Misery

Today was a sharp contrast to yesterday in most every respect. I awoke to find it drizzling, my little gazebo and sleeping bag sheltering me from the cold, wet world that surrounded it. As he got up and around, I realized the man I thought was another bike tourist was actually more of a vagrant with a bicycle for a cart. He wasn't riding, just pushing the bicycle overladen with all his supplies, trying to make 10 to 15 miles a day, camping wherever he could. He was headed for Brookings, 25 miles, and another 2 days for him, as his ultimate destination, having started in Everett in Februry, by bus, then foot, then foot aided by bicycle. He was an interesting and unusual fellow. I wished him well, as I headed into the rain.

The forecast was that it wasn't to last past 11. But while I kept waiting and hoping for it to clear, 11 came and went and the rain kept coming down, sometimes lighter, sometimes heavier, but nevertheless unceasing. The road was close to the coast, with some nice views of forest and the shore, and full of climbs and falls, a big climb right from the start. It would have normally seemed like worthwhile effort, and I probably would have stopped often for pictures, but the rain made it miserable, sapped all my will to stop and see anything. The downhills quickly had my pant legs entirely soaked through.

It was wretched going all the way up to Bookings, where I stopped at a Fred Meyer to pick up supplies, and more importantly get in and get dry. I sat at the cafe eating my bagel and scone and once again dabbing my gloves with copious paper towels. Thankfully it finally stopped raining while I was there. After that, the sky quickly cleared, and suddenly it was sunny, almost entirely flat, and easy going through forests and farmland. There was also nothing really to see, at least not without detouring, and at that point, while warming and drying off, I was in no mood. I just wanted to get where I was going. I passed California with some small celebration, then pressed on in relentless boredom, ready to be done.

I finally got into Crescent City and arrived at St Paul's Church where I'm staying for the night in their event area. My host, who works for the church, is quite a nice, neat older lady. She took in a cyclist a couple years ago in need of a place, became aware of Warmshowers, and has since hosted hundreds here. Coincidentally, that first cyclist she hosted is here right now, stopped in on another tour that will loop him through most of Oregon. I got a long hot shower, which I insisted on doing before anything else, even as others were starting to eat. The cyclist made gumbo, which I of course couldn't eat, but I was well provided for in rice, toast, and banana bread, as well as a mysterious substance (its packaging in Chinese) that turned out to be some sort of Jasmine curry. My host commented I must have a hollow leg because I kept eating long after others had finished. It takes fuel to ride long distances, in the rain no less. And I worry more about losing weight than anything. Many people don't seem to get that.

Tomorrow I'm taking a rest day, since it lines me up with the scheduling of my next host in Trinidad and I could also use some recovery time after today. I also wanted to take my bike in and get new tires tomorrow...but I forgot that stuff is closed in small towns on a Sunday. Sigh. I'll have to do it first thing Monday morning I guess. There are some very difficult stretches ahead on the road to San Francisco I understand, narrow shoulder, crazy drivers, and some very intense climbing along cliffsides and up mountains. This week is likely to be the most difficult of my trek, maybe of any of my travels so far. Hopefully tomorrow will get me back to feeling eager rather than dreading it.