants. Next to the little ice-cream parlor, there was a combination garage with a T-shirt shop. I looked inside. A nice Porsche, a 1997 Porsche bicycle and T-shirts.

Steve, the owner of the store, of Greek heritage, asked about the bamboo bike, where I was from, what route am I doing (the standard questions). Suddenly, he asks me to wait, goes to his storeroom and comes back with a pair of cycling pants he bought years ago and used only once. "I don’t use them." He said. people want to help.

Later, the forest receded and the landscape changed. Interesting day.

By the way, you see the sign that says "East"?









Thursday, June 22, 2017

Finished the first section!

The northbound section, from San Diego to Hood River is behind me!
I am now looking forward to the eastbound sections.
I have a profound sense of achievement.
This was not an easy month and a half.

I am on my way to the Rocky Mountains. I guess that this too will not be easy.

Reports to follow.


Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Sisters

So I roll into Sisters. On the way, there is a viewpoint that makes it clear why Sisters.





I got into town, Decided not to take the fancy room in the fancy lodge for $210 a night anđ entered a fine grill / bar where the food and beer were great.

After being asked about my trip, I asked if they knew about a good place to stay. Kris Jessica pickle, simultaneously took out their phones, each calling a different hotel. Those too turned out to be over my $65 to $75 budget. When I told Jessica that I found a campsite only 10km (6 miles) north, she directed me to the one just around the corner… Such nice people I get to meet.

I am now in my tent by a brook, post shower.

Good night.

Sunday, June 18, 2017

Vegetables

So hard to find. You will get lettuce and tomatoes in your burger. This not what I mean...

I got to this small motel in La Pine, Oregon, after five nights in my tent, and the receptionist told me to hurry before the Chinese restaurant closes for the night. The Mexican, he informed me is already closed.

I rush over. After a little discussion between the two waitresses, they let me in. The food was great. I had beef and, yes; wait for it, VEGETABLES! Broccoli, celery, carrots, mushrooms, and a few more that I just can't remember.

On my way out, Sin, one of the young women who let me in and helped me select my meal, and I engaged in conversation. She is from china, has a green card and is not sure yet if she wants to become an American. It makes it hard to visit her family back home in north China.

I don't know how we got to talk about time zones, but China has only one. You go to work in the morning, whenever that happens to be.

Also, when you are born, you are 1 years old. I suggested that the Arabs invented the zero many years after the Chinese had their traditions, so why change? She agreed. Is this the reason? Perhaps.

So, happy year of the Chicken (it took her time to remember, she switched to Chinese, out loud, did some counting, I guess, and announced it). The Americans, she said, would call it rooster, but in China there is no difference. One name per animal type.

I did tell her that in Hebrew Sin is how we call China.

They were closing the restaurant. We said our goodbyes.

Saturday, June 17, 2017

Snow!

Yesterday, while on my way to Crater Lake, four cyclists, on touring bicycles (panniers, sleeping bags, tents etc.) are cycling towards me. They too are doing the SierraCascades route which I’ve been cycling on from San Diego except where the roads were blocked due to snow.
They inform me that the road from Crater Lake northbound is closed, snow once again, so the only option is highway 230 to Diamond Lake which is on the planned route.
They started at Bend, my next stop, so I thought that other than that glitch, the road to bend is clear.
Just to be safe, I stopped at the information center. No roads have been reported to be closed. Great!
I guess that gravel roads are not checked. I also doubt that the four cyclists used that gravel road. Their wheels and tires would not survive this road.
As I reached the sign “paved road ends” I realized that gravel and dirt roads are ahead. My bike is an off road bike so no problem for me…the road headed uphill.
When I reached 1650 meters (5300 ft) first signs of snow appeared on the road. At 1700 (5600), the snow was 15cm (half a foot) deep. I was, according to my GPS device, 1 km (less than a mile) from the peak. So, I pushed my bike on the snow towards that peak thinking that the other side will be the same. Just push the bike downhill until the snow cover ends. At 1800 meters I hit the peak. The other side turned out to be a huge swamp. Water ankle deep (I guess, I did not approach).






Having no other option, I turned around back to Diamond Lake.
Seeing snow and walking in it, was one of the best experiences of this trip so far.
I’m happy.

Oregon

The suffix is pronounced "An" not "ON" I was told by a local. People travelling here typically say oregON she said.

Anyhow, Oregon has fewer fences, fewer "No trespassing / Stay out" posts and fewer people than California. So as friendly as the place may seem there is hardly anyone to be seen outside camp sites and towns.

Most of my trail in Oregon so far has been in the woods. From time to time I get to see the view. The pictures are of a lake I slept near to and an odd looking mountain.



Thursday, June 15, 2017

A sad story

Cycling uphill for a while, I needed to rest. I saw a turn in the road ahead of me that seemed to be a great spot to look at the view below. There was a car parked there too.

Just below me, on the slope of the mountain, a young woman, about 20 I guess, was trying to sling a rope over a branch of a tree. I saw that the branch was low and the rope was too thin to support anything, so to be sure that I am not jumping into conclusions, I waited and watched. She had not noticed me yet. Finally, she managed to get the rope over the branch and put it around her neck.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you”  I said. She threw it off and let out a cry and startled sob. “Where did you come from"? “Israel”, I said, “my name is David, and I just cycled to this point. Other than with the rope, can I help you with anything"? “No” she sobbed and begun crying. “I guess this is a bad day”, I said hoping to engage her in conversation. “What’s this about"? “It is about someone who does’t even care”. “So”,I said, “it is about love”. “And everything”, she replied. “Is there anyone you want to call"?. “No”. “Do you want to talk about it"? “No”. “Let’s go back to the car and maybe talk there” I suggested. She pushed the rope away, as if to say that she has given up on this idea; “Here, I’ll leave this here and go to my car”. She took her keys out, got into her car and looked around carefully before heading back downhill.

I took a photo of the car and called 911. Even without cellular coverage, the phone announced  “turning on radio” and the call went through. After giving all details, the operator thanked me.

On I go...no more than five minutes pass, the sheriff pulls over by my side. “Are you the guy that called in? We’ve sent someone to the address of the registration number and still looking for her”.

I hope they have found her. Alive.
I hope she realizes that she will get over this someone.
I hope she leads a happy life.
I hope.

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Randy's Tack and Saddle Repair shop

Rolling into Montague, a small town in northern California, I notice this shop and hope that the broken buckle on my saddle bag can be fixed here. It was replaced by randy, who refused to take my money....

But more important, as I walked into the store a huge smile covered my face. Randy said that he likes taking care of the cowboys and cowgirls in the area