The cycling state of Oregon
I have cycled through Oregon. A state with more bike lanes and bikers. These fellow cyclists that I meet makes me happy, while enjoying a bike-and-beer-tour between their city houses, cheering for them during a cycle-cross-race or sharing the long distance coastal road of 101 with them.
Even though Oregon is a biker friendly state, the roads are roamed and ruled by huge motor vehicles. The city cars have the similar size of Scandinavian trucks and the actual trucks feels like huge road trains passing by. The American camping holidays seems to be spent in mega-motorhomes large as buses. All of these huge vehicles has gratefully enough stayed away from the shoulder of the road that I travel on, sadly however, I do share it with the road kill of cats, dears and racoons. But what I view as motor-monsters on the roads, turns out to be driven by caring strangers who asks me if I would like a ride when it is raining and gives me a high-five of encouragement when the sun is out.
The roads of Oregon lead to charming cities, tasty blackberry bushes and cosy sand dunes. Sweet coastal views continuously reappear on my right hand side, with the barking sound of sealions and beaches that steals away my attention from the lanes ahead. On some stretches, the trees have been shaped by the wind, bending down for the wind in obedience. To me the wind is usually a kind tailwind, but as it occasionally turns I almost bend down like the trees out of tiredness. The shoulder of the road carries other cyclist, who also have their handlebars pointed south. In the end of the day our tents adds bright colours to the campgrounds, where we share biker stories while eating two portions each of carb-filled meals with our multi-use-cutlery.
Except for cycle-chats and camp-dinners I have been enjoying cups of lovely chai in front of a fireplace with panoramic views of Coos Bay, drinking white wine with home-grown sweetcorn at a friendly forest house in Brookings and eating a tasty pizza with local beer at a cinema in Portland. The different paths and people in Oregon has treated me well with a variety of bike memories, falling asleep in a playhouse one night and waking up in a luxury house some mornings after. Oregon will truly be a dear memory to carry with me as I continue to follow the coastal road of 101 in California.
Peace
Hi Hanna,
So great to run into you, a fellow Swede this morning at the little cafe in Orick. A place I would least expect to run into another Swede. It feels special for me to meet someone from “home” as I am home sick at the moment,even after living here for twelve years now. I enjoyed reading about your journey on your bike. (I saw your beautiful Crescent outside the cafe!). It takes me back to my own time of travelling. I really hope you come to see us when you are in our area. I’d like to hear more about your adventure.