Day 6 was the day that my body did not want to cooperate with the plan to continue riding. Everything screamed to get off the saddle. Maybe it was the big several-mile long climb that greeted us as soon as we rolled out of camp. At any rate, I successfully talked Russ into stopping at a pub for lunch.

But the biggest climb of the day was yet to come. It’s such a steep climb that the official Oregon Coast Bike Route actually signs you off the 101 to a smaller road to cut the grade down a bit. Lesser grade, yes, but 4-5 straight miles of climbing. (This is the point in the story when I would flex my calf muscles if I were telling it in person.)

My happiness to finally roll into Lincoln City (our stop for the night) was, unfortunately, dampened by the fact that the hiker-biker area is literally across the street from a neighborhood. Yep, you pretty much feel like you’re camping in someone’s front yard. Hmmm… note to self… skip Lincoln City next time.

After Lincoln City, we were all rewarded with a nice short 25-mile ride into Newport. Since we were meeting my family, we pretty much just barreled through some of the little beach towns along the way. And then we were rewarded even further with a yurt to sleep in for the night. Yes, a yurt. With an actual mattress on an actual bed.

I think it was around Newport that I started to realize that my picture-taking had been continually dwindling. My original intention to take photos of all the campsites was dropped, and I was taking far fewer photos along the way. I think, when you’re so busy cycling up and over hills, with the Pacific Ocean at your right, you get so caught up in just being on the ride and enjoying what you’re doing, instead of focusing on documenting it so much. So you’ll just have to take my word for it that Newport had more road-kill than any other town along the 101.

Just north of Waldport, we pulled off at a little market. I was searching for cough drops to help ease the cold that I had picked up. Russ, however, had the best discovery – Tillamook bubble gum ice cream. Like a little kid, he asked the guy at the counter, “Is it too early for ice cream?” (It was about 10am.) So, bubble gum ice cream for Russ and cough drops for me. We needed the energy for the rest of the 55 mile day ahead of us.

South of Waldport, everything seemed to just drop away, and we were left with less-trafficked roads, fewer towns, more wind, and lots and lots of rolling hills hugging the ocean. A few miles before Florence, we hit the second (and final) tunnel of the ride. It kicked off a nice long climb. At the bottom, we pulled off to view a semi-spectacular natural wonder – a pitcher plant bog. Yep, those plants eat flies. And they’re native in that spot. Go figure.

From here, our foursome split up. We had gotten into a pretty good rhythm over the past several days that amounted to two separate tours going on side-by-side. We’d pass each other on the road and rendezvous in the evening at the campsite to tell stories. But, by the time Russ and I got up on day 10 to head east to Eugene, Dominic and Jayme were done riding, and decided to get a ride to Eugene instead of trekking through the wilderness with us.

So, Russ and I ventured off alone, down Smith River Road, on our two-day trek to Eugene. I had earlier assured Russ that there would be nothing to worry about, that we would be fine with the maps we had. Yes, stubbornness usually leads to problems down the road. The start of the road is nice, easy rolling hills along the river. Then the county-maintained road ends and you’re vibrating down a paved-gravel BLM-maintained road. There’s one tiny town about 15 miles in from the 101, and that’s the last chance for supplies. And water. I strapped a gallon jug of water to my bike, and crossed my fingers that it would be enough.

Of course, we were headed inland, which meant that the temperature was going up. By 1pm, it was easily over 80 degrees. The road is heavily forested on both sides, but it didn’t always provide a lot of shade. We stopped at the river that afternoon to put our feet in and eat lunch. Then came the fork in the road that threw a big curve-ball at us. It wasn’t anywhere on the map we had. We guessed a direction, and rode about 3 miles before ran into some campers who straightened us out and sent us back where we had come from. We threw in the towel when we got back to the fork in the road and just camped at the BLM campground there.

The next morning, we intentionally got up and out by 8am, so that we could do the majority of our long ride in the cool morning. And then we took a wrong turn. The signage on Smith River Road is terrible and totally confusing. So we misread the sign and ended up riding 16 miles out of our way. Ugh. Luckily (extremely luckily), we ran into two cyclists coming from Eugene that gave us half their map and pointed us in the right direction. Looking back, if we hadn’t run into them, we would have easily gotten lost again down the road. Knowing we still had a long way to go, we started riding. Up over some hills, up over some more hills, skimping on what little water we had. Fortunately, I had brought water purification tablets, so we had refilled the gallon jug before leaving that morning. But it was in the 90s that day, and one gallon for two people to ride for many hours just wasn’t enough. About 14 miles from Eugene, we veered off the route into the tiny town of Crow to stock up on water and get some cold drinks and snacks. Thank you Crow!

We plodded down the road, slowly, inching our way into Eugene. We found our way to the really nice bike lane that runs from the outskirts all the way downtown, and tried very hard to not wince every time we looked at the computer on my bike that was tracking how many miles we had ridden that day. By the time we finally rolled into our hotel, we had ridden 76 miles. That’s 20 more than I had ever ridden in one day. In the heat. Over some serious hills. With no water. Yeah, our official recommendation is to skip Smith River Road unless you’re VERY prepared.

So, all told, 580 miles around Oregon, including about 2/3 of the coast, carrying about 40 pounds of gear.

Would I do it again? Absolutely. What was great about this trip is that it gave us a chance to really feel out what it’s like to tour on bike. Turns out, it’s definitely the way to travel. You see so much more, you relax so much more, you actually feel like you're doing something, the rest of the world totally disappears. After just a few days into our trip, we felt like we'd been gone for weeks or months.

And, besides all that, you can eat whatever you want, because you can pretty much guarantee that, however big a meal you eat, you’ve already burned it all off.

We’ve already begun thinking about where our next tour will take us… Across the US? Down the Danube River Trail? New Zealand? We invite anyone to think about trekking somewhere with us via bike.

More photos are up on Flickr.

For Russ’s photos of the trip, visit his blog.

And for anyone who’s curious, here’s the list of gear that I took:

Specialized Sirrus commuter-style road bike, equipped with Nashbar mini front rack, Jandd back rack, Planet Bike fenders, Sophie the touring pig, and one New Belgium Brewery bell

Novara Transfer rear panniers
Ortlieb Ultimate 4 handlebar bag

REI Quarter Dome 3 UL tent
REI sleeping bag
REI LiteCore women's sleeping pad

2 pairs DeSoto tri shorts
1 pair casual shorts
1 pair casual pants
3 sleeveless wicking shirts
1 cotton casual t-shirt
1 long-sleeve wicking shirt
1 fleece jacket
1 waterproof cycling jacket
2 pairs wool socks
1 tu tu (unfortunately only worn at Tour de Fat)
1 pareo
1 pair Keen sandals (this is what I wear when riding)
1 pair flip flops
Quick dry towel

MSR WindPro stove
2 cannisters of fuel for stove
MSR Blacklight cookset
Spatula, can opener, knife, spork, potato peeler, camp plates, cutting board, small plastic mug

Book, journal, camera, phone & camera chargers
Headlamp
Spare tubes, patch kit, multi-tool, tire levers, extra spokes, crappy bike pump
First Aid kit

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