Portland, Oregon

Portland. 1:30am. The hotel room is littered with the debris of 2 apocalyptic hangovers – used towels, odd socks, empty coke cans, obliterated Chinese takeaway containers, Kelv mesmerized by flashing lights on Animal Planet on TV, half full mugs of stale water, receipts for a rounds of Jagermeisters at 3am, a stinking sweat soaked tshirt from a bewildered rickshaw rider.

The trip unofficially ended this morning at approximately 2am in a bar called the Tube. Kelv’s restroom queuing etiquette nearly got us ejected early, as did our animated discussion about riding Nant-y-Arian, as did our relentless consumption of Rum. Earlier that evening we’d wandered out of the hotel wide eyed and dazed like Tarzan in New York. After weeks in comparative wilderness and small towns being in a city fazed us. A group of people with $200 dollar haircuts and ill fitting fashionable clothes sauntered past us as we lurched down the street dazzled by their glitz. After walking a few blocks we got the fear and walked back to the first bar we’d seen. We sat at the bar next to 2 guys who looked like a warped tribute to Gareth Pugh and Meatloaf.

At some point in the evening we commandeered a rickshaw for what seemed like hours. I can’t remember a great deal, but the following flash backs have stuttered back into memory today: Sitting in the back with the rickshaw rider, whilst Kelv pedaled us into oncoming traffic; Jumping out whilst at fullspeed because I was so disgusted with myself being ridden; dragging the rickshaw rider into a bar and pouring jagermeister down his neck; Kelv swapping his Pedal House tshirt for the riders stinking, soaking, off grey/off fleshtone tshirt. We somehow managed to make it to the hotel room and somehow I managed to phone Michal at work. The conversation is hazy, except for lots of schoolgirl giggling, stunned silence and fuck yeah’s.

Today we’ve both been sick and deep in our own words of self loathing. What miserable worlds they are. Most of the day has been spent shuffling around the room, to the bathroom, back to bed, to the bathroom, to the floor. Kelv eventually made it out to get a Chinese takeaway about 6:30ish and we managed another sortie to the ice cream parlour a block away at 8pm. From what we’ve seen of Portland sober this evening it looks like a great city. Tomorrow we make up for today by going on a massive shopping spree. Trainers, tops, bottoms, a bike, cycling tops, er did I say bike… I’ve been thinking of getting a single speed and balls to it I’m going to buy one tomorrow.

You may be wondering how the hell we’re going to carry all the shit we’re buying, let alone another bike. Well… after arriving in The Dalles on Tuesday we had planned on riding to Portland Wednesday, but the week of hard miles had took its toll. We had a day off in which time the relentless winds we’d been warned about so much finally materialised as did the rain. So the plan was to hire a car in The Dalles and drive to Portland. Unfortunately the car hire company messed us around and after waiting all day for a car to return, nothing came in. So another night was spent in The Dalles. On Thursday we had the same situation with the car hire place, so decided to hire a motor to the east of Portland to get us into the city. It was a nice sunny day, but the wind was relentless as ever. To make it the 70 miles to Portland to get the car before it closed was going to be a challenge. We decided I’d go on ahead on my own at full speed, grab the car and drive back and get Kelv.

After only about 5 miles and a few calculations on average speed, it seemed pretty clear I wasn’t going to make it in time. The wind was insane, keeping maximum speed to below 15mph even on the flat. Not only that, strong gusts almost blew me off the bike a few times and I had some nice blasts on the horns of SUV’s as they passed. The route to Portland that day had 3 fairly big climbs and 20 miles of Interstate. In that wind the Interstate was going to be a nightmare. Luckily a lady at another branch of the car hire company in Hood River 20 miles away called me saying they’d got a car. We were saved!

A bit of car palava followed, getting the car in Hood River, driving to Portland, getting the other car we’d hired for the rest of the trip, driving both back to Hood River, dropping off the first and heading back to Portland. Before we left we stopped in Hood River for some lunch. Hood River was another great little town with obviously a very active population as the town had 3 bike shops and multiple kayaking and sailboarding shops. I saw my first S-Works Tricross (the carbon version of our bikes) and it looked amazing. Nice at $2,500….

So we’re now in Portland and only a few days remain. Rough plan is to shop tomorrow then head out to Seaside on the Pacific coast. We’ve got a great hotel right on the seafront. Sunday may spend another night in Seaside if the weather is good, or drive to Seattle and have a night there. Monday we drop the car in Bellingham near the Canadian border and pick up a Canadian hire car for the drive to Vancouver. Tuesday I fly home :-(

Although it’s not over yet, the trip has been absolutely epic and clichéd as it sounds, life changing. It’s totally changed my understanding of the USA and I could now seriously see myself living here at some point. Places like Boulder, Missoula, Hood River and here in Portland have had a profound effect on me. Not to mention the sheer immensity of this wild country. The weather has been biblical and with scenery to match. I’ve felt so small and insignificant on many miles of this trip. It’s also completely changed my perspective on long distance riding. 60 miles feels like a rest day in the right conditions.

There is so much I’ve wanted to blog about which I’ve either forgot, or been too tired to convey when I’ve sat in front of the computer at the end of a long ride. Little things along the ride make me smile or give me a warm feeling, or just make me feel immensely content. The last 600 miles from Missoula have been stunning and as we’ve dropped from the snow line into the lower altitudes spring has really started to come to the fore. The smell riding through the forest sections was amazing . I can’t imagine a better way to experience the country.

It’s going to be hard coming back and going to work. Hah that’s a fucking understatement. I’m planning the next trip now to keep things rolling. Last year I rode a 1000 mile tour around southern Ireland and I think it’s time to go back and see the North. 1000 mile trip from Galway up to Londonderry, down to Belfast and finish in Dublin. Should do the job :-)