Day 1. Thursday, August 1, 2002. Phoenix to San Francisco via car. 770 miles, 12 hours. Arrive in Berkeley  at 8 pm. Wendy and Dave Stegman put us up for the night.

Day 2. Construct the Stegman kitchen and go bowling. Due to the fact that we are taking the tandem on the train, we have to box it. Thus, we spend an hour driving around Berkeley looking for bike boxes. After scoring 2 boxes, we return home for the packing. The bike makes it into a box that is 7 ½ feet long. Upon arrival at the Oakland depot, we check the bike (only $10 to carry it), BOB, and bag. The train's an hour late, due to the fact that they had to arrest someone who kept smoking on the train, but we're in no rush, so we walk around the marina for a bit. At 10:45, we kiss the Stegmen goodbye and board Amtrak for the great Northwest. Sleeper cars are the way to go. Only $40 more than coach (for the 2 of us), but you actually get a place to sleep, free meals, movies, and beverages.

Day 3. The morning begins with the announcement that we are going to have to sit for two hours because a freighter derailed somewhere near Shasta. We didn't care because we just kept sleeping. Lunch and dinner on the train, followed by a bottle of wine supplied by our Berkeley hosts. At 9 pm, only 5 hours late, we pull into Portland. The depot is cool. The baggage pick up area is a rustic wooden desk, straight out of some western flick. We get our stuff, assemble it in the station and ride downtown. Advantages of taking the train: only $10 to take tandem (it would have cost $70+ to fly it), it's much more comfortable than flying, we got to take our stove and flammable liquids which are not allowed on planes, and free meals. Disadvantages: it took us 22 hours to get to Portland. But we're on vacation, so it's cool. We find some random motel in the city and crash for the night. Distance: 3 miles.

Day 4. Finally we get to do some real biking. Load up the BOB and the panniers and we're ready to roll (Figure 1). It took quite a while to navigate our way out of Portland, due to the cryptic directions that are in the book. Also, due to the fact that we never looked at a map of Oregon before the trip, we choose to take highway 30 to Astoria. It's 90 miles to the coast, with a fairly serious northward vector (the route we chose turned out to add about 100 miles to the total trip). There's a bit of a headwind, but seeing as how it's our first day, we power on through the rain and the wind and the hills. The book says there's nowhere to camp, but we find that in some little town with a name we can't pronounce (Clatskani), there is a city park where you can camp, and it just so happened that a bluegrass festival ended that morning, and some of the musicians were still there. That night we were treated to a jam session while sheltered between RV's. Distance: 65 miles.

Day 5. We rolled down the rest of the way to the coast and headed south. We picked up the Oregon Coast Bike Route Map, an indispensable resource for the next few hundred miles. Astoria is the northernmost point of Oregon on the coast. There we saw the Columbia River Museum, but it was 9 bucks apiece to get in, so we just looked at the ships in the marina (Figure 2). Now that we are on the 101, the traffic is intense. There are trucks and RV's buzzing along at top speed while cars and SUVs weave between them like Ti-fighters. The day ended in Cannon Beach, a tourist town with a beach and 3 coffee houses, none of which were open after 9 p.m. Distance: 64.8 miles.

Day  6. This day includes a trip to the Tillamook cheese factory, the most commercial, expensive, and crowded cheese factory on our tour. Unfortunately, this experience made us lose all desire to visit other cheese factories along the way. My achilles tendons start to ache. As far as I can tell, this is a function of the geometry with my relatively new shoes, with cleats that are too far forward. It will take the rest of the trip to deal with this issue, but it makes us deviate from our original course. There is the 3-Capes Alternate route, which extends the route 10 miles and the climbing by a few thousand feet. We opt out of this extended route and avoid the hills. This lands us in Whalen Island, a tiny island surrounded by tidal flats. Our deviation turned out to be beneficial, because this is where we meet up with Luke and Larry (Figure 3 and Figure 4). These two specimens of masculinity are doing the entire Pacific coast route from Vancouver B.C. to Mexico. Earlier that day, Larry had been hit by a truck, and the driver wanted Larry to pay for the damages to the side view mirror. I'm fairly surprised the guy survived the meeting. We wound up hanging out with these guys for the next 9 days. We like them a lot because they told us about the Rogue Brewery which we would encounter the next day. Distance: 60.8 miles.

Day 7. The traffic is getting worse, but we're getting more accustomed to it, because the shoulders are generally wide. There were also a couple of segments where we got off the 101 for a bit. These alternate routes turn out to be the best road riding in the southwest. The day ends at South Beach state park, only 2 miles south of the town of Newport. We set up camp and bike back into town for dinner and beers. We visited the Rogue brewery and I was impressed. They had 22 beers on tap. I had no idea anybody could make that many brews, but these guys do it with style. We suck down a few pints and head back to camp to end the longest day yet. That night we meet PJ, an unemployed jack of all trades who also started in Vancouver and is likely to go all the way to Mexico. Distance: 72 miles.

Day 8. The terrain is rolling and relatively fast. We stop at cape Perpetua and take the 2 mile hike up to the top (Figure 5). From there, we got some nice views of the coast to the south (Figure 6). We see Luke and Larry a couple times during the day and meet up in the evening at Jesse Honeyman State Park. There are some sweet dunes here and the hiker/biker sites are in a nice secluded glade. Here is where we meet three new members of the clan, Bridget, Ari, and Achillius. All three are from the Bay area doing a short tour of the pacific route. The evening is full of story swapping and bike fitting, as Ari is a fitter at City Cycles in San Francisco. Distance: 55.4 miles.

Day 9. We decided to take it easy for a day so that we can work on nursing our minor pains. Crossing the bridge into North Bend is annoying without any shoulder as the masses of impatient vacationers attempt to pass us. My middle finger gets lots of use on that stretch. I buy a pair of pedals and toeclips and we spend the night in a motel so we can ice some body parts. Merry watches 2 episodes of the Facts of Life, reminding us why we don't normally watch T.V.  Distance: 45 miles.

Day 10. We roll out of North Bend in a fog with a significant tailwind. It's cold, but we're cruising so fast, we don't really care. We entered a section that is supposed to be heavily forested, but it turns out it had all be cut down in the past few years. It's sad, but the scenery was still nice and we were on a section with very little traffic. We hammer out our fastest day with an average of 15.8 mph. We stop at a roadside park that was the site of some white people killing lots of natives in the name of Manifest Destiny (Figure 7). In the background you can see Humbug mountain, where we spent the night. Again, a beautiful set of hiker/biker camping sites and a really cool beach.  Distance: 66.8 miles.

Day 11. The day started relatively hot and just got cooler as the day went on. This was the last full day in Oregon. When we rolled into Brookings, ash from the forest fires was falling like fine snow. Both the sun and the moon were blood red and the haze was fairly intense. But it made for one spectacular sunset (Figure 8). We spent the night in Harris Beach State Park. Distance: 54.4 miles.

Day 12. We weren't quite aware of how nice it was in Oregon until we left. The shoulder was often under the legal width to be designated a bike lane, but at least there was always some sort of shoulder, as well as the signage notifying autos of our presence on the roadways. Once we crossed into California, the shoulder disappeared completely and the drivers, who should have been the same as those we saw in Oregon become insane. As we were climbing the first hill, trucks and cars were buzzing us seemingly as close as they could. We learned to appreciate road construction that day.  Construction and construction workers are the bicyclist's friend. Perhaps it is because they understand trying to survive on a busy roadway while people cruise by recklessly in vehicles they can barely control. Perhaps its because most drivers bitch at the construction workers for making them slow down on their vacation, while we are more likely to roll up and start a conversation. Whatever the reason, these guys like bikers and will help us out by providing a safer route whenever possible by either letting us go earlier or holding the traffic longer to allow us free passage. The second thing construction does is bunch up and thin out the traffic departing the construction zone. Despite these effects to alleviate the traffic, by the time we got down the first hill, we were seriously considering bailing on the coastal route and finding a friendlier way home (Figure 9). But then, out of the mountains sailed Luke and Larry, with the best road score of the trip. Luke had found a large orange construction flag and had fastened it to the back of Larry's bike. This token from our construction friends was a sign and a good luck piece that would see us safely to our destination. Merry and I both cheered up once we reunited with our fiends, and easily made it to the Elk Prairie deep within the Redwood forest. The surprising thing about California is not that they have hiker/biker sites, but that they only charge $1 per person to camp there. The showers were pay, but I had no trouble shelling out a total of $2 for a shower and place to sleep. Perhaps California isn't all that bad. This is where Fritz officially joined up with our group. He was a bit over 3000 miles into his ride at this point and would be finishing in Chile sometime in the next few months. Distance: 66.3 miles.

Day 13. The 101 was mostly freeway for this leg of the journey, which wasn't as bad as it sounds. The freeway has a very large shoulder and the cars aren't very likely to cross over the white line in an attempt to squash us. It certainly wasn't as picturesque as other sections of the ride, and the exhaust was pretty ubiquitous, but we made good time and were relatively safe. We passed through the town of Arcata, and only camped 3 miles past it, so we decide to return later that evening. We set up camp in the Eureka KOA, the least pleasant camping site of the trip, but because all 9 of us are there, we make do and enjoy the evening. The two of us and PJ brave the 101 to return to Arcata for a visit to the Humboldt Brewing Company. The beers were satisfying, and the clientele interesting, making it an enjoyable evening. The ride back to the KOA was unnerving as the visibility was low and our lights were insufficient for freeway riding, but we were able to navigate back to the KOA by the glow of the Christmas lights. Distance 55.7 miles.

Day 14. The first half of the day took us through the town of Eureka and back onto the freeway. But by early afternoon, we had made it to the Avenue of the Giants. This is the winding country road that lets you get up close and personal with the Redwood trees. We stopped at a little produce stand where a 10 year old girl sold us blackberry popsicles that she and her family made from berries from their garden. The 3-acre "garden" that the family cultivated was the most impressive and diverse food source I have ever seen. This family had no problem obtaining enough organically-grown produce to feed themselves and provide extra income. It has to be lots of work, but it certainly seemed worth it. That night, we wound up in Hidden Springs State Park. There were no designated hiker/biker sites, so they gave us regular campsites for the $1 per person rate. We didn't complain, but there wasn't the cozy feel of our company all sharing the same living space. So we all just hung out in one place that night, and each retired to their own site for sleeping (Figure 10). Distance: 59.4.

Day 15. The Breaking of the Fellowship. That morning, the first break occurred. For the past few days, parallels had started to be drawn between our biking family and the Fellowship of the Ring. There were nine of us on this Journey, and only two had pledged to finish it, the rest either had their own agenda or could only accompany the group part way. Luke was certainly Frodo; it was his idea to start the journey, and he was aware from the beginning what it would take to finish it. Larry was Sam; he was the sidekick. Larry had flown to Seattle, where he bought a bike and gear for the trip. He had no idea what it would cost him physiologically to complete their journey, but there was absolutely no way he would quit, so he just did it. When the hills got steeper, he pedaled harder. When he got hit by a truck, he became more cautious, but never considered giving in. Merry and I were Merry and Pippin. We assumed these unfortunate characters because we were just a couple of jokesters that would ride along for as long as it suited us. PJ was Aragorn; he had begun a very similar journey to Frodo and Sam's, and he could very well accompany those two to the bitter end, if that was the way the winds blew him. That and he cranked out a >100 mile day between Portland and Tillamook. Fritz was most definitely Legolas; the journey that we were on was such an insignificant distance as compared to what he was in the midst of riding. Achillius could be Gandalf; simply because he would appear at the most unexpected times, mostly very late at night. Bridget was Gimli; not because she looked like a dwarf, but because she had the fortitude worthy of a hairy man carrying an ax.  Perhaps the least like his character was Ari, who was only Boromir because at first meeting he seemed to be fairly full of himself, but in the end he turned out to be a helpful and friendly companion.
That morning, we bid farewell to Luke and Larry who had decided to stay at Hidden Springs and enjoy the Redwood Forest for an extra day and heal their wounds. Achillius made a last-ditch effort to convince the two to continue with the group, but their minds were made up. The rest of us made plans to meet up at a park in 45 miles. When we arrived at the rendezvous spot, Ari, Bridget, and PJ had already held council and decided to push on an extra 25 miles over the highest climb on the Pacific route, Leggett. This turned our easiest day into our toughest. Merry and I agreed, and we all departed leaving an empty camp for Achillius who was probably an hour behind us. When he got to the spot, he would have to decide for himself whether to camp there or climb to join his friends. The climb over Leggett was brutal, but it wasn't as bad as the descent down the other side. The climb was on the interior of the mountain, while the descent was on the ocean-facing slope. The temperatures on the way up were near 100 F. But only 2 miles into the descent, we hit the fog and the cool air so that the temperature dropped below 60. The effect was brutal on our sore legs. We had to stop and stretch in the sun halfway down the hill. There is a hill that follows Leggett, it's only about an 800' climb, but it is steeper and more sustained. This is the hill that broke us. For the first time in the trip, we had to stop and take a break while climbing. We pulled into Westport Union Beach camp ready for the day to be done. There was no sign of Achillius that night. Distance: 68.7 miles.

Day 16. The Final Act. We calculated 25 miles to Mendocino. Thanks to cell phones, which only seem to work when you hold them above the height of your head (Figure 11), we called Wendy and planned to meet her in Mendocino at 1 pm. We said our goodbyes to Bridget, Ari, PJ, and Fritz and rode off into the foggy morning for the last part of the ride. It turns out that it was 31 miles to Mendo, and it was the toughest 31 miles of the entire coast. The road was highway 1, so the traffic wasn't bad, but it followed the coast right on the edge of the cliff. Every stream or break in the cliff, we would have to ride down the steep grade, make a sharp turn and climb all the way back up into the wind. Half way through the ride, we weren't sure it we were going to make it to Mendocino on time, but as we got further south, it smoothed out and we showed up within 5 minutes of Wendy. We got off the bike in downtown Mendocino, 772.6 miles from Portland.
We packed all the stuff onto the car and headed up to friends of Dave and Wendy who own the Esterlina Winery. There we drank lots of wine, and spent the night in a cottage overlooking the fertile Anderson Valley (Figure 12).

Day 17.  We awoke to find our hosts cooking us breakfast. We ate and chatted until early afternoon, and started the drive back to Berkeley. On the road out of town, we saw Bridget and Ari taking the inland route south. The fellowship had broken almost completely. We assumed that PJ and Fritz had continued on together, and Luke and Larry were certainly still at it. The 4 of them most likely made it all the way to Mexico, and who knows if Fritz is ever going to stop.
We got back to Berkeley, saw another old friend Gish, and crashed at the Stegman's.

Day 18. Sunday, August 18, 2002. San Francisco to Phoenix via car. 770 miles, 12 hours. Arrive in Phoenix  at 9 pm.