Saturday, June 28, 2014

Dark Skies and Shining People

I'm aware I update this blog sporadically, but when on the road, life itself is hardly routine.

We've traveled 700 miles. We're two days from Portland, OR. We've been on the road for about two weeks, although I can hardly remember what the day is let alone how many days it's been. My glutes are sore. My coccyx hurts whenever I get back onto my saddle. My hunger is never satiated. I can't stop drinking coffee.
And yet, every day is spent in magic despite any troubles that come our way.

When I first saw an Oregon beach, my breath was literally taken away. This happens almost every single day in the Pacific Northwest. The rivers are clear and the mountains are decorated in spruces. In some areas, it feels like I'm riding through a rainforest. The moss on the tree branches. The misting on my face and the fog on the ground like someone is hiding in the ferns somewhere pouring water on dry ice. The roads endlessly wind and the hills here are much easier to traverse than in California. We have gone from 40 miles per day to 60.

Rain is so commonplace here. In Florida, rain comes in like a typhoon, but usually only for twenty minutes. In the Pacific NW, it rains for a week; lightly misting and sprinkling. Life goes on. It's not something I'm fond of in all honesty.

On our ride up here, the skies had been clear. Within two days of Eugene, the weather took a turn.
We camped out in a remote state park with no other hikers or bikers. In the morning, we found that it had rained and was still doing so. Luckily, our cheap tent wasn't as cheap as I had thought and kept us dry throughout the night.
I turned over to Hunter and told him, "Happy birthday". With the onset of rain, Hunter just blew air through his teeth.
Let me tell you, biking through the rain isn't fun. It's especially frustrating after the 20th mile with your socks and shoes full of water. The softest rain becomes unbearable as I zoom downhill. It pelts me in the face. It whips my eyes and makes me half blind upon dangerous descents.
We were still 100 or so miles from Eugene and would need to stay the night somewhere. However, there is nothing between Coos Bay and Eugene except for tiny towns, most without a grocery store. There are no state parks. There are hardly any inns. Except one.

We rode about 40 miles into a super tiny town named Elkton. No grocery store. Just a general store and a gas station. Oh, and a bed and breakfast called Rivers Inn Elkton. The rain was pouring on us when we arrived. My entire bike, gear, and clothing were sopping. Bambi hid beneath a makeshift tarp in her basket. Everything but her head remained dry due to her endless curiosity.

Under the cover of a porch, an older woman, Margaret, and an older fellow, Jim, smiled. Immediately they wanted to help; pulling our bikes in from the rain and asking if there was anything they could carry upstairs for us. We weren't prompted to pay and instead were led up to our room.
A very small box television with a VCR sat in the corner of the room. The walls were painted faux wood. Paintings you'd find in your grandparents' home refreshed the walls and contributed to the overall vibe of homey.
Margaret took us on a short tour of the upstairs of her home. The inn half was the second story and below was her and her husband's living quarters. She pointed immediately to the shower.
"You'll want to take a shower first I'm sure."
She showed us the kitchenette full of tea and coffee.
"Oh, and here is the Jacuzzi."
"Jesus Christ," I uttered followed by, "Sorry, I'm just..." and then trailed off into nothing.
Hunter left with Margaret to accompany her to the local dump and hitch a ride to the corner store.

I immediately walked into the Jacuzzi room and turned it on. The lights automatically dimmed. As I stripped down, Hunter opened the door behind me. My startle was soon calmed by the mention of food. Margaret was going to make us sandwiches.
I eased myself into the tub. The hot water flowed over my body. My tailbone cried out in relief and pain and then relief again. I sank to the bottom, held my nose, and submerged my head.
This was something I hadn't been able to do in so long. Since I was a child, really. With my new sweater from the dollar store and the bath, I felt rejuvenated far beyond my present complications. I returned to some of my glory days. I was seven years old, diving into my grandmothers' swimming pool, not brushing my hair, jumping on my pogo stick, and causing trouble.
When I left the bath dressed in the robe I found, I sat to have some tea and watch the rain continue to fall. Margaret came upstairs with grilled cheese sandwiches and heated edamame. A yellow plum adorned both of our plates. We quickly devoured the food as we talked to her.
She reminded me of my grandmother and I was put more at ease.

She left and returned with two bowls of chocolate icecream. In a upbeat version of the song, she sang to Hunter.
"Happy birthday to you..."
I joined in, Hunter smiled.
"Having a better birthday now?" I asked.
"Yes, this is so much better than sleeping outside in the rain in wet clothes."
Margaret offered to do our laundry and of course we obliged.

I looked through their VHS library and found Back to the Future.I swiped in from the shelf and for the next two hours, Hunter and I watched Marty McFly change history on a television from the 80's.
"It's so weird watching this movie in this time period about a time period before another one. We're so far removed," Hunter thought aloud.

In the morning, there was coffee and biscuits. There were porkchops and Bambi had half of one. We sat on the porch for most of the morning chatting about our trip. Hunter played one of his songs with a borrowed guitar.

The Rivers Inn was such an amazing experience. It was an oasis in the middle of rural Oregon. The owners were genuinely hospitable. Unlike the southern hospitality you hear so much of which tends to be flat and faked, Margaret and Jim really cared about us. I'm sure I'll visit them again someday.




4 comments:

  1. This was such a sweet post! I am Margaret's daughter and your kind words about Mom & Jim brought tears to my eyes and a smile in my heart. They are truly the most genuine people I know! So glad you enjoyed your stay!

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    1. Awe! Thank you for this comment. It made my morning. :]

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  3. Beautiful pictures! Sounds like a lovely place and kind people to put you up.

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