"Homeless"

Just a final word here. Although life is a journey and not a destination, blogs should have a final chapter to end the story--at least that volume.

I am at with my brothers in Crawfordsville Oregon and will have time over the next few days to catch up on some entries to my journal that I missed during the last week and a half of this trip.

On Sunday we made it to Astoria and what a treat to hear the lapping of the Pacific waters against the pilings beneath the dock! I actually thought a bit of Lewis and Clark and the relief or joy they must have felt as the Columbia finally, finally broadened out to the Pacific. My brothers needed to get back home Sunday evening (a 3-4 hour car trip from Astoria) so we didn't have nearly enough time to poke around and check out the environs and museums.

So people ask me would you do the trip again. The answer is no, at least not on my own. I am so happy that I did do this--it really fulfills a dream I've had for a long time. I could seeing doing this trip, maybe on a different route, with a group of like minded people and with a sag wagon. It would be a comfort to know that you had support if you needed, and like going to movies, these adventures are so much richer shared with others.

The geography of these united states is truly awe inspiring. But really made the trip was the people I met along the way. If I had met a lot of negativity or nastiness along the way there's no way I could have persevered, or wanted to. The people I met showed interest, generosity, kindness. They encouraged and inspired. We gave to each other. Events all along the way seemed to always to work out for the best. Even temporary adversities, (flats in the middle of nowhere) turned into opportunities we would otherwise have missed (meeting people who came to our aid and provided provisions and/or a place to stay). You just never know.

And meeting Justin was a real break. Having someone to ride with over the Bitterroot Mountains and especially across the desert of eastern Oregon and Washington in intense heat made all the difference. His good spirits, youthful enthusiasm and go with the flow attitude was a healthful tonic. He only lost it once, after a torturous day riding form Umatilla OR. to Biggs from 7:00 a.m. until 8:00 p.m. he got to the campground, threw down his bike and screamed "I hate this *&^*(&*& bike! Needless to say, being Justin, he quickly recoverd. I hope Justin has had good riding with his dad from Portland to Astoria and wish him the best as he continues onward toward Vancouver BC.

By the way, we agreed that the right name for Justin's bike was "Homeless". He carried all of his cargo in two cheapo panniers on the rear wheel. His bike is an older Bianchi Volpe (just like one I used to own) covered with biking stickers. He'd stopped at a Walmart along the way and bought a $5 blue foam sleeping pad. This was bungied to his rear carrier. Stuffed in it's folds were the poles to his tent extending well beyond the back of his bike, and draped over all of this were two free "discontinued" tires a bike store had given him in Missoula. Quite a sight. Justin had this attitude that "any old place I hang my hat is home sweet home to me", an attitude many of us have had for at least some portion of our youth. It was refreshing to be in the world in this way for a time. Maybe that's part of the joy of camping and traveling. Now I look forward to the familiarity and comfort of Montpelier and central Vermont but will not soon forget the freedom and the challenges of the open road on a bike!