We've gotten lost in the woods, met the worst type of bros, started hallucinating, caught a bus, and I just had an asthma attack halfway up the side of a mountain.
Did I mention we're in Oregon? I still can't believe we made it to a different state.
Have you ever had to push a loaded bicycle up a seventy degree angle mountainside through creeks and mud all while the sun is about to go down leaving you victim to the dark forest's wildlife?
We had biked 50 miles that day to the Elk's state park in NorCal. On the side of the road, wild elk grazed and we were warned about the female elk in heat and how dangerous they could be. Hunter had lost his phone. We stopped at the park's welcome center and after he found it we left. We wanted to go another ten miles for the day and we knew of another Hike N Bike camp just a little ways down the road.
The main park was too touristy for our tastes.
As we climbed a hill for at least three miles, several cyclists going south were a bit confused on why we would have passed the main camp.
We reached the trail that would lead us to the alternate campsite and proceeded to push our bikes into the woods. We hadn't eaten in a while. If we were cars, the empty fuel light would be on. Sweating and eager to rest, we pushed our bikes downhill unable to ride them on the trail. We reached the beach trail. Scat was everywhere. Driftwood peaking from the long grass looked just like elks' antlers.
The main park was too touristy for our tastes.
As we climbed a hill for at least three miles, several cyclists going south were a bit confused on why we would have passed the main camp.
We reached the trail that would lead us to the alternate campsite and proceeded to push our bikes into the woods. We hadn't eaten in a while. If we were cars, the empty fuel light would be on. Sweating and eager to rest, we pushed our bikes downhill unable to ride them on the trail. We reached the beach trail. Scat was everywhere. Driftwood peaking from the long grass looked just like elks' antlers.
When we saw the that the coastal trail was not a road, but a sandy glimmer of what used to be a hiking trail, we were filled with anxiety. There was no campsite in this area despite what the maps had told us.
Later, a ranger would confirm the absence of the site.
Taking a breath of fresh ocean air, I looked passed my panic and saw the painting that is the Pacific Ocean. The huge rock formation jutting into the sky. The cliffs. The dark royal blue color of the ocean. The pale yellow sand of the shore. This was the beach of Dali's famous piece, Persistence of Memory. At this inflection, a humpback whale flew out of the sea and fell back into it, creating an enormous splash. I stood in awe until Hunter brought me back.
"We have to get back to the main road. The sun's going to set."
He was right. The sun would disappear in an hour's time and it was going to take at least an hour to get out of the forest. The panic returned and we began to drudge our bikes through the sand and onward up the steepest hill we've yet encountered.
Leaning all the way over my bike and parallel to the ground, I used every ounce of upper body strength I had (which isn't much) struggling to get myself, Bambi, and my bike out of the forest before nightfall. The mixture of panic and vigorous exercise caused an asthma attack that I just pushed through. I was sweaty and dizzy. I felt like I was going to faint.
"C'mon babe, we're not out of the woods just yet!" Hunter egged me on. "Literally."
A small chuckle escaped between my heaving breaths.
There were points where I was screaming up the incline just to push my body upwards.
"We gotta get out of here. I don't want to get eaten. If you faint, then we're all gonna die," Hunter warned, perhaps overdramatically. Perhaps not.
Later, a ranger would confirm the absence of the site.
Taking a breath of fresh ocean air, I looked passed my panic and saw the painting that is the Pacific Ocean. The huge rock formation jutting into the sky. The cliffs. The dark royal blue color of the ocean. The pale yellow sand of the shore. This was the beach of Dali's famous piece, Persistence of Memory. At this inflection, a humpback whale flew out of the sea and fell back into it, creating an enormous splash. I stood in awe until Hunter brought me back.
"We have to get back to the main road. The sun's going to set."
He was right. The sun would disappear in an hour's time and it was going to take at least an hour to get out of the forest. The panic returned and we began to drudge our bikes through the sand and onward up the steepest hill we've yet encountered.
Leaning all the way over my bike and parallel to the ground, I used every ounce of upper body strength I had (which isn't much) struggling to get myself, Bambi, and my bike out of the forest before nightfall. The mixture of panic and vigorous exercise caused an asthma attack that I just pushed through. I was sweaty and dizzy. I felt like I was going to faint.
"C'mon babe, we're not out of the woods just yet!" Hunter egged me on. "Literally."
A small chuckle escaped between my heaving breaths.
There were points where I was screaming up the incline just to push my body upwards.
"We gotta get out of here. I don't want to get eaten. If you faint, then we're all gonna die," Hunter warned, perhaps overdramatically. Perhaps not.
After an hour of pain, I saw a car shoot up beyond the trees. Elated, I yelped, "Oh my god! I never thought I'd be so happy to see a car! A fucking car!"
We coasted downhill on our return to the Elk camp where we met some of the biggest douchebags I've ever encountered. (Bambi liked 'em though. She likes everybody.)
After such a long day, I just wanted to pass out, but oh no, these guys weren't about to let that happen. We talked to them a bit. Ex-military. Superbros. Budweiser for breakfast bros. They not only collected wood illegally to burn, but proceeded to loudly vocalize their ignorance throughout the night, until 2 in the morning. Unable to sleep, I listened to them make homophobic, sexist, and anti-immigration remarks. They then woke up at 7 am and blasted their radio, still drinking. How rude can you be?
The next day was hard. So difficult that midday resulted in my hallucinating. Riding through our last day of Redwoods, children's faces looked back at me from the trunks of the trees. If you've seen the Haunting, you could understand how unnervingly creepy this was. Paranoia set in. I kept seeing shadow figures run in my peripheral vision. I decided to only look at the road.
Upon reaching Crescent City, we found that it was in fact not a city, but an abandoned small town full of hitchhikers. We stayed at a motel for the night, unable to locate any campgrounds. When I finally got into bed to sleep, the figures and paranoia returned. I pulled a blanket to the floor and literally wrestled my demons until the middle of the night.
Time to head out once more if I want to get to a campsite tonight,
Nik
Time to head out once more if I want to get to a campsite tonight,
Nik
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