Astoria was the first goal of mine. I was planning to travel the Trans American Bike Route, which starts in Astoria. So this was Step #1. When I reached Astoria, I was finally on the trail. It felt good to get to another state. Made it seem like I had accomplished something.

The road to Astoria was another bad idea. To get from Washington to Oregon, of course, you have to cross the Columbia River. There are a handful of places to do so. I was doing it on the Astoria bridge, a 4-mile monstrosity with no shoulder. The first stretch of it was perfectly flat but stressful--there's no taking a break; there's no wavering when a nonstop stream of cars is flying by inches from my left hand. And at the end, the stakes were raised when I was confronted with an aggressively vertical stretch that nearly took it out of me, speeding traffic on one side and a hundred foot drop to the water on the other. My deeply ingrained Catholicism emerged and I started to pray for my life.

From my journal:

...it almost killed me. I literally started saying the Hail Mary over and over to myself.

The Goonies was filmed in Astoria, and the city has a more than passing interest in the film. I stopped at the visitor center after surviving that bridge, adrenaline running, and they had Goonies playing on loop and the guy told me that bicyclists had just been involved in a fatal accident with a logger truck on that bridge, only a week or two ago. Once again, a great story to tell a guy who just biked the bridge. Eventually, I'd learn to be more careful, but I still don't think I was ever reckless, even on this terrible bridge.

Eager for music to accompany my trip, I bought a Diskman and a copy of Dylan's "Blonde on Blonde" from a store in Astoria called Bach 'n' Rock. The perfectly American album for my American trip. Once again I'll note my eagerness to define every aspect of this trip with symbolism and literary meaning.