August 5, 2013 – Don’t you hate it when you end the day by getting the shit kicked out of you so that’s all you can really focus on. But there were many great things too.
We left Astoria later than anticipated, mainly because the wifi was so tragically useless and I was trying to get my photos uploaded. Once that was accomplished, we headed out to Seaside and had a stop to look around. What a wonderful little place. . . shrouded in fog (surprise) but still lovely. While we were standing talking, an older couple stopped next to us and asked if we wanted out photo taken — sure! We reciprocated and then had a little chat. They asked if we were Canadian, and when we said yes, he said “I thought I detected a slight accent.” We laughed about that for a bit, like they didn’t have any accent at all. . .
The end of the Lewis & Clark trail in Seaside, Oregon – bit foggy out
Kirk and I had just been saying that we wondered how people came here for a summer vacation unless they expected sun and didn’t know that the West Coast is usually shrouded in fog at this time of year. When we found out they were from Arizona, we asked. . . “why here?”
“It’s cool!” they said. We hadn’t ever considered that people would come looking for cool air and no sun!
As we rode back through town, a car rolled into the intersection where we were stopped and waiting at the four way stop. The driver glanced at us, and kept on rolling through without actually stopping. As he passed, we glance, and cringed. . . BC plate.
You never really appreciate how bad BC drivers are until you come into another country and every one you see drives like a nincompoop.
We rode on to Canon Beach and on the way there, another BC driver in a BMW was weaving, left lane camping, and then cut across two lanes to exit in front of us. Have you ever wanted to cover your licence plate in shame?
In Canon Beach we stopped at the end of the road looking over the beach and hopped off for a look. One nice thing about the bikes is that they allow you to sneak in where cars can’t, and down here, people don’t look at you like you are a satanist for doing it. Instead, they smile, and come chat with you! Kirk was practically accosted by a British gentleman who came rushing over and said “Your motorcycle pulls at my heartstrings…” and proceeded to chat Kirk up about his 1964 Triumph something or other. Forgive me, I tuned out and focused on the rock formations out in the surf. He would have chatted for hours I think.
Cannon Beach, Oregon
Canon Beach, Oregon – Kirk being engaged by a British fellow waxing on about his old Triumph 🙂
Haystack Rock at Canon Beach, Oregon
Haystack Rock at Canon Beach, Oregon
Windswept trees at Canon Beach, Oregon
On the ay out of Canon Beach we rode up to the onramp behind an MDX. . . with a BC plate. . . and waited while the driver block the lane while not taking the merge lane. Frig! WHY! And then he went straight out to the left lane. Sigh.
Outside of Canon Beach
Looking back at Haystack Rock at Canon Beach, Oregon
As we rode along we saw so many cute little towns that we wanted to stop in, but we knew we’d never get to our destination if we did, so we kept going. We saw some strange signs and sights along the way. We saw a sign – Blind Persons Crossing” – great, but how does the blind person know where it is? Just wondering. .
We also saw a restaurant called “Yummy Bowl”, which we laughed about later and caused a conversation with a stranger in Florence.
Rounding a bend in the road we passed a van at the side of the road. Why is that unusual? Well, the pink plastic jesus on the roof and the legs of a mannequin sticking out of the drivers window – one with a high heeled shoe on -was strange, and the sign on the back window with an arrow across the road said “Cool Stuff!” We kept on going.
Coming through a town called Rockaway and encountered the start of roads that made me come to the conclusion that a sadist was in the highways engineering department in Oregon, or at least in this area! The road looked ok, but it wasn’t! It took me awhile to get used to the chip tar in Washington, this shit here is an abomination of that stuff and tosses you around like a rag doll. The only safe place to ride is smack dab in the middle of the road. It was AWFUL!
Looking down the Oregon Coastline
Kirk above the Oregon Coast
We were pulling out a lot, not for entertainment, but to try and catch our breath and cill out a bit. We stopped a few times to look out over the pounding Pacific, and at the top of the hills looking down towards the beaches below. It was spectacular when we were out of the fog.
And fucking cold when we were in it!
We took a couple of twisty side roads, headed down into Pacific City for a pub lunch, but the wait was too long so we decided to push on. But not before scratching our heads at the cray pastime there of people walking up a huge sand dune. . . and running full tilt down it. . trying not to fall on their faces.
Yeah, that looks intelligent!
Strange sports in Pacific City
The beach at Pacific City
We wanted to push on to Florence and take a dune buggy ride so we snarfed down a power bar and rode on. But on the way, we just couldn’t help but take a few twisty side trips. How can you NOT take a road where the sign says this?
We can’t resist a sign like that. Side trip!!
Fabulous old bridge on the Oregon Coast
The cliffs along the Oregon coastline
We passed through Tilamook (stinky place), then through Lincoln City (totally uninteresting), and hit Newport (also totally uninteresting). Florence was just ahead, so to speak.
Or not.
The coast between Newport and FLorence is stunning. The road twists and winds along the cliffs, offering expansive views of the surf and sand far below.
At least I think it does.
Well, at least from the viewpoints it does.
We couldn’t really look the rest of the time as we were trying to stay alive.
Looking down the cliffs
Looking ahead to the dunes near Florence
There were two confounding factors working against us. The first was that aforementioned sadistic road engineer. Seriously, who paves a road in strips? The lane was paved in two fresh strips, sometimes with a gap between, but always with at least a half inch lip. So no big deal, stay on your half of the road, right?
Not when Mother Nature is having a PMS day and wants to blow everything and everyone off the road!
H O L Y SHIT!
The twists would have been fine, but the wind literally threw us around like rag-dolls. And the freaky part was that you didn’t even feel it. You’d lean into a corner, everything was fine, and then the bike would suddenly fly several inches to the side. But you never felt a breeze on your upper body. It was literally sucking the tires around on the road. I thought it was just me, being a newbie rider, doing something wrong. I was swearing inside my helmet, and finally resorted to singing “Lollypop, lollypop” inside my helmet to try and stay calm so I wouldn’t totally screw up. I grabbed the bars a few times and had to talk myself into sinking all weight into the pegs and off the forks or risk life and limb.
When we pulled off for a breather, Kirk said “Holy FUCK! I thought I was going to bite it a few times!”
Sadly, that made me feel a bit better. Not that he thought he was going to lose it, but that I wasn’t totally losing it and that the road was kicking the tar out of him too. It wasn’t just me being a poor rider.
Seriously though, it was awful and stressful, and tiring, and whatever else you want to add. I spent so much time talking myself into relaxing, forcing myself to let my arms be light, my grip be gentle, and put all the weight into my legs let the bike ride out the busts and not fight it. In those conditions it’s a struggle not not look at that centre line. If you look at it, you will go there, and that’s not where you want to go on a windy, twisty highway fill of blind corners and shitty pavement.
There are very few sport bikes on the trip, fewer sport touring bikes. The ride of choice is the Harley tour bike, and I am beginning to understand at least a few of the reasons. They are big and heavy, and they probably don’t get banged around as much, making them more comfortable for long tours. I am also beginning to understand one nice thing about the half helmets, you don’t get face chafe from constantly pulling it on and off when you stop often to take photos, or just rest. Not that I’m giving up either the bike or the helmet. Just an observation that I can see the benefits of both.
As we finally descended into Florence we stopped to regroup and agreed, no dune buggy ride necessary, we’d had all the adrenaline we needed for the day. What we needed was some food and a beer, badly!
The dunes we did NOT ride in a dune buggy – too much excitement already for more adrenaline!
We rode down into the old town and found a spot to ditch the bikes. We walked into a restaurant but were told there wasn’t a table until 9pm (it wasn’t even 6pm) and were told there was a sister restaurant across the street. Sounded good. And it had a table outside, even better. We ordered a couple of beers and dinner and in the end decided it wasn’t just a good decision, it was a fantastic decision. The food was amazing. I had a crab stuffed ravioli with lobster sauce, Kirk had a chicken penne. Both excellent, and so reasonable. Seriously, if you come here, this is the place for dinner! Restobar 12885.
And a beer NEVER tasted so good!
A much needed beer after a hair-raising ride
As we chatted and recounted the adventures so far, including laughing at place and business names (like Yummy Bowl), a voice behind us piped up and asked if we’d eaten there. No. We were told that it was really good food. The smiling fellow engaged us in a great conversation, gave us some tips on places to go and stay, and asked us if we’d eaten here before – no – and commended us on a lucky choice since it’s almost impossible to get a table here because it’s such a well known place with such great food.
1285 Ristobar – great food!
He asked us where we were from, and how the ride had been.When we said we’d taken a shit kicking he said our ride to Bandon would be better as it was off the coast from here on. That was welcome news.
The bridge out of Florence
He was right, it wasn’t terribly windy, or rather the wind was steady and from one direction so tolerable. And we had another half hour of that shitty strip paved highway taht some lunatic left for riders to deal with, but it wasn’t quite so terrible since the wind was easier to deal with in the shadow of some trees. But again, frig was it cold. The fog reached in like a hand gripping the coast and reaching for more, and those fingers of icy white haze chilled us to the bone. Enough that I had to pull off and hope Kirk noticed (he did) so I could pull on my rain jacket over my gear. It does double duty, breaks the wind, and turns me into a human pylon it is so brightly orange. Excellent!
We encountered temperatures from as low as 46F (8C) up to 82F (30C) int he course of a day. Sometimes we have seen temperature changes of over 20 degrees in a matter of miles. It’s something!
The road to Bandon seemed longer than the map displayed, ain’t that a shocker! But when we finally arrived and found our Inn, all we cared about was that the room was warm.
What a strange hope in August!
The bikes were parked and we changed and went for a walk to work out the stiffness and kinks, and look for a place to have a warming bowl of chowder and a bottle of wine. There is a place here that creates art from beach debris, and it is both awesome, and saddening. Sad that we can’t live without plastic and that so much crap is floating around out there and littering our beaches and killing marine life.
Unusual (and very large!!) sculptures made entirely out of plastic beach debris
The town is small, just the way we like them, and we found a great place down by the marina. The chowder was filling and warmed out chilled cores back up.
The fog is creeping back into Banden for the night
And so ends another day. Tomorrow we head inland to find the sun and warmth! Here is today’s ride – it looks straightforward, but it wasn’t!