Aberdeen, WA to Seaside, OR

Posted on July 29, 2009 by ryguy

late start

I intended to wake up at 7 AM and get an early start. It didn’t happen. I was beat from the 90+ mile day to Aberdeen, so I slept in until 9:30 AM. It wasn’t too smart considering I had another 90+ mile day to Seaside, OR. Plus, I was going to check out all filming locations for The Goonies in the town of Astoria. That would kill two hours at least.

I left Stephen’s without saying goodbye to him. It felt weird, but he insisted. I got on the bike and decided to take the shortest way possible to Astoria. That meant going partially inland and hitting more hills.

And so that was most of my morning. Big hills. It really sucked, and I could feel my knee starting to get sore. 35 miles into the morning I stopped at a McDonald’s to fill up my water bottles.

lip zit popper

I walked into the McDonald’s and made my way into the restroom. Every single person in the place stared at me. I didn’t understand. I thought cyclists in that area were a common sight. I felt like a freak show. I was filling up my third water bottle when a tall, lanky teenager walks up to the mirror and gets up really close to the mirror. I didn’t look. I knew what he was doing, and he was doing it blatantly. He was popping zits right beside me.

I was grossed out, so I tried to get out of there as quick as possible. All of a sudden, I heard a meek voice say to me, “I hate the zits that are right on your lip.”

“Oh, yeah…” I responded, not knowing if he was intentionally trying to gross me out or making conversation.

“Yeah, but I like popping them. It feels really good,” he said.

“Thanks for sharing that information,” I told him. I realized he was trying to make conversation. Really weird kid. He kept going on about it. This was perhaps one of the worst conversation pieces of the entire trip. I would rather talk about crapping in the woods without a modern toilet. Zits and pus really gross me out…especially doing it in a restaurant…and popping them right next to me.

His little brother walked up, and both of them started talking to me. They were curious about my trip. I wanted to leave, but they held me at bay with their kid questions. “Do you know where ‘blah blah blah’ is?” one of them would ask. Meanwhile, everyone in the restaurant was eavesdropping on our conversation, which also made me very uneasy.

I used the trick I learned from my European friends in New Mexico. “OK….,” I said as I backed away.

I sat outside in the heat at one of the picnic tables and ate three bagels covered with Nutella. I wanted $1 menu sandwiches, but I didn’t want to cave in every time I saw fast-food. I would quickly go broke if I did that the entire trip.

crappy coastal highway

I was excited to cycle the Washington coast for about 20 miles. It would be a nice change of pace from the previous 35 miles.

It wasn’t. I couldn’t even see the damn coast, and I had a pretty strong crosswind. I angrily cycled up and down….up and down….up and down. My knees were starting to hurt, and I was drenched in sweat. The Washington coast was bullshit, and I questioned whether this route was worth it. It went on and on like this for a few hours.

I had to keep my eyes on the prize, and that prize was Astoria, the primary setting of The Goonies. To lift my spirits, I drew a picture of Sloth and his famous line ’Heyyy Youuu Guyyys’. Drivers loved it. I actually got stopped a few times just so people could take a picture of the sign. One guy named Ryan stopped in the middle of the highway and parked his car just to take a picture. He started snapping pictures, and I said to him, “Uh, there’s a few cars coming at 60 mph behind you.”

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed. He was so focused on my sign that he had evidently forgotten he parked his car in the middle of the road.

I cycled up to Dismal Point to get a few pictures of the massive bridge I would have to cycle to get to Astoria. It was pretty intimidating, and it would be the longest bridge I have cycled.

roy western

I was admiring the view. I couldn’t believe I was looking at the ‘goon docks’. A gentleman by the name of Roy Western walked up and said, “Your sign?”

“Yep, that’s my sign,” I said laughing. I knew he had no clue what the hell it meant. I had a picture of a retarded looking guy on the board. Who knew what Roy thought of me.

We got to talking about my trip and the coast. He was pretty taken in by my story, but in the back of my head, I was thinking, “Damn…I’m way behind schedule.” Whatever. I’ll make it to my destination. I’ll just take a few minutes of my time and enjoy talking to him.

And that I did. I walked to his car and gave him my blog address, and he gave me his business card. I really enjoy when people tell me that my trip is inspiring. That alone reminds me that I should revere every minute of the trip. The good and the bad.

I went into the restroom to fill up my water bottles. Hot bathroom water poured into them. Great. I walked back out to my bike and plopped them into the cages. As I turned around, Roy was walking up. I greeted him again, and he said to me, “You were a little too quick for me, but I wanted to give you this.” It was a wad of cash.

“What!? No no. I can’t accept that,” I said, blown away by his hospitality to a total stranger.

“No. I want you to have it,” he said. I couldn’t believe it. It was a huge high for me. I had already felt pretty good just from talking to him, but this was icing on the cake. I let him know how much it meant to me and said goodbye once more. He walked back to his car, and I got back on the bicycle. I looked down at the wad and unfolded it. $40. Holy shit. Unreal.

I think back to that moment and I am still touched. Very cool. Thanks Roy.

goonies never say die

I cycled across the bridge into Astoria. It was a monster, but people gave me room on the incredibly small shoulder. Most of the drivers were laughing and pointing at my sign, and a good chunk of them looked back and waved. The end of the bridge treated me with a huge incline.

Astoria was covered in a thick fog. It was just as I had pictured it. I made my way to the county jail where one of the Fertelli brothers escaped in the first few minutes of the movie.

And here’s a shot of me at the museum where Mikey’s Dad worked.

Finally, it was time for the crown jewel of film locations: the Goonies’ house. After going up a few ridiculously steep hills, I was pointed in the right direction of the house by a citizen of Astoria. After a few more hills, I made it to 368 38th Street. This sign welcomed me.

I was worried the owners of the house would not want visitors walking up to the property and taking pictures. The sign brought a smile to my face along with a huge sigh of relief. I had cycled long and hard to get here.

I celebrated by doing Chunk’s truffle shuffle in front of Mikey’s house.

I also did a few handstand shots, one of which resulted in me falling down and rolling down the driveway 10 feet. Stupid. I felt like Chunk.

I also stomped and pouted in Data’s driveway. This was where Brandon stole Data’s sister’s pink girly bike to catch up to the Goonies.

Just above me was the “window” that Data flew out of to get into Mikey’s house on a zipline. That scene was filmed from another house in Astoria.

I saw one of the tenants of the house climb outside one of the upstairs windows. I thanked them and made my way down the driveway. I ran into a few more Goonies fans who took a picture of my bike board.

racing the sun…again

I made my way back through town and to another huge bridge. Josh, another Astoria citizen, cycled up behind me and yelled, “Heyyyy youuuuu guyyyyys!” I turned around and he asked me if I was about to cycle the bridge. We got to talking, and he said he was thinking about cycling into traffic.

I told him I would be scared as shit. Riding against traffic has been statistically proven to be much more hazardous. I told him good luck, and he took off.

In the middle of the bridge, he hopped off his bike and ran into the middle of the road. What the hell was he doing?! A car was flying straight at him, and I was yelling, “No no no no!” No one heard me of course. Josh was throwing a dead sea otter off the road into the ocean. The car slammed on brakes. I wasn’t sure if rescuing road kill was worth becoming road kill.

I was pushing hard along the Oregon coast to get to Becky’s house. Highway 101 in Oregon was a huge departure from the Highway 101 in Washington. I could actually see and hear the ocean. Another 20 miles and I finally pulled up to Becky’s house.

clay barrettes

As soon as I cycled up to the house, Becky offered me salad and pizza. I started talking to her about couch surfing. Her daughter had used it in Europe and told her parents it would be a good idea for them to sign up. I asked Becky how her son felt about it, since he still lived there. “You know, he’s really uncomfortable with it and doesn’t like it. It surprises me that he’s so conservative,” she said.

I soon found out how much he doesn’t like it. Her son Matthew walked into the kitchen. “And this is my son Matthew,” she said. Matthew nodded at me and walked by. No handshake. No verbal confirmation. He walked right by me to the washing machine.

Piercing, awkward silence filled the room. It was bad energy. I didn’t like it. “Hey Matthew…My name’s Ryan,” I said. He looked at me and nodded. No ‘nice to meet you’ or ‘where are you from’. He was incredibly cold to me, and I knew Becky noticed. I felt unwelcome and wanted to leave the room. He walked by again and left us in silence.

Becky had a lot of work to do before the market the next day. She made pretty amazing clay barrettes, but she didn’t seem to be confident in her work. I looked at a lot of her stuff, and she was obviously a very skilled craftsman. She told me that her barrettes were a tough sell in Astoria, home to Oregon’s second-largest farmers’ market. I guess barrettes weren’t in fashion.

I said goodnight to Becky and went to sleep in their camper outside. I still felt uneasy, although Becky was incredibly generous, warm, and hospitable.

Seattle, WA to Aberdeen, WA

Posted on July 29, 2009 by ryguy

squatter leaves seattle

I had been staying at Heather’s for a week and felt incredibly sedentary. The bicycle was calling my name, and I was getting antsy being off of it for so long. I said goodbye to Heather and David the previous night because they had to leave the next morning to North Carolina. I got emotional saying goodbye to Heather, but I masked my tears with a big stupid smile. I cried myself to sleep that night.

Heather’s cats didn’t care I that was leaving. I had accidentally stepped on Anchovy twice in one day, and she remembered it. She wanted nothing to do with me.

I decided to take the ferry out to Bremerton and bypass all the congestion south of Seattle. I didn’t want to deal with anymore roads like Highway 99.

dan and robert

Two general contractors named Dan and Robert introduced themselves while I was sitting down in the ferry, and we started talking about bike touring. Dan was hitting 50 and going through a divorce. He told me he needed a change and wanted do the Pacific coast down to Chile. He told me he was inspired by my story and was getting excited about the idea of doing a big cycling trip.

Robert was a carpenter that worked with Dan. He flies to Norway every year to coach volleyball. I wasn’t sure if he was too interested in the bicycle talk, so I asked him about Norwegian women…if they were as ‘smoking hot’ as the Swedish women. A good male bonding subject.

The ferry approached the dock, so we all left the commons area. As I was going back down to my bicycle, Robert handed me an origami flower. Before giving it to me, he said, “I normally give this to girls I meet, but…” I guess he thought I was a cute girl with pretty eyes. I wanted to give him a kiss on the cheek and giggle.

bye hi bye

I got back to my bicycle and saw two tandem touring cyclists from Germany. I spoke to them briefly before being directed off the ferry. I told them goodbye.

A few minutes later, I cycled up behind them. “Looks like we’re taking the same route,” I said, followed by a forced laugh. They forced laughter as well. We sat at the red light waiting for it to turn green. Awkward. An occasional sniffle and cough broke the silence. The light turned green. Off they went, but they were slow up the hill. I followed them not wanting to pass and say hello again, but they were only a few feet ahead of me and grinding it out in their lowest gear.

A few miles later, they finally turned off to eat. I passed them and waved goodbye.

flat

I was cycling out of Bremerton along an incredibly congested highway, and the shoulder was littered with debris. It reminded me of all the crap on the shoulder cycling into Houston. A few minutes later, I felt my wheel making heavy thuds. I looked down. Shit. Completely flat. I was stuck on a small shoulder as two lanes of 70 mph traffic whizzed by. I walked my bike to some crappy construction, looked at my bike, and laughed. It was going to be a long day. I had about 85 miles to cycle, and it was noon.

I had a lot of trouble getting the tire off my new rim. With my old rim, I could easily peel the tire with my bare hands. This rim was a lot deeper and thicker. I struggled with it in the piercing heat. The sound of traffic was really starting to piss me off. It was deafening.

45 minutes later, I had the tube replaced. I hopped back on the bike and went on my way. My entire route that day would cut through the Olympic peninsula and put me on the coast in Aberdeen, home of Kurt Cobain. I was trying to get to the Pacific as quickly as possible, but the day was filled with big ups and big downs…constantly. It was never flat.

I had to stop for lunch. Otherwise, I was about to have a meltdown. Food is the one thing I really look forward to while cycling. The place I chose was a generic diner called ’Burgers’. I guess the owners couldn’t take a few minutes to think of a creative name.

a few firsts

I had a few ’firsts’ happen to me on this ride. As I was cycling through Shelton, two guys offered me cigarettes out the window. On my way past a bus stop, a guy with a stoma and voice box hollered out to me in his robot voice, “Nice bike!” I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. I looked back. Sure enough there was an old guy holding his throat. Lastly, on my way into Aberdeen, a redneck guy with two babes in his truck drove as close as he could to me pulling up to a red light. He was trying to brush me with his side view mirror. The girls were laughing it up inside. I pretended like I didn’t notice. I didn’t want to appease his ego.

aberdeen

Ben and Shannon, Heather’s friends in Seattle, had warned me that Aberdeen was kind of shitty. They weren’t lying. Kurt Cobain couldn’t have come from any other place. It was about 8 PM by the time I cycled into town. I had pushed hard the entire way. The town was very industrial, and I could picture it being a very somber town in the middle of winter. Cloud-covered and rainy. Evidently, the town doesn’t take much pride in being home to one of the greatest musicians. I guess he crapped on the town in a lot of his lyrics. However, there was a ’Come as you are’ sign on the bridge coming into town.

Stephen, my couch surfing host for the night, wouldn’t be home until midnight. He was a wine steward at one of the local restaurants. I walked into his apartment. The first thing I noticed was the full collection of Will and Grace. Then I saw neatly design walls and cupboards. Plus he was incredibly clean. I put two and two together. I felt smart.

Sara, Stephen’s friend from upstairs, invited me upstairs for a margarita before a few of her friends got home. Half tequila, half margarita mix. I was hit hard because I had nothing in my stomach. Sara then unloaded all of her drama onto me. Her and the husband had recently gotten into an argument. All I could do was nod and say, “Yeah…whoah…wow…yeah.” We spoke a little bit about the war and socialized health care. I didn’t want to, but somehow we got onto that subject.

Stephen finally got home. I quickly found out he was pretty brash. “I have a large carbon footprint. I don’t recycle. I litter. And I eat a lot of meat,” he told me as he flicked a cigarette into the street. That action quickly turned me off. I didn’t care if he ate meat, but to blatantly throw trash in the street was laziness. But then he totally redeemed himself when he told me he loved PeeWee’s Big Adventure, The Three Amigos, and The Goonies.

And then he made fun of my other favorites. He was a huge critic of every cheesy action movie I liked. Fifth Element. The Matrix. 300. He started talking about all of the dramas he really enjoyed, and I zoned out. Stephen was quite the character, and I enjoyed talking to him.

Before crashing on the air mattress, Stephen said, “I probably won’t see you in the morning. Don’t feel like you have to wait for me to get up and thank me. I don’t really care about any of that.” Damn. This guy was unapologetic with everything he said. I liked it, but I still wanted to see him in the morning to thank him. Maybe even kiss him.

Coupeville, WA to Seattle, WA

Posted on July 24, 2009 by ryguy

sad goodbye

I was pretty sad to say goodbye to my friends at Willowood Farm. I let them know, but they all laughed at me. Pointed and laughed. But then they saw I was serious and told me they’d miss me too.

I cycled 30 miles to the ferry at Clinton that would take me to Mukilteo. On the way, I saw a sign that still leaves me confused.

I got off at the beach in Mukilteo and dedicated my broccoli wrap message to my good farming friends. I added an extra ‘W’. I hope they do not take offense.

warm welcome to seattle

I got on a road called Mukilteo Speedway which would later turn into Highway 99. The name of the road had ‘speedway’ in it. Not a good sign. As soon as I got on this road, I got flicked off by a guy in a truck who tried intimidating me by putting his side view mirror right next to me. I succumbed to his hostility by flicking him off and waving all in the air while smiling. At least I was smiling and staying somewhat positive.

Highway 99 was crap. Strip malls and big chains paired with lots of traffic. I hated it. It was my only option to getting to my friend Heather’s place. After an hour or two of riding on Highway 99, I finally made it to her home in Ballard, a neighborhood northwest of Seattle.

Heather and her boyfriend David work at a game company called Popcap. They were having a BBQ at the beach that night and invited me to come along. I ate about four bratwursts and two kabobs. I couldn’t stop eating, so I tried to do it stealthily. I didn’t want anyone noticing I was a pig. And then I heard Heather say out loud, “Damn dude! How much have you eaten?” I recoiled, burying my head in the sand like an ostrich.

birthday blowout. holler if you hear me.

Heather’s sister Melissa came into town for her birthday. Heather, being the nice sister she is, paid for Melissa’s trip out. She treated me and Melissa to breakfast and showed us around the locks.

Salmon swam by through the locks to make babies upstream.

Heather and David treated us to some sushi as well. I’ve had bad experiences with sushi. Unfortunately it tends to come back up through my mouth and lands in a toilet. Crystal, Melissa’s high school friend, offered me a few of her baby’s organic chewy bars. At first, I thought she was making fun of me for not eating sushi. After the third offer, I realized she was serious. I finally caved and ate one of them. It was good, and I don’t regret it.

rafting the skokomish and watching people drown

Heather had been planning a rafting trip since early June and offered me a rafting spot when I was cycling in the Tetons. So the rafting crew was me, Heather, David, Melissa, and Heather’s co-worker Rachel. Rachel and Melissa were nervous…biting their nails as butterflies tore up their stomachs. I reassured them that someone would fall in, and it would probably be one of them.

The first few rapids went very well. The crew was getting cocky, so Shane, our rafting guide, continued to warn us about Boulder Drop, the class 5 rapid. It was halfway through the ride when we made our approach to Boulder Drop. Shane led us out of the raft and onto shore where we scouted out the rapid. We stood on a rock as he went into a huge amount of detail on what we’d be doing. He started by saying, “OK, see that rock over there. The big one getting covered by water? We’re going to go through…”

I couldn’t focus on what he was saying because I was still trying to find the rock he was talking about. Oh. There it was.

I focused back on what he was saying. “…Then we’re going to do a 180, cut back to the left before the Picket Fence…”

I tried finding Picket Fence…whatever the hell that was. “…And then we’ll go out the middle, nice and easy,” he said as he finished his explanation. What? I had no clue what was going on. I nodded. We all walked back to the boat. I was sure someone was going to fall in. Who was it going to be?

We pushed off and made our way into the rapid. Bam. We conquered the first little rapid with ease. And then all hell broke loose aboard our vessel. We got pulled towards a rock and the right side of our boat started to get sucked under the water. Everyone started to roll towards the right side of the raft.

Plunk. There went David into the water. Plunk. There went Rachel into the water. I was watching on in horror and smiling at the same time. A sadistic side of me was enjoying the chaos that was going on. Another side of me made me want to pee my pants.

The raft was at a 70 degree angle and about to flip. Melissa was about to go in head first, but Heather grabbed her life jacket and yanked her back in. I was scrambling back up to the airborne side of the boat trying to keep it from flipping. It felt like the end of Titanic when everyone was running to the nose of the boat. Shane was behind me trying to stay calm, but I could hear fear in his voice. I was still smiling stupidly.

The boat did not flip. Success. I think having Rachel and David fall out saved my ass. Shane was yelling out commands, but Heather and Melissa were still huddled together at the front freaking out. I repeated what Shane said, but it was hitting deaf ears. We eventually crawled our way out of the rapid, and Heather and Melissa calmed down, grabbed their oars, and dug them deep into the water. Meanwhile, Shane was multi-tasking…giving us rowing orders and performing a rescue on David. Rachel was a lost cause. I saw her red helmet bobbing up and down on the other side of the rapid.

Shane pulled in David, whose lungs were full of water. Shit. I had to wipe this stupid grin off my face before anyone noticed. We finally made it out of the rapid, but Rachel was nowhere to be seen. Shane yelled out, “Where is she? Does anyone see her?”

“We got her!” another raft leader yelled out. She was sprawled out face down on the bottom of the other raft. Meanwhile, David was coughing up half of the water in the Skykomish. Heather tried talking to him, asking him if he was OK. “Give me…a minute,” he said as water still spilled out his mouth.

We paddled over to the raft Rachel was in. She didn’t look happy. And she was drinking a bottle of water. Didn’t she just drink enough water? After a few minutes of awkward, dead silence, she clumsily climbed into our raft. I tried to turn the moment positive. “Hey, at least you have a story to tell,” I said smiling. Woops. Her face red and her eyes bloodshot, Rachel burred her head into her life jacket and pulled down her hat. She looked like a turtle hiding from something.

“I almost freaking died,” she stuttered as she started to tear up. I wanted to tell her she didn’t almost die. She had a life jacket on and wasn’t going anywhere. Well. I guess she could’ve died and continued to float.

“I’m sorry. That will not happen again. I promise you,” Shane said. He felt terrible, and I felt terrible for him. The boat next to us was still silent, until their raft leader splashed water on her and yelled, “You’ve been baptized by the Skykomish. Rise!” He looked at me and whispered, “Is she smiling?” I shook my head. Feeling like an idiot, he sat back down and led his raft away from ours.

After a few more minutes, Shane said, “We’ll give you however much time you need…OK?”

“Whatever…let’s just go,” she said as she sniffled her snot away. I felt bad for Shane. It continued to be awkward. But I was enjoying and revering the awkwardness of it.

There were no complaints out of David. I was impressed. Would he break down afterward, running into the woods and weeping? We would see.

The next 30 minutes were somber. Shane didn’t tell any more jokes. Eventually, conversation started back up and everything went back to normal. Shane gave me the captain’s seat in the back of the raft for the last two rapids. After scraping against a few rocks, Rachel yelled, “Shane, could you please guide?” Damn. What an insult. I thought I was doing pretty good. It wasn’t my fault the water was low. At least people weren’t doing nose dives into the cold ass water.

The rafting trip ended with no deaths. I was jealous of David and Rachel. She told her story the next week at work. Like I said to her, she ‘had a tale to tell.’ I just didn’t tell her she was my tale too…and I didn’t have to fall in.

cycling in seattle

Melissa, Heather, and I cycled down to the Gas Works area along Salmon Bay.

Heather rolled down a hill. Everyone stared.

Melissa kept taking pictures of everything. Oh, there’s a person. *snap* Oh, there’s a boat. *snap* She was worse than the Japanese people I saw in Banff National Park. Really.

We met up with David and ate Pho, an Asian dish with lots of noodles and vegetables. $5 for a huge bowl. David bet me $20 to drink the entire bowl filled with hot sauce. I felt like a frat boy. A frat boy that was $20 richer.

arm wrestling

Later that evening, David brought up the fact that he thought Melissa and Heather were probably stronger than he was. I told him I didn’t think they were, so I suggested they arm wrestle.

David was nervous at first. He didn’t think he could win. David locked arms with Melissa, and their arms stood surprisingly stood still in the middle for about 5 seconds. Then David bested her.

David then took on Heather. It was the same result. After he won, he stood up and threw his arms in the air in victory. Pretty funny thing to celebrate.

David, confident in his arm wrestling ability, challenged me to combat. Great. My arms were incredibly weak. T-rex weak.

I won. David’s confidence was shattered.

dodgeball

Heather invited me to go with her to a dodgeball game. Sure. We drove to the Boys & Girls Club gymnasium. Whoah…these people were hardcore. I saw all these young people warming up, throwing balls around, and stretching. Inside, there were two games going on. I actually got butterflies watching everyone play. All the young players were really intense. I saw one guy with a green wristband holding two balls at once. He was knocking away incoming balls with ease and leaping over others. I imagined me out there, unable to throw a ball 5 feet with my weak, childlike arms.

Our team was up. I let the other guys go first, since it was their team after all. I watched on with an anxiety-filled stomach. I didnt want to let the team down. Our team lost the first round, and I was up.

It went well. I was knocking out old, overweight women left and right with ease. I hit a few guys too. Out of all the rounds, I was only hit once. All that anxiety over nothing.

hi friend

I cycled a few miles to meet up with my friend Kathryn, the sister of Elizabeth (from Willowood). She shared some of her stories hiking the AT and updated me on what was going on with her life. The hours turned to minutes, and we had to part ways. Kathryn insisted on being a Japanese tourist giving peace signs. I don’t know who gave her that idea.

Jeremy, my dear beautiful friend from Atlanta who was also Eoin’s old roomate, was in town on his way to a wedding on Whidbey Island. You guys might remember Jeremy from Apocalypse Briggs as The Kid. Or maybe not.

I snuck up to him at a bar and surprised him with a big, long hug. I didn’t want to let him go. I drank a beer with him and his friends and shared stories. It was good to see that bearded face of Jeremy’s once more. Jeremy and Patricia had to leave early, so he was ripped out of my life again.

you got browned…four times

Before my last day in Seattle, I had cooked four boxes of brownies. Heather and David were sick of them, but I continued to force them down their throats.

Yo David and Heather! You got BROWNED!

White Rock, BC to Coupeville, WA

Posted on July 21, 2009 by ryguy

border crossing

I woke up outside on the futon looking up at a clear, blue sky. I went inside for 10 minutes and came back out to an overcast, gray sky. What just happened? Mike and Michelle told me it was normal for the area.

I said goodbye to the crew and headed for the border a few miles away. People told me that getting into Canada was easy…getting back was another story. US border agents at the Canadian border were infamous for being huge jerks. I wondered if I would encounter an asshole.

I cycled up to the pedestrian entrance at the border and went inside the office. A border agent went outside and searched my bags. He came back in and called me back up with a menacing look in his face. His superior was standing next to him. I looked down at his hand. Shit. My bag of fruit. I forgot I was carrying it. You can’t bring fruit and vegetables across the border. If you are carrying fruits or veggies without informing the border agent, it’s an automatic $300 fine. No no no. I had butterflies. I couldn’t afford that.

His superior asked, “You know you can’t bring this stuff across the border?”

Gulp. “Sorry about that,” I said in a meek voice.

“Well don’t be sorry! Know the rules,” he forcibly said to me as he walked off. Luckily, I received no fine since it was my first time crossing the border back into the US. Whew.

back to cheap food

I was happy to be back in the US. I was getting sick of getting ripped off in BC by restaurants and grocery stores. 30% instant markdown as soon as I crossed the border. I celebrated by stopping at a Little Caesar’s 20 miles into Washington in the town of Ferndale. I ordered a large pepperoni pizza and ate it in about 5 minutes.

My first day of riding in Washington was fantastic. All of the buildings in the small coastal towns were uniform and made of brick. Everyone was out walking around town, and the towns were void of any huge chains. I rode along Chuckanut Ridge, a hilly highway in a forest southwest of Bellingham.

racing the sun

I stopped to call some cyclist contacts I had in Mt. Vernon, 25 miles away. Failure. I had been calling them for a few days and kept having trouble reaching them. Oh well. I’ll leap frog my destination and give Elizabeth a call. She was a friend that I grew up with in Georgia. Elizabeth had contacted me a few days ago letting me know that her couch in Coupeville, WA was open to ugly, tired cyclists from Georgia. She also said I could help out around the organic farm she lived/worked on.

I was happy that she picked up the phone. She told me to come on by. I looked at my map. I would have to do 50+ miles before it got dark. I was up for the challenge.

Before I left the Chuckanut area, I ran into two tourists enjoying the view at a cliff overlook. I talked to them a while about my travels and shared a few of the stories. They were really appreciative that I took the time to talk to them even though I had a pretty tough goal before sundown. Mary and Jim gave me a few snacks, including the coolest chocolate bar ever.

Coupeville was located on Whidbey Island. I would have to cycle out to a peninsula on the coast and cross over the water through Deception Pass State Park. A very cool area. Unfortunately, all of my electronics were dead or near-dead. GPS. Phone. Camera. Sorry…no beautiful picture of the sun setting on the Pacific.

I got to the farmhouse just as the remaining ambient light was fading. I can’t believe I made it in such a short time. I had pushed hard for the past 4.5 hours without a break longer than 10 seconds.

willowood farm

I was pumped to see a familiar face from Georgia. I felt a little bit more grounded as I spent time talking to Elizabeth and her boyfriend Kevin that night. Both of them had hiked the entire Appalachian Trail in six months consecutively. It was a huge accomplishment, and I was eager to hear some of their stories about the trail and how it changed them.

They told me about a few of the good things people did for them along the way and all of the characters they encountered. Their story was awfully similar to mine. Kevin said, “We found out that we really enjoyed meeting the people…that’s what defined the places moreso than the geography.” Sounded familiar. I have been telling people the same thing. Eoin summed it up nicely by saying this in one of his previous posts:

The fun and memorable part of travel is the experiences you have along the way – the people, the problems, and the challenges.

farm tour

Kevin and Elizabeth had the day off, so they took the time to give me a tour of the farm. Georgie, the farm owner, lets interns stay in the upstairs portion of the farmhouse, which happens to be a ‘historic structure’ of the Ebey Land’s area. Ebey’s Landing is the nation’s first historical reserve, created in 1978 to protect a rural working landscape and community on Central Whidbey Island. It’s home to Washington’s second oldest town, Coupeville.

Not long into the tour, I met Bill, the master of farming machinery. Kevin warned me that Bill would invite me to go sailing. Sure enough, Bill asked if I was up for sailing. It was an invitation I openly welcomed. We made plans to go the next day around 5 PM and grill up some food on the boat.

garlic party…throw your hands up in the air

Georgie was throwing a huge garlic cleaning party that night for any volunteers that would come. Beer and pizza were provided. Kevin did the manliest thing a farmer could do: bake brownies.

We watched possibly one of the worst movies I have seen on this trip. Trust me…I’ve seen some terrible movies along the way. Charles, Georgie’s husband, wanted to watch it pretty badly. No one had the heart to step up and tell him it was not very entertaining. The name of the movie was The Commitments, an early 90s comedy about the formation of an Irish soul group. I’m surprised I even remember the plot line without having to google it. I think I enjoyed cleaning garlic more.

After this huge cinematic letdown, Run Fat Boy Run was placed into the DVD player. I voted for Flight of the Navigator. Willow, Elizabeth and Kevin’s roommate, was the only one who had my back. We were both shut down. Run Fat Boy Run ended up being pretty good though.

intern for a day

I decided to help out around the farm for the day and try to learn a few things about working on a big organic farm. The day’s chores included weeding all the onion rows and planting a bunch of seedlings. It was a pretty tough day, but the weather was quite nice.

We all passed the time by reminescing about really bad 90s bands and singing their lyrics. Third Eye Blind killed about 30 minutes for us.

I’m packed and I’m holding,
I’m smiling, she’s living, she’s golden and
she lives for me, She says she lives for me,
Ovation, She’s got her own motivation,
she comes round and she goes down on me…
I want something else, to get me through this,
Semi-charmed kind of life,
I want something else,
I’m not listening when you say, Good-bye.

And then Smash Mouth killed another 30 minutes. It was the same song Eoin and I obsessed over during our ride in east Texas, and now it was haunting me again. I couldn’t remember the tune or the lyrics until Willow saved me.

And then we made a really stupid rap about broccoli. Kevin was wrapping a row of broccoli seedlings back toward the ‘planters’ (Elizabeth, Willow, and I), and it spawned the worst rap song of all time:

Do the broccoli wrap, wrap, wrap, wrap,
Don’t put them on the map, map, map, map
Put them in the soil to make them feel royal,
So they will not boil, cook them in oil,
Do not toil, do the broccoli wrap, wrap, wrap, wrap.

captain ryan

I was pretty excited to get to Bill’s sailboat which was docked in Coupeville. After working a few more hours outside, we made our way to the docks. His boat was pretty incredible…43 feet with well-maintained wooden structure. Willow got started on the salmon while the rest of us drank beer.

Eventually Bill got drunk and wanted to go sit inside. He appointed me as Captain. I appointed a farm day-worker, Eric, to be my first mate. Tucker was my second mate. Kevin wanted to commit mutiny. I think he was jealous of my position. I sent him towards the front to swab the deck. I would have no dissent on my boat. To speak in such a way was treason.

I became cocky in my Captain position and yelled, “TACK! TAAAAAAAAACK!” Bill came up wondering what the hell we were doing. I didn’t know, so I blamed Kevin, the true experienced sailor. We told Bill we were tacking to change our direction, and he showed us idiots how to change the sail. We tacked successfully, and I felt like a new man.

After relaxing in the hull of the boat for a while, Bill came up and asked, “OK, what idiot wants to steer the boat now?” I volunteered Elizabeth for the job, for I was no idiot.

Another guy named Nate that had worked on the farm that day was also hanging out on the boat with us. We told him about our broccoli song, and out of nowhere he shared a long rap song that he wrote about parsley. Weird, creepy coincidence. His rap was definitely cooler.

We eventually got back to the docks and left Bill at the docks with the boat. He went out to anchor in the water and fell asleep.

Life is Real Good

Cycling through Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos

Category Archives: Washington

Aberdeen, WA to Seaside, OR

Seattle, WA to Aberdeen, WA

Coupeville, WA to Seattle, WA

White Rock, BC to Coupeville, WA