That first night, Kyle and I went out to explore the town (he's new to Portland too.) We went to Dante's Inferno. They have a stage, 2 bars and very decent pizza. I'm glad Kyle drove because I had a few drinks beyond reasonable... Dante's Inferno had a "firery cabaret" that night, with firespinners, dancers and various beautifull perfomances. The music was also quite to my liking.

The next day I decided to explore northern Oregon, east of Portland. I took 84 along the Columbia river which is the border between Oregon and Washington state. This is a beautiful ride. There are cliffs and waterfalls; rocks that jut straight up, a sight that I am becomming more and more familiar with the further down the coast I go.
Unfortunately, I didn't stop and take any good pictures of this area. This is the best I have but these to little justice to what the eyes take in.

I followed the columbia river until I reached the Dalles, then went south. And it's a whole different country. The verdant landscape that has been prevalent so far burns out to leave place to dry grass, with only the occational green from a dry tree or bush. Hills like whipped cream line the road, dunes of hay. The mountains roll into each other as if someone pressed a mound of dough. I finally worked my way back through Mount Hood. While beautifull, it didn't strike me as exceptional. Mountains, lined with tall pine trees. Though it had been hot (very hot in fact) up until this point, as I was going through the shadow of the trees, I started wishing I had taken my gloves with me. The sky, still blue above, had let the sun drop down below the tree line, and I could really feel the elevation by the distinct drop in temperature.

I spent almost a week in portland. I met up with a dear friend of mine, Adria, that I met nine years ago at summer camp and had fallen out of touch with. She had just gotten married to a great guy, Brent. I got to stay for the rest of my stay there, in a nice comfy bed.

Behind Adria's house is a hill that holds a few of the reservoirs for Portland's water. Beyond being a nice quick hike, it has a commanding view of downtown Portland.

Despite a few efforts, I was, unfortunatly, not able to spend much time with some friends Brian had made in Portland. Perhaps at some later time we'll all meet up.

It is in Portland that I had what must be my most exceptional movie going experience. Not because the movie was particularly good (Collateral -- decent action, but predictable, I'd pass). Not because the theater was exceptional. No, it is because a fight broke out during the movie. Some guy, probably drunk or on some kind of drugs was sitting in the back and making very loud, very anoying comments about the movie (talking to actors, telling them what to do etc...) After repeated requests from the audiance to stop (or to "shut the fuck up" to be more accurate), another guy from the front warned him that if he didn't keep quite he'd beat the hell out of him. Well... the guy in the back made another comment, and the guy in the front walked up the isle, called him out and beat him up, hospital style.

Definately a first.

My overall experience of Portland is great. I like the layout of the city, it is vibrant with activity, very liberal. And the weather, while I was there, was perfect.

Of course, the day I decide to leave, it's not so good...

Leaving Portland - Oregon Coast

I woke up to a partially overcast sky. I had rained that night. I briefly considered taking the main highway through Oregon to California (a mere 5 hour drive) instead of the coastline, but, seeing as it wasn't actually raining, I opted to risk the much longer coastal ride.

I was under the idea that I would be able to make it to San Francisco that night if I pushed it. A long day, maybe 14 hours, but I've done it before. Let's just say that the states are a lot bigger on this side of the country, and I had vastly underestimated how much longer it would take me to follow the coast.

Anyway, I once more rode out to the coast and met up with 101. While I miraculously avoided the rain the whole way, the sky was gray and the see not much more than a bed of mist that often poured out onto the road. I have no pictures of that day, it was just too foggy.
So you'll have to live with discriptions.

Whereas the Washington Coast was very green, marshy even, the Oregon coast is a much harsher, weather beaten landscape. The waves crash against low cliffs under a more or less murky fog. The line between the rocks and the tenacious shrubs that smother them has long since dissapeared. The ocean wind has caused all the plants living at the top of the cliff to be blown eastward out over the road, making their outflung branches seem a continuation of the waves that crash at the base of the clifs they live on.

A harsh, landscape, that I find beautiful.

I stopped for dinner at a small place, and happened to pull in at the same time as another biker. We chatted over dinner about our rides, our plans. When I got back from the bathroom he had payed the bill. The waitress couldn't believe we had just met. He pointed out a good place for me to camp about an hour south and I headed there, and actually used my tent for the first time.

I set it up just before the sunset. I walked out to the ocean to watch the sunset and I must say... we don't have sunsets anywhere this impressive on the east coast. The fog made the sun's glow diffused. The oranges bled into the pinks and purples. There was a lighthouse just off the shore, whose outline, in the rising evening fog, became fainter until only the regular blip of light remained. When I realized I couldn't see the water anymore, I turned and saw the fog crawling up the clif and onto the road. I had to hurry back to my tent before I got completely caught in it.

The next morning I woke up fairly early, packed up and left. The sky looked more promising than it had the day before (english is lacking here, the word I want is in French "la Veille", meaning the evening before).

Still the fog is present in the morning along the cost. Here is a look at what I was looking up leaving my camping area, heading back to the road.

I don't think words are needed for these...

I made it to Californa before breakfast.

Northern Californian Coast

The farther I went into California, the less fog there was, until I was riding through nothing but blue sky, bright sun, and blue water. The coast in californa also softens up. The cliffs are still there, but they don't have that gray harshness that the Oregon coast had.

I could have stopped every 2 minutes to take a picture. This, combined with the winding road made for a very slow ride. Every other turn, I slowed down and just gaped at the unreal sights I saw.

Let me just toss what few shots I did take. I can't express how it feels to look at this all day long. Just notice how they start off foggy in the north, and clear up at the end.

What you don't see on these pictures are the wooded areas. While route 101 does a good job of following the coast, it does go inland a bit every now and then. I unfortunately didn't stop to take pictures along the "Avenue of the Giants", wich is a scenic detour that takes you through some pretty cool Secoya's. They where never quite as impressive enough, and as a result I now have no pictures of them.

I finally made it to route 1, wich really fallows the coast (the last three pictures were from there). The beginning of route 1 is one hairpin turn after another, going straight up a mountain and down the otherside towards the coast. I kinda wish I had somewhat of a sportier bike for this. While I love my bike, she doesn't corner as nicely as a sports bike and, well, I think it would have been even more fun than I had.
I ran into 2 other bike (each held a couple from Arkansas. All of them were programmers for Wallmart. One of the bikes was a sports cruiser (a Honda), and he was gliding through the curves like nothing. He said the bike had a lot to do with it, and urged me to at least try a crotch rocket once. I think I will, but I think I'll stick with cruiser bikes for my daily use.

That night, after another unbelieveable sunset, sans fog this time, I camped on the beach, not 30 feet from the water, about 10 miles north of Fort Bragg. I woke up thirsty in the middle of the night and walked around the beach half naked, under more stars than I can ever remember seeing, even up in Vermont. There were so many stars I had trouble finding basic constellations like the big dipper, cassiopeia or cepheus. It was oddly not freezing cold.

Next morning, now my 3rd day riding from Portland to San Francisco (where I first thought I could do it in one shot), I hit the most clasic beauty shots of northern california.

Unfortunately, it is past midnight, and I have to get some sleep as I am leaving for Las Vegas

oops, I meant Los Angeles... tomorrow morning. I anticipate a 2 day ride, though it may take 3.

You'll have to wait a bit longer for those pics... and the rest of the narrative.