On the Road Again

It was about 4 in the morning when I woke up to go the bathroom, after spending a wonderful, but perhaps Ill advised evening drinking with my good friend Erin, that the realization I was embarking on my adventure down the coast today really hit me like a sobering blow to the face. I may have left my home in Seattle Thursday morning, but since then I'd been doing nothing but hanging out with one of my best friends, playing games, drinking beer, eating pizza, and getting her dog outside...not exactly anything to physically or mentally prepare for the complete change in my lifestyle about to start. I was jittery for a time, unable to sleep, my mind suddenly flooded with all the worries and doubts I'd tucked aside, wondering if I was really ready. Until finally, I worried myself back into a fitful sleep.

But when I woke up and found all the waiting over at last, getting myself around to finally actually go, the tension of anticipation slipped away into the reality of procedure. I've done this before, and I can do this again. It's not the distance from here to LA, it's the distance of each day, one stop at a time. Before I knew it, the time to go had come. There was a wonderful moment of coming full circle, having arrived at Erin's at the end of my last journey, now leaving from there for the beginning of this one. And with her and her military husband about take leave in Nebraska and then move to Camp Pendleton, the both of us now stood on the verge of becoming vagabonds in our own ways, both bound for California by our own route and in our own time.

Then goodbyes were over, and just like that I was on the road and again. I think by virtue of my short, lightly-packed trip to Vancouver, I had somewhat deluded myself into thinking the biking was going to be easier than it actually is, managed to forget just how heavy and difficult hauling my trailer really is. It's like waking up one day to realize you've somehow grown a fifty pound ass during the night, and now you have to figure out the process of getting around all over again. But still, before long it was all coming back to me, and I was riding along the highway singing my eclectic mix of "biking songs", sore, but having a good time.

All said, this was a very easy day of outset, from Bangor to my stop along Chicken Coop Road outside of Sequim, only 45 miles, only 2100 feet up and down, gorgeous weather, no rain, a nice shoulder, an excellent host to stay with at the end up of the road. It was easy enough I was happy to make a couple mile detour to the cute little town of Port Gamble, and when I got lost reaching my host, I wasn't even that frustrated by it. ...Things are going to get much harder before long. But hey, one day at a time, right?

I had the honor and the privilege to be my host's first guest. Though you'd think he'd been doing it for years. He's a remarkable man of many hats, a musician, writer, naturalist, builder, former employee of NOAA. He made me to feel right at home right away. Amongst that multitude of hats is also that of a chef, and he cooked me a great vegetarian dinner. He provided good conversation over food and beer and showed me his gorgeous self-built home and property. He has ambitions to turn some of his land into a campground for cyclists coming through, and I have no doubt that it will be up and going before long. The best part of touring really is meeting all the amazing people on the way.

It should be another easy day tomorrow, even shorter than today, a quick jaunt to Port Angeles. Then the real adventure will begin.