A Meeting with the Coast, Part 2

While in Tri-cities I fell victim to a moment of liberality with my money, entering an IHOP and asking if they had the all you can eat pancake deal going on I'd been informed of by a friend. The waitress I spoke with said that it was normally available only from 6-8 am, but after some enjoyable conversation she said she'd ask her manager if they'd allow me to have it now (the time being around 5pm) since I was under somewhat special circumstances with my trip. She returned with good news and seated me in a booth. I asked for a pot of coffee and within minutes set off on my journey through 14 delectable buttermilk pancakes topped with butter and a variety of syrups, and accompanied by all the coffee I could drink.

With a full belly and a surplus of energy I rode west toward the next town, and after a few hours of information gathering, made camp in the town park of Benton City. As I was setting up my tent I witnessed a drunken high school domestic disturbance unfold in front of me, involving two girls and a very drunken teenage boy. It was an uncomfortable introduction to this little town, and this, paired with my experiences of the other citizens here, left me with a somewhat bitter impression of this small town in Washington. In my head I noted how the people here seemed very primitive for being so close to a populous area.

The sign in the town park had a warning on it stating "Closed from 10pm to 6am". I had ignored it, taking it only as a suggestion intended to ward of people such as myself, but when 10pm came along the sprinklers were triggered and my tent and I were greeted with an intermittent spray of water. I was unprepared, but immediately took action, shoving all of my belongings to a sheltered side of the tent, then unzipping the door, hopping out, and quickly picking the tent up and moving it to a sprinkler-free area. I spent the next few hours worrying that sprinklers would attack at any moment, and eventually fell asleep around 2 or 3 o'clock.

At 6am some park official woke me up with shouts of "Hey! You in the tent! Wake up!" and told me to get a move on, as camping wasn't allowed here. I had figured as much and accepted that I wasn't going to get any more sleep, so I packed up my things, ate a bit of ramen and started another day of riding.

At this point I began my trek toward Yakima. It began well enough, but at some point just before getting into town I was faced with yet another flat tire and a broken spoke. At this point I had around 37 dollars left in my checking account. Once in Yakima I borrowed a phone book from a McDonald's and started calling the local bike shops to find out who would be the cheapest to fix a spoke. All of them responded with the ridiculous estimate of around $15 (before now spokes had been around $5-8 to fix). Then I gave a call to the guy who helped me build my bike in SC to see if he had any ideas, and he said that with all of the spokes I was breaking it would be best to buy a new wheel entirely. With this in mind I decided to go to the bike shop which advertised itself as being a friendly, family-owned shop, hoping they'd be sympathetic to my situation and might give a discount to a poor, sad traveler.

The person I spoke with at the bike shop was kind enough to give me a wheel for $35 and this solved my problem I'd been having with spokes for the time being. So with about two dollars I, yet again, continued my journey west. The next stop would be Mt. Rainier National Park, which already from Yakima, I could clearly see the peak of, still being at least 60 or 70 miles away.

That night I met a middle aged man who had passed me on the road earlier. He had zoomed by leaving me with the question in my head of "How is he doing that?" When he approached me farther down the road, having arrived at his house, he explained he had an electrically enhanced bike of some sort which gave him an extra push. He offered me a ride to the next campground and told me that he had tried to do a bike ride around all of the outer states of America back in the late 60's when 10-speed bikes had just emerged on the market. Starting in the fall and going south along the California shoreline he faced rain every day and eventually became sick and had to end his journey, returning home by train. He wanted to continue the journey, but unfortunately before he was able to, he was drafted into the Vietnam war and then was married while away, and through time his goal faded away. I explained I was just going to continue riding and said goodbye. The weather was approaching the high 90s during the day and he explained before I departed that once I approached the mountains the weather would cool down.

Washington

Crawling over the mountains, the land changed from the dryness I'd been experiencing into spreads of green pines extending up to the bare rocky peaks. I rode through the valleys between the mountains along a moderately flat route until the land's elevation started to gradually increase as I approached the mountain. When I got to the pass near the mountain I turned a corner bending around what I thought was an impressive peak, and continuing around the bend, an incredible snow-covered mountain extended far above the surrounding peaks was unveiled. Immediately in front of me was a pond, spreading across a valley, still as a pane of glass. The snow covered immensity was reflected so beautifully in the pond and the entire sight was so immediate and new that I was overwhelmed. The size of this mountain is really quite indescribable, and I'm sure my photographs don't even approach the emotions felt during this experience. Once again, this is something you need to go out and see for yourself to really understand.

Mount Rainier

After taking in as much of Mount Rainier as my constitution could handle I began the easy downhill ride and also began scouting for what would be my campsite. Just after the land leveled off I looked right and saw a trio of trees which were the largest I've seen in my life and knew this was the place. Seeing a tree bigger than you're used to is a very surreal thing to experience. Throughout my life I've gathered a general idea of what size things are supposed to be, but every once in a while I see something that is nature's exception and every instance fills me with an unexpected awe and a strange happiness.

The next day I took a late start, enjoying being among such fine examples of life. The ground around me was covered in moss, with ferns and sprays of green and brown shooting into the air around me. Vines and leaves, and patches of light peaking around the canopy above left me with a feeling of creative euphoria, so I mounted my bike and set off down the road.

Soon enough I saw a very welcome sign saying "Visitors Center Next Left, FREE COFFEE." The shade of the trees cast over the road left a chill in the morning air and this was exactly what my belly was craving. So I went in and was greeted by the ranger on duty, filled a paper cup with coffee, poured a packet of powdered cream into the dark liquid and stirred. Back outside I had a seat on the picnic table and sipped the morning brew. Everything about this moment was perfect. The smell of pine trees and the fresh cool feeling of the forest air around me melded perfectly with this coffee. I'd never enjoyed a cup of coffee more, and I don't expect to ever again. Everything was perfect.

Eventually I left the forest and approached Enumclaw, which turned into Buckley, then Bonney Lake, Sumner and Puyallup, all seperate units of the same city really. By the time the sun was approaching the horizon I was in downtown Tacoma, and didn't know what I was going to do for camp being in such a populated area, completely unsure of how safe the city parks would be. I pulled up to where I had planned on entering the highway and the sign displayed a dismal "Pedestrians, Hitchhikers, and Bicycles Prohibited." It was a Friday night and I was lost in the city with no way out.

I went to a gas station and borrowed a phone book. I tried calling the local police and asked them if there were any bike routes they knew of and I wasn't very surprised when they said they didn't have any idea. So without anything else to do I just started riding. At an intersection I asked a lady where I could find the library and she told me to turn right a few blocks down. Where she had directed me led straight up a hill, so I began pedaling up it and before too long my backwheel became offset and started to rub against the chainstay, severely hindering my efforts. I stopped on the side of the road to realign the wheel and above me, in the building I was next to a kid was sitting in the window, peering down. He said hello and I returned his greeting which led into a conversation of sorts and continued into him offering to allow me to use his girlfriend's Ipod for the internet (which is why I was going to the library in the firstplace). I said alright and they let me up into the building which turned out to be an art commune where local artists paid a little rent for a small room and shared their creativity, hopefully inspiring eachother into action through art. So I was let into their room, a small space of about 10"x12" or so, with an added loft to increase floor space. It was quaint, but had character and I liked where I was at.

The kid's name was Jeremy and he lived in this room with his girlfriend Kimber. I started using the internet searching for bike routes through Tacoma, hopefully leading through Olympia, and we had conversation spanning from travel to music and art and everything in between. These were the first kids I'd met on my trip that I shared anything in common with. They listened to the same music as me, shared a lot of the same interest in books and politics. It was a completely random meeting of kids sharing a similar moment in life, coming from opposite sides of the country.

Kimber had backpacked through Europe, squatted in Greece, taken part in some anarchist movements which had happened there and was living life as it came. Jeremy had suffered poverty in New York City and found a way out by returning home in Washington, now he was expressing his creativity and trying to sell some artwork to support himself. They were living as they felt fit, and I was into it.

I had no success in finding any logical bike paths online and they offered to just let me sleep on their floor, which I did while they went to a party that night. People volunteering their kindness is what has kept me safe and healthy on this trip and it's a trust in people that has allowed this to happen.

Things seem to be happening to me faster than I can record them on here. Right now I'm in Oregon. In fact I'll probably be in California by tonight. So much has happened, and libraries allow so little computer time! The Coast is a completely different experience than my entire trip so far, and hopefully I'll be able to get it all on here eventually for you to read about. I think I'll do a post every day if I can until I'm all caught up. I've met some people and my philosophy on this trip has taken a turn in a good direction, so right now I kind of feel like taking my time.

Part 3 to come tomorrow if I find an available library.

Edit: Added pictures.