From 'el fin del mundo' to 'el fin de la aventura'

There's a reason for the delay in posts. And it is with much sadness I write my last post for this trip.


Mount Fitzroy.

I have had to cut the trip short and return home. After a delay leaving El Chalten in Argentina for Christmas in Villa O'Higgins in Chile, I eventually made that infamous crossing on Christmas Day itself and got to Villa O'Higgins on Boxing Day. It was a beautiful ride into the valley (37km of my first proper unsealed road- yes, suspension would've been a nice relief), across the lakes and over the mountain (9km of pushing and carrying your bike up to the border and then a [very] rough 15km ride down the Chilean side to the ferry to Villa O'Higgins). A hard task, but a satisfying one. I was covered in bruises from walking into trees and shrubs, and slips into creeks. I completed it with another cyclist, Martin from Switzerland. He had the unenviable task of strapping his bike trailer to his back and pushing his foldie up and over the pass. Mind you, I doubt anyone is envious of my weakling arms that were incapable of pushing my bike with its panniers on for the first stretch, which felt like pulling a fully laden bike up a hill of 90 degrees. This instead required me to do 3 trips, running back and forth for the first few km's with my bike and bags seperately.


Martin helping me with my bike across a creek during the border crossing.

We camped half way up the first stretch of 'pushing'- I can't equate it with 'walking', and on the morning of Boxing Day we woke to see fresh snow 50 metres up the hill from our camp. We packed up and continued on to the border with much glee at the sight of the start of the track down to the Chilean immigration and ferry outta that wilderness. Snowed on again whilst getting there, it cleared up on the Chilean side and we had sunshine to come down the mountain. Completely knackered, we had a rest while waiting for the ferry to leave for Villa O'Higgins, drying out our gear too.

The ferry is essentially transport for the Immigration guys that work there and those silly enough to do the crossing. It is a really remote part of Chile and I was surprised to see a small farmstead on the shore of one of the islands we passed on the 2 hour ride. I can't comprehend how people live there, except for the obvious delights of the beautiful surrounds.

So we got to Villa O'Higgins and stayed at the lovely El Mosco hostel/campground which is a favourite of the cycle tourists and was a pleasure to stay for a couple of nights. Villa O'Higgins is the final town on the Carretera Austral, and is a teeny town. It is this area and north of here that is of interest to large companies interested in developing hydro-electric schemes in the area that would harness the water that absolutely abounds here. 'Patagonia sin Represas' (Patagonia without dams) is concerned with fighting these companies and the government's attempts to develop the region. There are huge billboards that advertise the benefits of such companies to those that live here, but the political movement has an ad hoc but pervasive advertising system of spray painting any flat surface with 'Patagonia Sin Represas' everywhere. Its a hard issue for alot of people. There is a strong local pride in rural life in Patagonia, but there is also a strong need for employment. I spoke with a Chilean who works for the group and he was conflicted on what options there are if they are to block economic development through the hydro-elec scheme. There is talk of tourism, but the region is so underdeveloped, infrastructure-wise, that it would be hard to attract money to the south unless there was more development of another kind. O the dilemna! One thing is for sure, any form of development should be wisely investigated and gently implemented- the region is so wonderfully pure that it needs serious protection. There are few places in the world where its safe to drink the water straight from the rivers, lakes and waterfalls, and that is what you can do in Chilean Patagonia. This is much appreciated by cyclists who don't like to have to carry too much water on their bike, including yours truly :)

So back to it all. I got to Villa O'Higgins safe and sound, and a little black and blue on the legs. However, the day I arrived I got the sad news of my grandma passing away back home in Australia on that same day. I was surprised and had many mixed emotions about continuing on. I was about to set off on a hard ride on the Carretera, but I was quite excited and the area was so quiet and pretty. I rode on for a few days to see how I felt. I realised after 2 days it wouldn't be worth continuing if I couldn't enjoy myself and my time there. I made the hard decision to stop the trip and return home and be with family. What had been a hard 6 months already, with other news, I came to the conclusion that I shouldn't continue on just to prove a point. I will instead return in a few years and do it properly, and I so look forward to that time. I have already learnt a few lessons and got ideas on how to make it more enjoyable and better in the future. In the meantime I hope to explore parts of Australia on my bike to make up for it.

The final week was about getting out of one of the more remote parts of South America and there was a combination of riding, hitching and bussing my way to Coyhaique where I could leave for Santiago to get home. I met a bunch more riders in this town and had a happy New Years with a couple of them. I leave you all (for now) with photos from the last few weeks of the trip and a lovely surprise I got when we flew home- scraping the edge of Antarctica. It turns out the world isn't flat, and the fastest way to get from South America to Oz is via the Antarctic!



P.S. Thank you everyone for your encouragement, it was really appreciated. A special thank you to my friend Kelly for coming along. I look forward to the next adventure...

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Photos from the last few weeks of my trip, including Torres del Paine National Park.

Kelly and I with Juan, the Police officer who let us cook lunch at the Police check-point















A little lamb whose ear's had been bit off by a bird. Tragically cute.



















Valley de Frances, Torres del Paine National Park.















Glacier Grey, Torres del Paine National Park.















Torres at sunrise, Torres del Paine National Park.



















Perito Moreno Glacier.

Punta Arenas - El Chalten

Ok, apologies in advance for the lack of photos. It takes a surprisingly long (and tedious) amount of time to get them uploaded, but I will add as soon as I can. And apologies for the length of this post, its easy to get carried away... Hopefully next time, I can post less, more often!

So, back to this southern adventure. Yes, its all still an adventure. Thats the beauty of this trip, both the form of transport (bicycle) and location (Patagonia) hold so much variety and possibility for unknowns and adventure!

So Kelly and I set off from Punta Arenas for Puerto Natales and it was 250km over 5 days- 3 of which were very windy. But then we had 2 wind-free (or nearly all wind-free) days that really made up for it. I got overly excited the first day without wind, I couldn´t help but sing aloud on my bike- such joy. Along this route, we crossed the pampa and not much else. There were only a few towns on the way which amounted to a place to stop for coffee and a bite.

When we needed a place to pitch our tent, people always helped us out by finding a room for us to settle in, instead. But on one occasion this wasn´t an option (which is more than fine, I wanted to be making the most of the tent I had to lug around on the back of my bike!) and we camped in a rodeo one night and got the lightest of snows as we set up camp. It was a snow equivalent to a sunshower, very light, short and sunny! At the rodeo, which was also under construction, one of the construction workers, Victor, proudly showed off some fresh roadkill- an armadillo. I had no idea they were in South America (to be honest my knowledge of armadillos is quite scant) and it was very strange to see one. And they look exactly like they do in photos, with their weird long, sparse hair. One of the weirdest things so far!

I can´t exclude mention of ´The Ditch´ however. On one particularly windy day, Kelly and I pulled off the road on a particularly long stretch through the pampa for some rest and came across the most amazing ditch. Ever. It was perfectly contoured to our bodies and we sat down for a good half an hour out of the wind and laughed ourselves silly at the thought of how much pleasure we were getting from a ditch. It is this kind of thing that has broken the mood of hardship that you get sometimes, while riding out here. Amazing Ditches, soft ground to put your tent pegs into, warm showers (yes ´agua caliente´ [´hot water´] is used in a sales pitch when trying to sell the merits of accommodation in some towns down here) and a hot drink have all been little saviours that put a smile on our face.

On the Punta Arenas-Puerto Natales route we were also shown more hospitality by the local law enforcement. I rode ahead one day to cook lunch for Kelly and I and I came across a Police check point and explained all I needed was some shelter for my stove to cook some food, but Juan insisted on me using one of their cabins to cook and make myself at home. I accepted with thanks and got lunch ready with great speed in time for Kelly to arrive and eat. On leaving, Juan asked for a photo which we happily agreed to (and we got our own too, I´ll post later). He took his sweet time getting the right shot with us two gringas, as the traffic patiently waited to be ´checked through´. Very funny.

Then we got to Puerto Natales, the end of the (cycled) road for Kelly. We indulged in some great food (wood fired pizza, lemon pannacotta, and the most amazing chocolate mousse cake and brownies from ´Patagonia Dulce´) and got ready for our big hike in Torres del Paine National Park. Kelly fell in love with all the street dogs in Natales, and she was right, they were adoreable. So far, the ones we´ve met have usually been very territorial and protective of the properties they belong to and are thus quite hostile to us passer-bys. But these street dogs were the epitome of good-naturedness and charm. We don´t know how they got by, but you never got a snarl from them, only a contented look on their face as they trotted around town without a care in the world.

So we headed into the popular Torres del Paine and started our 5 day ´W-circuit´through the park which I loved so much- the highlight of the trip so far, narrowly beating out ´The Ditch´. We were surrounded by gorgeous mountains, creamy blue lakes, forest, rivers, ice and even a glacier! If you come near this part of the world, come to Torres. Just spectacular. We were very lucky to have 5 straight days wind-free (except for a bit coming into and out of the valley of the Torres) and we had glorious sunshine and warmth. We would probably have had a much harder trip if it weren´t for this great weather.

We slept a couple of hundred metres from Glacier Grey and saw icebergs float past our tent, dipped our feet in the meltwater for a bit of relief after a long 2 day´s hike to and from the glacier, wandered up the Valle Frances for beautiful sights (only needing our day packs- a welcome relief) and set our alarms for a 5.15am sunrise to see the Torres (hopefully) glow pink- which they didn´t. This however meant we need to be up at 4am to make the hike up to the lookout. Yes, we were tired puppies on that last day and snoozed our way back to Puerto Natales on the bus, happy but tired.

With the hike behind us, we skipped the next stretch to El Calafate by bike and got the bus (Kelly had a plane to catch so we had to fast-track that stretch of the trip) instead. We stayed in a nice hostel overlooking Lago Argentina and sat on the porch for a glass of champers and some baked potatoes (the Lucie-Kelly accompaniment to fine wine!) to celebrate the end of Kelly´s trip- what was a big undertaking for her first overseas trip. Cycling in the Patagonian winds- what a trooper!

We went to the Perito Moreno glacier nearby and were quite impressed by its immensity. Absolutely stunning. Apparently its one of the last glaciers to still be moving. 1.7 metres at the front break off everyday, making the best noise ever. A little like thunder and lightning, you hear it crash after the ice has already fallen a second or two before.

It was in this unassuming cafeteria at the glacier we came across one of the best hot chocolates of the trip so far. I believe Kelly rated this the highest, but my vote is probably with ´Patagonia Dulce´ in Puerto Natales, and this brings me to a new segment called- ´What Lucie thinks of all the chocolate and chocolate-related products in Patagonia´.

Surprisingly, chocolate is the ´in´ thing down here. Several towns have had one, sometimes more (see El Calafate- though they had quantity, rather than quality) chocolate shops. It all started in Ushuaia, got better in Punta Arenas where I (owner of the biggest sweet tooth) was out-sweeted by Chocolatta´s offerings, and came to a climax in Puerto Natales at Patagonia Dulce where we found heaven in their creamy hot chocolates (I was suffering somewhat after a lack of decent hot chocolate in the US, where they prefer artificially sweetened powders and hot water) and gorgeous cakes and tortes. We came to the conclusion after our first visit, however, that a visit to Patagonia Dulce could only be undertaken with the ordering of EITHER a drink OR a dessert, but not BOTH. That was suicide, as we found out on our first visit, but was rectified on our second visit as we just ordered the cake. Safe option indeed.

I will keep you posted of how the next lot stack up, but I now find myself in a position to taste test as many hot chocolates as I can.

This brings me to my last 3 days, from El Calafate to El Chalten on The Duck. Back in the saddle alone, after adios-ing to Kelly, I spent 3 days getting to the launch pad for the Carretera Austral. I met a bunch of cyclists coming from the north which was encouraging, though I couldn´t help but feel jealous of the tail winds they would (and had) experience in the km´s to come. I stopped halfway at the only place in the 220km between towns, and tested their hot chocolate- coming in 3rd after P. Natales and the ´glacier cafeteria´. I don´t know if its a patagonian thing, or a south american thing, but they have a drink here called the ´submarino´ where you get a glass of steamed milk and you get a chunk of chocolate to drop in and melt to become the hot chocolate. While this isn´t exactly the most efficient or delicious way to serve hot choc, it is the most fun!

Back to the riding though... I was feeling good the second day, but the last stretch to El Chalten (an 80km) day, the winds got the better of me and I called it a day 15km short of town and got a lift the rest of the way. It felt like I was cycling into a wind machine and it was harder every 100 metres I went. It was a pity, cos those last 15k´s were so gorgeous, the desert quickly changed to greenery and striking peaks. And that is where I leave you, in El Chalten, resting in my tent as the wind continues to blow, finally able to start reading my Russian novel I brought for this trip especially (its ´Anna Karenina´ by the way, and yes I like it very much so far).

I head off for the infamous crossing to Villa O´Higgins (the start of the Carretera Austral in Chile) on Wednesday and will be somewhere in the quiet south of the Chilean Andes for Christmas, consoling myself with some red wine, dark chocolate, and thinking of all my loved ones, friend and family- but happy to be in such a beautiful part of the world. Merry Christmas all.

And so the Big One began…

I left the United States behind and headed for old South America way. A quick stopover in Buenos Aires brought me together with my travelling companion, Kelly. And it also meant a visit to the Recoleta Cemetery where Eva Peron is buried (at least if you believe that- some reckon her body was stolen and is in Europe somewhere!), along with some other famous families (which I didn´t know anything about)- full of beautiful old graves, in a style only the Catholics can do.



But then we were off again for ´El Fin del Mundo´- The end of the world. The town of Ushuaia (oos-why-a) on the Argentinean side of Tierra Del Fuego is the most southerly town in the world, and a great place to start one´s adventures. Quite a touristy town because of this claim, but a stunning city nonetheless. It´s on the water and surrounded by gorgeous snow-capped mountains. The arrival from the air is fabulous- make sure you get a window seat! The normal announcement about keeping electronics turned off during departure and landing was duly ignored as we all whipped out our cameras to snap away.

The air was clean and crisp and the sunlight hours long. The night finally coming at about 10pm, and the sun really gone at 10.30pm. And this has proved to be very handy when we got on the road, even if it does demand the use of an eye-mask when camping, as its broad daylight all day and most of the evening you can afford to push on when cycling if you have to. (And also prolongs the batteries in your headlamp!)

Kelly putting her bike together.


The Duck in 2-D form.

The odometer is set to zero.




We officially started our bike ride at the start of Ruta 3, in the Tierra del Fuego National Park. A famous start/end point for people´s pan-american bike rides- the end of the road. The start of the road for us…

We went back to the hostel and set off again the next day. We agreed on a few short 50km days to warm up with and would build up as we went, but it looks like 50-60km is a more likely target for much of South America. Much larger distances aren´t really possible for continuous stretches yet, as we´ve found out, due to the weather and condition of roads.

Well, back to that day from Ushuaia to Lago Escondido (60km from the hostel)…
It snowed. It snowed on us. 2 young Australian girls got caught in the snow, coming up to the Garibaldi mountain Pass. We had a late start due to the fact we knew it wouldn´t take more than a few hours and we were still not in ´hard-core commando mode´ (and to tell you the truth we still aren´t!) but this late start meant we hit this particular pass on a cold afternoon when the moisture turned to heavy rain turned to snow. So we whipped on all our wet weather gear and plowed on and over the mountain and into the rain on the other side, down to the Police check-point (a semi-regular occurrence so far) to ask about a hotel we´d read about that was on the lake we intended to camp at (there is no town at Lago Escondido). Their response- ¨No función¨. But the Policia welcomed us in to dry off and hear of our plans. Handed hot cups of coffee and sugary pastries we felt a whole lot better. As it was only a matter of being wet now we agreed we could camp. But they offered us their office to sleep in for the night and we accepted happily. Though manageable, semi-wet clothes really are a hassle when camping (in the rain). So we were pleased with our situation at that point (agreeing all of that day held for a great story on our return), but then the firemen up the road heard about us on the radio and came up to get us to go back to their station 1/2km up the road as they had more room, a kitchen etc. and a television (they found this point worth emphasizing).There was a fabulous exchange on the radio as we drove to the station which went something like this (in Spanish even Kelly could understand)…

- ¨I´m coming back with 2 Australian girls and their bikes¨
-¨Eh?!¨

As it turned out, this particular fire brigade has seen a lot of bike tourists come through and all have left messages of gratitude in the visitor´s book. People from all over the world wanting to cycle Patagonia like me and Kel. That evening I got to practice my Spanish on 3 very patient Argentineans while the soccer played in the background, but for Kelly it was mild torture. The game didn´t finish till 11.30pm and as it had a been a long day, sleep was first on our minds. So when we finally rolled out our sleeping bags in their living room and turned the lights off, it was midnight. I guess for these latino night-owls, that’s not such a problem, but for us we were exhausted and needed to be up early.

We had a snow- and hassle-free day the following day to Tolhuin at Lago Fagnano and we arrived with lots of time to hit the bakery for more churros filled with ´dulce de leche´ (caramel) and empanadas (pastry turn-overs with meat or veggies inside). And I got to fly the kite that was given to me by a couple in Bodega Bay (California) in the very strong winds coming off the Fuegian Andes mountains we were riding away from.

Our first big day´s riding turned into a very big day´s ride. We got to our target of 80ish-km but didn´t feel it was a good/safe/legal place to camp (it was 2 properties with houses but no one around and signs telling you not to trespass, we thought we shouldn´t try our luck in the middle of nowhere) and the plains on either side didn´t afford any shelter from the wind so we decided to push on another 25km to Rio Grande as we had some energy and daylight on our side. We got in to a nice place through the town at 7pm after clocking up 118km that day. Whilst it was a camp ground, it was just as cheap (and much warmer) to stay inside in a wee auditorium so we holed up there and spread our stuff out for the next day too as we decided to rest up after such a long slog. We met another cyclist who we´d met briefly on our first day in the national park and talked a bit about the winds ahead on the plains.

And then we hit them. Or they hit us. The minute we left the safety of ´Club Nautico Camping´ we were hit by the strong Patagonian winds so many cyclists have hit before, here in the summer time. Its strange to think, but people come here in the winter instead because the weather is calmer, no winds. Considering we are rugged up in clothes due the cold even in summer, I can´t imagine what its like in winter.

So we plugged on with an estancia our aim at 60km. But riding at 11km/hr 60km takes a long time. We even had a lie down at one point just to have a break from the winds. For me it was a mental break. I could ride in the winds, but mentally they´re so defeating- knowing you aren´t getting anywhere after all the time you spend pedaling. We were within sight of the estancia (a sheep or cattle station with homesteads that are on the gourmet-pricey side, but that usually let you camp for nothing) and it was taking a good half hour to ride those last few kms, and it was here our plans changed. After one day in the strong winds we agreed once we crossed the border into Chile the next day (where the road turns to gravel + strong winds) we would try our best to get a ride on a bus to the ferry and onto Punta Arenas. We would have spent 4-5 days in some depressing winds not getting very far and not passing through scenery we wouldn´t see otherwise. It felt a little like cheating, but we agreed to make the most of the short time Kelly has here and get on to the mainland. As we set off for the last km to the estancia we passed a truck pulled over and chatted to the driver about the weather, when he, Hector, asked if we wanted a ride to the border. ¨Yes, we would love that¨. It was loud and bumpy ride across the border (the road between the 2 border towns is not maintained and is very loose gravel), but we got there in one piece along with our bikes, strapped onto the rear trailer which was carrying those rally cars used for charities (destined for France apparently).

A bit like Mary and Joseph, the only hotel in town was booked full, so we camped outside, somewhat protected from the wind. Though unlike Mary and Joseph, we did not have a new born messiah by morning, only some bad bed-hair and some mouse eaten rolls (they got into Kelly´s pack outside). The lovely Chilean border official from the previous day had told us to return in the morning and he would help us get a lift off the island. Apparently our route to the western side was frequented very little by anyone possible to carry our bikes too, so we got on a bus to the north and crossed onto the mainland by 2pm. The landscape was quiet and sparse, but very beautiful. Its only tarnished by the inability to cycle through it because of the winds.

The landscape of Tierra del Fuego.

Again, found in the middle of nowhere, we were helped out by some employees of the local petroleum plant. After some initial confusion about possible transport onwards to Punta Arenas we were taken in by the parents of Philipe, in a nearby town. There we relaxed, ate, and made friends with their cute dog ´Blanca´ until our lift the next day to Punta Arenas, our current location where we have done some more eating, ALOT more sleeping and visited a nearby penguin colony, as below.

The joys of civilisation

On a sad note, a good friend of mine, Hazel Burns, passed away on Monday 16th of November just as I set off on this tour. She had been battling a rare form of osteosarcoma (bone cancer) for the past 2 years and died peacefully in her sleep, 2 weeks after her 25th birthday. Some of you have met her or heard about her. She was a special person and will be sorely missed. This is a link to a page set up in her memory where one can donate to bone cancer research or just to read about her story. We miss you Hazel.

http://www.justgiving.com/inmemoryofhazel

Photos from the Giro d´Oregon e California

As promised...
(sorry for the delay- most internet cafes have had trouble uploading photos)


Seals sunning themselves in Waldport. At first, hearing them bark was endearing, but it grew thin as you tried to sleep and all you hear is seals barking!

Sitting on top of the fog after climbing up a big hill in the redwoods, out of Crescent City, CA.

The fog. Scary stuff.



The magical redwoods...

I got to cycle the quiet and scenic Avenue of the Giants. Very special.

The sun coming through the Redwoods as I pass.

The coast at Fort Bragg.

That wonderful feeling as I approached the beautiful Golden Gate Bridge after 3 weeks on the road. Glorious!

Highway 1 and Highway 101 meet again. Wonderful tour on some great roads.

Typical Pacific Heights housing style. Reminds you of ´Full House´, huh?

And some cute street art in downtown San Francisco...

Rolling into San Francisco

So, I've arrived, I've made it. 3 weeks from the coast outta Portland to San Francisco City.

While the last few days were tiring (my legs were getting pretty sick of pedaling), the glee and sense of satisfaction as I saw San Francisco and the wonderful Golden Gate Bridge approach was worth it all.

So to back track a bit, concerning the actual ride, I must say that the southern section of the coastal ride on Highway 1 was pretty tough. Perhaps if I was in better shape it wouldn't have hit me so hard, but as it was, after doing some big hills in Humboldt State Park, once I hit Highway 1 on the coast the endless winding, and steep (but short) uphills and downhills really took its toll. All I wanted was to have a stretch of a few miles to get a pace set, but all I got was never-ending gear shifting as I went up and down along the coast (which was a very impressive coast- I have to admit).

Its also pretty narrow (re. sometimes non-existent shoulders of the road to ride on) but its a well known bike-riding route so many people are patient with you and give you the space to ride. I got a lot smiles and waves as I made my way up a particularly steep section of the route on Sunday arvo as people drove past, on their way home to San Francisco (I was within a day's drive at this stage) which was lovely. There's nothing quite like a smile or a thumb's up to give you the push to keep on going. So if you see a bike-tourer give them a wave- they'll probably appreciate the encouragement!

The scenery was surprisingly familiar, what with the dry scrubland and gum trees that line the coast- if it weren't the direction of car travel, I could've sworn I was in country Australia at times. And there was also a little agriculture I was surprised to see. I didn't hit wine valleys, but there's definitely that gourmet element that is now a part of central California.

So as I mentioned, I was pretty tired in those last few days, on account of such a big trip with so little exercise in preparation, but I now feel it was a good warm up, along with this week off now (between arriving in San Fran and getting to Ushuaia) and feel ready for what's ahead. I'm also keeping in mind that I'll have a much more relaxed schedule for South America, and can thus stop and start as I please, which I like the sound of!

This trip has definitely given me a taste for more bike-touring, and I hope that I can recruit a couple of friends or family for my next outing- it really does lighten the load when you are with others. Though, having said that, I have found it very manageable touring solo. I don't have an excess amount of stuff to carry, so its possible to carry all the essentials on your own (I do only have one set of rear panniers after all). I hope to head off on a couple of multi-day or week-long rides back in and around Melbourne when I return. Its such a nice way to travel.

Before I go, I want to thank all those I've met along the Oregon and Californian coast. So many friendly people who have shown kindness, generosity and friendliness that made this ride so enjoyable, and of course, all those other cyclists who are travelling on their own adventure and have been able to share advice, conversation and good will- they really are a good breed!

Muchas gracias!

(And apologies for the lack of photos in this entry, they are to come very soon, unfortunately this computer doesn't want to read my camera.)

P.S. Only one puncture this whole trip- courtesy of the bike mechanic over-inflating my tyres when I had a tune-up in Arcata! I feel rather happy about that! I don't believe the same will be said of those gravel-roads in South America. And on that note, I'm heading out to buy some tougher tyres...

Portland/Tillamook/South of Tillamook -> Arcata

Yeah, so, its offically from Portland - San Fran, but when the day arrived, with my trusty co-pilot Ingvill, we headed for the coast and skipped some boring outer-Portland riding. The ride officially started south of Tillamook (cheese country) half way up the hill of Cape Lookout (my sister Gaby has added these photos already).

It was a perfect start with clear weather (unlike most of my time on the Oregon coast). I succeeded in possibly the world's shortest day of bike touring with about 20km ridden by the end of the day- I did only start at 3pm after a late lunch and a glass of sparkling red, in my defence!

I stayed with a lovely retired couple and their nephew in Pacific City that evening (courtesy of warmshowers.org- a website for bike tourists that open their homes/yards to passing cyclists, check it out). From there on, its been camping in state parks where they have cheap hiker/biker camp sites for $4 a night. They're well maintained, some even supply free popcorn for some unknown reason (perhaps because its delicious??). I've followed Highway 101 which pretty much sticks to the coast for some great views that honestly out-wow most of the Great Ocean Road (sorry diehard Victorians!). But it also brings damp weather (possibly by fault of my own for travelling during this time of year, maybe?) which can be a little deflating. To get to your camp at the end of the day and still be a little damp isn't the best feeling in the world. But a hot shower usually makes up for it.


Crossing into California has been a warm and dry relief (so far). I crossed 4 days ago and its been pretty good ever since, though fog can be a problem. Seriously. You cannot see and cannot be seen. A wonderful example was last friday when I left Crescent City (one of the dingey-er areas of the US) in full, bright sunshine and climbed up a biggish hill into the Redwoods Forest, only to come down the other side, along the coast, and be sitting above an enormous layer of fog- quite heavenly, in every sense of the word. But then as I got closer to the bottom of the mountain, it became obvious its quite dangerous to ride in cos you really can't be seen from a distance. But that's what luck and bike lights are for!

And here I am in Arcata, after a few toasty nights at the Redwoods Hostel- which will close down in January 2010- its an historic building that needs too many repairs :( (http://www.norcalhostels.org/redwoods/). Arcata's a cool university town. Lots of great shops to get good food, and generally a good vibe. It definitely belongs on the West Coast. Still stuck with that flower-power aura from the 70's. I also did my first century of the bike ride so far, getting here (unfortunately a century in kilometre terms [100km] is no way near as impressive as the sort that comes in the 'miles' variety [~160KM]).


Next is a bit of an inland turn, then I'll get on California 1 and hit the coast again, singing my favourite Decemberist's song 'California One' along the way. Then San Fran next week before heading down old South America way, with some tougher legs than previously had 2 weeks ago.

Till then, peace and squirrels.

Also, no update on my bike's christening, I still can't name her/him/it. At this point in time, its the 'duck-truck'. I have a little rubber-ducky companion I have temporarily dubbed 'Eric'. I'll give that a test ride and see how it flies... Though I agree, it doesn't seem fair to re-neg on a name and change it, oh well!

Departure from Portland

Lucie visited her friend from uni, Ingvill, who is now living in Portland. Ingvill took these photos of Lucie's departure for her Tour de Oregon/California.