atci90d/app/templates/stops/southbend.html

<p>This was perhaps one of the worst, best and weirdest days of the trip.</p>
<p>The first half of the day was fine. Was prepared for a long day, ready to get to Astoria. I kept
thinking... I just need to get to Astoria. Stopped for lunch in South Bend, right on Willapa Bay, famous for
their oysters. So I got a fried oyster sandwich--exactly the kind of small town cooking that I was so eager to
experience. An incredible sandwich. I continued. My maps directed me towards a kind of off-road. I was
uncertain, but trusted my directions. I followed the road until I came to a sign: "Paving Ends Ahead". The
sign did not lie. Ahead of me lie a gravel road.</p>
<p>Being on a road bike, gravel is a surface I would typically wish to avoid. But if this was the fastest way
to Astoria, it seemed the way I should go. My directions said the road name would change in a mile. So I
thought... I can handle a mile of gravel. If it doesn't change, I'll turn back. This "road" was one of the
most difficult of the entire journey. Not only was the coarse gravel tough, the incline was perilously steep.
It was at times too difficult to bike so I had to get off and push. But I kept going and at some point, I had
gone so far thinking "there can't be too much more of this" that it eventually became clear there was no
end in sight. But I had come so far; it would make no sense to go back. So, after 4 miles of treacherous
uphill gravel and no people, buildings, or civilization to speak of, I get a flat.</p>
<p>Exhausted and fed up with these conditions, I take my time to unload my stuff and fix the flat, having a
snack and cursing this dumb idea. This road seems to be the middle of nowhere--no cars coming or going and
deep forest on both sides of this gravel path. It was actually rather serene. Until I heard a menacing growl
come from the woods.</p>
<p>A bear? A mountain lion? Bigfoot? To this day, I do not know if this growl was real or a product of my
overactive imagination. Regardless, I have never reassembled my bike faster than I did in that moment. I was
scared witless. Sweating, nervous, and with a racing heart, I pedaled furiously for another 1/4 mile before my
tire was flat again. I was too rattled to take the time to fix it, so I pushed my bike another few miles
before I reached the end of this godforsaken road.</p>
<p>On this exact same day, two bikers in the other Bend--North Bend, WA--were <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/animalia/wp/2018/05/21/something-was-wrong-with-this-cougar-animal-that-killed-biker-injured-another-was-emaciated/?utm_term=.5f6de1c58f3d">
mauled and killed</a> by a mountain lion. I am so grateful and aware of how easily it could have been me. Many
people brought this news item to my attention over the following weeks, which I thought was a weird thing to
say to someone like me.</p>
<p>I eventually emerged from the woods, relieved and exhausted but still remote from civilization. I continued
to push my bike until I was greeted by two locals who were walking their dog. They were sympathetic and
surprised that I had come from the way I did. They walked me toward the highway.</p>
<p>I was shaken, but not so shook that I didn't notice the scenery we walked through. This was the most
beautiful place I have ever been. Full stop. We walked a road cutting through a marsh full of lush greenery,
as if a sea around us. This sea was interrupted by islands of trees exploding from the surface, too many trees
to fit on each little island, pushing each other out of the way, bounded and surrounded by the sea of
low lying plants extending in every direction. I was too awed to even try to capture this scenery in a
photograph. It looked exactly like a Studio Ghibli creation...  Too beautiful and mystic to be real. This
impression was compounded by the endorphins rushing through my bloodstream.</p>
<p>While we were walking through this incredible landscape, the sounds of another come from behind us. ?!?!?
This place is so remote, these are the first people I've seen in hours, and here is another, but it's not just
anyone--another bike tourer!! He had followed the same road I had, but with much beefier tires than mine and
he had a great time. The odds seemed impossible. His name is Jonas. He was also from Seattle, but taking a
much more leisurely pace than mine, having left Seattle a month ago.</p>
<p>The folks with the dog offered us their barn as a place to shelter for the night. So we stayed there. Jonas
showed me how to forage for oyster mushrooms which we cooked up for dinner. Jonas is also a musician, so we
jammed together, him on a mandolin he was carrying and me on the flute I was carrying. We camped the night
together. It was great fun.</p>
<p>My mom said this story seemed too fake to be real, but to be sure, every word of it is true.</p>

<p>From my journal:</p>
<blockquote>My heart is racing &amp; I'm starting to panic. "This is how it ends," I am sure.</blockquote>