Astoria to Nehalem Bay
Day 13 So the day finally came. The whole point of my trip now approached into view like a trucking juggernaut fully loaded with logs on a tight road in the dark. There was no moving out of the way and dragging it out any longer. It was time to hit the road and get peddling. I set off from Astoria at 11 am and headed in the direction of Fort Stevens State Park twenty miles away. The first big obstacle was the bridge out of the town. This was over a mile long and had really strong cross winds. Had I the stomach for this? Was this really for me? Yes was the answer to both those questions. Head down, eyes straight ahead, peddle like a maniac. Phil 1, Road 0. I quickly got into the right sort of rhythm and started clocking up some decent miles. The sun had broken through nicely and the traffic was steady but not to heavy. I peddled for roughly an hour when I saw the turning for Fort Stevens on the horizon. I remembered that the next state park would be Nehalem Bay a further 20 miles along the coast. I threw caution to the wind and keep going. With the steady pace I could get to Nehalem Bay in another 2 hours and also have chance to stop in the aptly named Seaside, Oregon. I was continuing along when I noticed something on the ground about 50 yards ahead of me. I couldn’t quite work out what it was but I was definitely going to stop. When I reached the object I found a child’s stuffed toy cat. Still with the label on and small enough to fit in my handle bar bag. Could this be a sign? I’m not from the everything happens for a reason school of thought but I couldn’t help thinking about my cat Rocco and the grief I caused myself and him by having to give him back to the rescue centre before I departed for the USA. The toy is now my bikes mascot and as I type this it is outside on my bike saddle. I continued on along highway 101 until I came to my next point of interest. In Darlaston there is a venue that is a swinging club for those voyeurs and free minded folk. It’s not to everyone’s taste but each to his own as far as I’m concerned. Just outside Seaside Oregon they have their own version. Everyone knows that Americans always have to go bigger. Whether it’s the food portions, the cars or the churches they always go large. We can now add something else to that list. Not just a swinging club but a swinging community. The sign says it all. “Glenwood Village an adult community” and in small print below, no soliciting. I was going to pop in and ask for some further information purely to help the blog have the full facts but unfortunately time was pressing. They do have a telephone number, if you want it let me know.
I came into the town of Seaside and stopped to eat my sandwich and chill for a while. My first sight of a proper beach since I have been on the West coast. Back on the road I came my first tunnel. I had read how scary they were and how you had to press a button before entering that made lights flash at the entrance to warn the drivers of the cars and trucks that there would be someone inside the tunnel peddling like a lunatic. I navigated it okay but I wouldn’t want to do it to often. Once I got to Nehalem Bay I found the camp site, paid my fees and set my tent up. I got chatting to a couple who I had seen out on the road earlier. They set their tent up and came over to say hi. They are Brandon and Kate. Both work in education in New York City and are having two weeks holiday riding the coast. Also joining us was Dillon from Oklahoma. He is hiking rather than riding. I took a gander at his shoes as I was curious what kind of footwear a long distance hiker would have on. To late, he had already changed into his comfortable slippers.
