Sep
16
2009
by Mr Cubes
Raymond to Astoria (54.2 miles)
Total Miles: 2,774.5
One of the greatest things about my occasional stops at a motel is the chance to be reminded how inane 90% of television output is. I've learnt there are only a handful of channels which might ever offer something relevant, interesting or just plain funny; so I don't really spend time channel surfing. This was called into question today, when one of my staple channels, The Discovery Channel, decided to show an investigation into the existence of the Sasquatch, or bigfoot, using 'evidence' possibly constructed by pixies and goblins. Plus their current fascination with Nostradamus means they have now been binned. That leaves TBS, BBC America and the sports channels. Barely worth being nice and comfortable for.
I left the motel in heavy rain and visited the same cafe I'd dined in when I got to Raymond for some breakfast. After an hour looking at the puddles forming on my panniers I decided I had to just get out and start riding...you can only get so wet, after all.
Not long after leaving Raymond I was in South Bend, self proclaimed Oyster Capital of the World. Which means it stinks. I'm not seafood's biggest fan by any means, but this was just offensive. At least it was flat here though, so I could get out as quick as possible. The hills started again straight after, and at the top of one was a county campground that offered sites for just $5 to bikers. However, I just wanted to get changed into dry clothes and full waterproofs as had been riding in only my 'drizzle gear'. There were a lot of overweight, middle aged men dressed in camouflage gear, which made me a bit nervous to be honest. So once the rain eased a bit I was straight back out onto the road.
The rest of the ride was uneventful, the rain having stopped almost immediately after I'd put the waterproofs on and never really returning and after a quick burger in Naselle, I found myself riding alongside the Columbia River which separates Washington from Oregon. I had been told about the bridge which links the two together, but still wasn't prepared for what greeted me. Four miles of narrow single carriageway, with very little barrier and a huge 'hill' at the Oregon end. Ridiculous.
As previously mentioned, I am not a fan of bridges. I admire their work and appreciate them keeping me dry, but still have a certain scepticism regarding their motives. I'd much rather have a ferry crossing anyday, which has a very clear agenda. So in an effort to put off my date with Fear, I had a look around the Lewis & Clark information posts decorating this part of the coast. These two intrepid explorers had left St Louis, Missouri in 1803 and made it to where I stood two years later. The place had been named Dismal Nitch and was just shy of their intended destination of Cape Disappointment. Certainly sounds like they weren't enjoying it along here either. Once onto the bridge, I could feel the Fear rising within me, there was very little
shoulder, and not much room for overtaking either making it all a bit close. Luckily, it wasn't too busy and after the first mile of just staring down at the tarmac I started to relax a bit and even managed to take a photo on the move. After three miles of being just above sea level the bridge starts to climb allowing ships to pass underneath and then spirals steeply back down into Astoria's harbour. I was now in Oregon and, still slightly shaking, ready to call it a day. I found the first cheap looking motel I could and set myself down in front of the television. I guess I'm just from that generation...
Sep
15
2009
by Mr Cubes
Lake Quinault to Hoquiam (44.8 miles)
Hoquiam to Raymond (29.0 miles)
Total Miles: 2,720.3
Over the past three weeks I had planned to leave the resort on three separate occasions. Each time there was a reason or excuse not to go. Today though, was definitely the day. Jon was going to spend the morning in Aberdeen, getting some stuff for the resort and would pass me on the way back for a final goodbye. I spent a few hours in the morning around the resort, but with forty miles planned for the day I had to get going sometime and reluctantly said my goodbyes to Marty, the three dogs, several ducks, the cat and the rabbit. Was a weird feeling, but I was pleased to be back in the saddle and see where my next adventure would be. As soon as I got to Amanda Park it was time for some lunch, so for the second time I made my way to the internet cafe. Maybe I'd meet the owner of another resort this time. Sadly, or luckily, my lunch passed without incident, just rubbish service and ordinary food, and I was back on the road once again. First though, I went to the local grocery store to pick up my winnings from the lottery held the week before. There was a prize fund of several hundred million dollars and I was delighted to have won my share. A big $2.
Just a few miles later I saw Jon's truck coming and luckily he saw me too. Being an absolute trooper, he had bought me ten snickers bars and a box of Clif Energy bars (chocolate chip and peanut butter flavour). That added some considerable weight to my load, as did his donation. I really cannot thank him enough for the kindness and generosity shown to me during my stay there. I'm fairly certain that I'll be back at the resort one day, it'll be interesting to see how his plans turn out.
The rest of the day was dull enough that I didn't even take any photos. I met one other cyclist who had suffered a puncture and was waiting for the bus. He seemed to be slightly out of it, struggling to understand anything I said and repeatedly telling me how he doesn't use drugs. After the impressively named Humptulips, I stopped at a bar where my accent again caused problems. Even so, I'm fairly sure that 'Diet Coke' should be understood in a place serving drinks no matter how it's pronounced. I once heard a Frenchman order the same drink as a 'Diet Cock' and managed to be served without so much as a second glance.
By the time I got to Hoquiam it was already starting to get gloomy and so I decided to stop for the day. For a change I decided to have Mexican, though I really hope the food I get in Mexico improves on this mess. Neither tasty, nor filling it was a bit of a dead meal - much the same could be said for the whole of Hoquiam. No wonder Kurt Cobain, lead singer of grunge pioneers Nirvana who was born here, seemed so angry.
Leaving Hoquiam the next day, I was immediately confronted with the first of many, many long and scary bridges that I would face on the Pacific coastline. Very little room for bikes and no
room for overtaking meant that the morning traffic, which is always in a rush, just kept on flying by my left hand side, less than a metre away. Not sure where Hoquiam ended and Aberdeen started, but either way they both disappeared fairly quickly and after another huge and scary bridge I was in another awesomely named town, Cosmopolis. I posted a birthday card to my nephew here, a little late - sorry Jacob! Nothing else seemed to happen till I got to Raymond which had quite a selection of restaurants, stores and even a barbers; 
after 3 months my hair was in desperate need of cutting. After a filling lunch in one of the diners the owner offered me a special rate in her motel down the road. Seemed like a fair deal and they say that Everybody Loves Raymond, so it turned out to be a bit of a short day. Not as short as my hair though, which after a fairly decent conversation about what I wanted done, was shaved off around the back and sides and just a small island of hair left on top. A bit like a white Don King, or Beaker from the Muppets.
Tomorrow would be my last day in Washington as I cycle over to Oregon on a ridiculously long bridge. Time to confess of my fear of crossing bridges...
Sep
13
2009
by Mr Cubes
Lake Quinault Resort
During my stay at the Lake Quinault Resort, which ended up being nearly three weeks, I was part gardener, part receptionist, part handyman, dinner guest, animal feeder, bell boy, local celebrity and eventually web designer. And I loved every minute of it. Jon was a magnificent host, making me very welcome and comfortable; so it didn't take too long till I felt like one of the locals. And there were always locals around, dropping by for a beer and a chat, helping around the resort or delivering food and drink from a trip down to town. There was a great sense of community here and it drew me in, the complete opposite to the overpopulated, frantic and selfish lifestyle of London. Once I'd finished mowing 
the lawns then I started helping Dan, the actual handyman, take the roof off of one of the outbuildings. Jon has big plans for the resort and there is a lot to be done. Seeing as I was lacking any work trousers, work shoes, life insurance or actual ability then my career in labouring was short lived. Probably just as well too.
On the Friday at the end of the first week, Jon and I went down to Ocean Shores, forty miles away and the nearest place for a night out. While some terrible 'Irish' band played, Jon asked if I wanted to redesign the Lake Quinault Resort website. I could move into a cabin down the road, use the facilities as much as I needed and generally have a good time. As payment, as well as all of the hospitality I would receive, he would make a donation to my trip. Well, that seemed like a win/win situation to me, and again I decided to go with the 'good things happen when you say "yes"' policy.
The cabin was delightful; small but perfectly formed and with everything I would need. Except internet, but that was available at the resort which was less than half a mile away. Perfect. And so I started work on the site, which you can see at www.lakequinaultresort.com. A few days later, the next phase of Jon's plans began to take shape - his chef, Lajos Deri, arrived from Las Vegas to begin work in the kitchen. Lajos is another incredibly warm person. Originally from Hungary he has been working in America as a private chef to some high profile clients 
for a number of years. And I was lucky enough to get to eat his food. For free! Several times! Jon hadn't previously been able to cater for guests and his vision was to offer guests at the resort the chance to watch, and sometimes participate, in the preparation of their own dinner. His stepfather, Marty, had hand built a huge dining table from one tree that fell on the property and for the opening night local friends and some guests who were staying were invited. And little old me! The chef delivered and it was an amazing night which I feel privileged to have been a part of. The following two nights were the same. Beautiful food, great company and the chance to raise the profile of my trip. I had to keep telling myself to ignore the voice that said "if something appears to good to be true, it usually is". What a load of rubbish.
Two of the guests I got chatting to, Pete and Barb, invited to join then for dinner on the south shore of the lake with their neighbours, Bruce and Debi, who had just bought a house in San Luis Obispo, California, and thought it would be nice for me to meet them and maybe see them again when I got down there. I was now in the Lake Quinault set and social networking had begun. Not bad after a couple of weeks. Unfortunately, September had also begun and with it the start of the rain season which gives the forests their name. I had already seen an example of what comes over the winter; when for a whole weekend solid the winds blew so hard that the rain was coming down horizontally. I needed to get the site finished, give up my new life of luxury and return to the road. Tough call, but though I had a great time with Jon at the resort, I really much prefer life on the road.
And so this remarkable chapter of my adventure came to a close. Three weeks of luxury that I would never have expected to see on this trip. If you find yourself in western Washington, then you have to visit the Lake Quinault Resort. You never know what may happen...
Aug
24
2009
by Mr Cubes
South Beach to Lake Quinault Resort (28.4 miles)
Total Miles: 2,646.6
A day that started with porridge on a wet and windy beach and ended with being taken out to dinner at a posh restaurant. The variety of situations I find myself in continues to amaze me. The morning dew from the ocean had soaked the tent and as I packed it away, trying to keep the inner dry, I was approached on three occasions by gentleman interested in my journey. Once informed I was heading south, each of them provided different advice on the best route to take; none of them in common with my existing plan, nor with the actual course of events. Still, thanks for trying.
Most of the day's riding was flat and the morning was warming up nicely. After ten miles of nothing much, I was overtaken by another bike, travelling light and heading nowhere in particular. We chatted for a bit, before he got bored of my slower pace and sped off into the distance. I, meanwhile, put on lesson 2 of my Spanish course. A few more miles down the road was the start of roadworks that would continue for 44 miles, all the way to Aberdeen. They were chip sealing the road, which left a lot of gravel and other debris in the shoulder and with the huge logging lorries flying past, it was a tough road to cycle. A worker signalled for me to come off the 
road at one point to let traffic pass and as I did, the cyclist from before appeared again. I couldn't quite work out how I'd overtaken him until he explained that a rear spoke had snapped and he had stopped to try and sort it out. Unfortunately neither of us were carrying spares which meant he had to continue on to the next bike shop hoping the wheel doesn't buckle. We stopped at a small grocery store just before Lake Quinault and after checking my maps I decided to head onto Amanda Park, just a mile up the road with the possibility of there being a cafe.
This is when things started to get surreal. I left the broken spoke guy in the shop and found the internet cafe in Amanda Park; it looked a decent enough place for lunch. While parking the bike up I got chatting to three bikers who had heard from a friend who knew someone etc etc, that there was a guy in Mexico that got involved in a road traffic accident and the police just put him in prison rather than taking him to hospital. The story continued that it turned out he had a broken neck and died. The moral? Go to Mexico and you'll die! Some people really shouldn't be allowed to socialise unsupervised. Leaving them as quickly as I could, I went into the cafe and noticed Christian, one of the cyclists who had been on the ferry from Victoria with me. We chatted for some time before agreeing to meet at the same campground later in the day. Once lunch was ordered I started to plug in my laptop and this caught the attention of another diner, sitting behind me with a couple of friends. He asked what I was up to, where I was going and offered to let me stay at his resort if I mowed his lawn, allowing me to get more blog writing done. I wasn't totally convinced he was serious, either that he had a resort, or if he did that I would get a room there just for mowing the lawns. So I thought about it and decided I'd better just push on with the riding and turn him down. That was until he asked me again as we were both leaving and I immediately changed my mind and said yes. Well, it would be worth a look at least. There then followed the following conversation:
JH : OK, So I'm Jon, what's your name?
PC : Paul
JH : Poll?
PC : No, Paul
JH : Pole?
PC : No, Paul
JH : Pol? Ok, is that a common name in England?
PC : No, it's Paul - as in Paul McCartney.
JH : Oh, Pahhhl.
PC : <shrugs>
I've since started to pronounce my name differently as it seems that after all these years my way, the English way, is wrong. Who knew?
Jon gave me a lift to the beautiful resort, hidden away deep in the rainforest on the north shore of the lake. There wasn't too much grass to be cut and after putting my gear into one of the luxurious rooms I got to work. Not having any experience in professional lawn mowing, I sought inspiration from the finely manicured pitches viewed weekly at football grounds all over the UK. I finally decided to go with a straightforward diagonal
pattern; simple, yet effective. After I'd finished two of the three lawns, Jon said I could stop for the day and join him and other guests on a tour of the lake. Once finished, after seeing numerous eagles, ospreys and other birds I wouldn't recognise in a neatly labelled birdspotting book, we set up a fire on the beach for one of the families to 
enjoy for the evening, complete with s'mores making kit, while we headed over to the Salmon House restaurant on the south shore of the lake. During dinner, which was kindly paid for by a friend of Jon's, he repeatedly mentioned how great it would be if I could stay for a few days to help out around the resort. It just goes to show that the movie I watched on the way to Alaska was right - good things do happen when you say "yes".
Aug
22
2009
by Mr Cubes
Elwha Dam to Bear Creek (39.3 miles)
Total Miles: 2,564.7
The only thing better than bacon sandwiches for breakfast are bacon sandwiches that you haven't had to cook, so a huge thank you to Chris who was frying up some of the best bacon I'd experienced in North America (surprisingly hard to come by). Was a sunny and warm morning so the huge hill on the way out of the campsite was not too well appreciated. The road followed round the outskirts of the Olympic National Park with stunning mountains on one side and huge lakes on the other. There wasn't a great deal of shoulder on the road though, so it was a bit scary in places.
The huge Lake Crescent lasted for over ten miles and had plenty of rest areas for taking photos and stopping for lunch. In the forest was a picnic area where I made up noodles and remained totally uninterrupted for the hour I was there - a rare treat. After this I made it to a small store and met Steve and Barb, a couple from Minnesota riding around on his Harley. Leaving the store was a huge two mile steep climb but after
this it was flat again until I got to Bear Creek, a small community with a restaurant and a free campground. The restaurant offered Twilight themed drinks, such as Bella Berry, and Twilight Tea. Forks, the setting for the series of books about a high school girl caught in a love triangle with a vampire and a werewolf (yep, really) was just down the road and bringing in thousands of tourists. And everyone was trying to squeeze every last cent out of it while it lasted.
The campsite looked great and I was impressed that it was free to stay there. That was until the party started at about 9pm. Several of the campers had been drinking and barbecuing all evening and now decided to start a karaoke competition. Thankfully it didn't last too long as some of the elder campers, of which I seem to have become, threatened to call the sheriff if they didn't pipe down. Was still plenty of noise though which kept me awake and I was just starting to think about packing up and moving on when tiredness took over and I fell sound asleep.
Aug
21
2009
by Mr Cubes
Victoria to Elwha Dam (12.6 miles)
Total Miles: 2,525.4
Woke up excited to realise it was the first day of the deciding Test match between England and Australia in the battle for The Ashes - cricket's oldest and most famous duel. Homesick manifests itself in different ways and this had been the first Ashes series in my lifetime where I had missed every single ball. Still, the wonders of the internet and BBC Sport allowed me to follow what happened over the next five days (no skipping ahead to see who won, non cricket fans - I know you want to). Still, I couldn't hang around all day pressing F5, so I went off to explore Victoria before my ferry was due in the afternoon. As I cycled around the Galloping Goose, a trail built specifically for skaters and cyclists, I was sure I saw the bright orange panniers of Nils and Caro, the two German cyclists I'd met 1,300 miles earlier in northern Yukon Territory. Was good to see them again and a reminder of just how small the population of western Canada is - I've spent years in London never seeing the same people twice, even 
when looking for them. Victoria is a very British city, with red double deckers and lots of classic architecture. The huge Empress Hotel overlooking the harbour and a statue of Queen Victoria keeping guard of the governmental building were two of the highlights. After a lunch of spicy peanut noodles (cooked by a Japanese chef for a change), it was time to run round trying to get rid of the last few dollars I had left. Unfortunately there were only souvenir shops in this area of town, so I ended up with some expensive chocolates and a history of Canadian sailing.
My bike had spent the afternoon on board the ferry, though it had to be suddenly taken off again right at the last minute when the customs official demanded to see my white card (which for some reason wasn't stapled into my passport). Once that small oversight was sorted we were off and plenty of passengers of the forty onboard were asking about my trip. One middle aged gentleman
asked me to explain where Cornwall was as his Grandmother had come from there, but he'd never got around to researching it. Just as I was finishing my geography lesson (including maps) the ship's captain announced the sighting of a whale ahead of us. This time I was determined to capture it (on film) and got a fairly decent shot. Well, I think so anyway. You just have to zoom in a little to see it…
After just an hour we were in Washington State and immediately the difference was noticeable. Traffic was more hostile, drunks were on every street corner (I couldn't recall seeing a drunk person in Canada except for Dawson City) and litter lined the streets. After asking in the visitor information about available campgrounds I was told of a County Fayre and decided I should check it out. Unfortunately I wasn't allowed to take the bike in with me, so decided I'd have to give it a miss. Didn't look that great anyway. I left Port Angeles and headed to the Elwha Dam campsite which was offering cheap pitches to anyone on a bicycle due to there being a huge race in town the next day. Setting up next to me was a couple from Seattle, though Chris was originally from England (yay!) and River from Australia (boo!). Luckily it had been a good day for England in the cricket so I was able to bring that up at every opportunity. They were heading out to dinner and invited me to join them, was a really nice evening and made me feel happier about being back in the USA. Tonight was also my first introduction to the world of Twilight...a world I would get to see the very centre of over the next few days...