Klamath

I strained and pulled things I'd not strained and pulled before as I pushed the World up the steep pass into the Redwoods. Too tired now to give all the details even after resting for the day in Klamath at an R-V park. Hopefully I'll be on my way in the morning...

over the top

three feathers

I began the day with three only
Tucked in my hat band
One, the last I found in Oregon
Two,the first in California
Three,the pretty one I found "down east" in Maine.
Walking through the Tolwa Indian Nation and the few miles to the river bridge my hat band is full. By no other standard, this is a good day.
As I approached the bridge a man stopped and asked me to wait bor him to go to town and get his truck so I can get safely across the narrow bridge. Since he simply appeared at the right moment, I accepted. I walked to the other side of the road to wait, there at the spot I crossed was another very large feather. A good sign.
It is probably not too long but traffic has been steady and busy. It is a good excuse to relax and enjoy my first day at the edge of the giants, the Redwoods.
The safe ride approaches...

daylight from Brookings to the border

I have been walking during the night the past few night but on my last day in Oregon the winds have died down, I think I can make ilthese last miles without getting in trouble over the pedestrian-fog line infringement law. Have a wonderful day Oregon. And Thanks for the memories!

Not just a bridge

It's the highest bridge in Oregon. We walked it around seven. Traffic was light so I had time for a few pictures over the side. The Thomas Creek Bridge at 340 odd feet is a birds eye view of the tree tops where mountain and sea meet. Some bridges are for walking. I'm glad I crossed this one on my own power.

Gold Beach

We left Ophir at twenty until one with 'nary a car or truck for hours. Though I was tired and aching we managed to get to the bridge into Gold Beach in time to pass without causing an incident. After meandering into town, having breakfast and coffee, I stopped at the grocery. When I came out the intercity transit bus was outside and heading back up the coast so I was able to retrieve the van, get a place to park for the day, nap awhile before getting a few new patches on the World. Now if I can get back to sleep I will start the long trek to Billings,or Brookings, they all blend together after a time which will take two days even without traffic and sunshine the entire way there..
This morning at the check out line at the grocery a man was there with his granddaughter. He was paying for the candy bar she had chosen. I asked her if she would like one of my oranges to go with the candy bar. She lit up with a smile and gladly took the fruit. The grandfather thanked me also.
Though I walked all night only being seen by trucks and a few early commuters I felt I had done something good giving the girl a better choice.
Once I get to California I hope to walk more in the daylight but for now I should conduct my disorderliness, for the most part at night.

"Touchy, feely" in the Dark

The winds had died down, we left at midnight. The only ones out and about in Port Orford were the homeless. The young man on a bike knew of a rest area by the beach with a shower. It wasn't time for that. The other man appeared standing on a wall over the beach. He had an even "dusty" hue, even under the parking area lights. He had a large box of food that he offered to share from. I was freshly loaded for the walk so he hefted it up on his shoulder and disappeared in the night. Few cars passed in the still moonless night. A few miles down the road we slowly came upon a flag crew under bright lights. They were sending traffic over the one remaining lane of the highway the ocean had not reclaimed. I scared the worker, in the distance the Antarctic flashed a white beacon against the lights as it rolled toward him. He knew of us and had seen us the previous morning but still was not prepared for the visual as we orbited close. We then walked down into Humbug canyon. Only the white line was visible most of the way through with the sound of rushing water on one side and the brush of rock and fauna touching my staff as I skirted the other. Walking the canyon at night is the only way to get the World past there without creating a traffic problem in my view. In the daylight the wind and heavy traffic make for slow going at times. We made ninteen miles before exhaustion had me stop at a bench at the Ophir rest center overlooking the beach.. Just before we stopped I had seen from the road a group of horse back rider in the distance walking along the beach. A short time after I had sat down. The handler of the horses came up with some children. He had led his horses alone the beach many times but couldn't figure why the horses become excited until he had led them back to cross the road and then saw us rolling closer. Once I explained my purpose, and my situation, he offered a ride so I could retrieve the van. I was very thankful, being so tired I was going to fall asleep there at the park table. The children watched the World until my "road angel" and I returned. I slept without interruption into the night. Now with just nine miles to Gold Beach the road is dark and silent. The scenery is different along the ocean in the dark of night, but not less beautiful to the senses. I'll get to see it later when I drive along at fifty miles "per".

Prime time

This part of the coast is apparently known for it's winds. They calm from late at night thru early morning. We got on the road under starlight. With no moon some places were pitch dark. We at one point walked up on what seemed like road kill 'till it moved toward us in a defensive manner so I whirled the World between us. We startled a few deer sleeping close to the road. The first two hours only two trucks and eight cars went by. On my drive to retrieve the van I was astonished at some of the. Would be hazards had I been walking in daylight. The wind is whipping now. We may do this again tonight out of Port Orford.
Have a Nice day.

Soul Searching in the Mythical State of Jefferson

After the "turn" in the road a calm stayed with me while I worked the World past the fork in the road to Coquille. Edging over the lanes I rolled along tight hand rails to stay on the south 101 to Bandon. Occasionally someone would stop, but most of the time a car would slow and a passenger would snap a drive-by shot as I held the World off the white line standing in a ditch or lumbering along washed out cliff edges of hard sand that much of this Oregon Dunes region seems to rest. Not a picnic, I wonder as they slow to almost a crawl as I strain to keep the World from rolling down a ravine and retired couples bear down on them in a motor home as big as a house pulling the V-W bus they travelled with "back in the lean years" that requires no special training to drive, to click a blurred photo through their tinted windshield. Some may pull off and wait for many minutes watching my progress to catch an image when I get close, then drive on without a word. If I have a spare hand I give them a wave but usually the white line,the wind direction, the angle of the road, the change in pressure and elevation as it effects the pressure of the World, has my attention. When someone stops I do my best to answer their questions, share my story and sometimes hear about their journey. Cross county bicyclists, cross the world bicyclists, homeless travelers, families on vacation or a weekend trip, local motorists or a soldier on a soul searching mission. The latter I met Saturday morning. As I rolled up he had pulled off safely, opened the trunk of his car to offer me food and water and saluted me upon my approach. He had driven 1200 miles "balls to the wall". I guess he just needed to stop long enough to have someone like me to tell him to slow down. I recommended the dunes; a man had told me the day before that a walk out in the dunes had a special mystical quality that he took advantage of when he needed to clear his mind. I told the soldier it's hard to find yourself at sixty miles per hour, that he was far enough from Salt Lake to calm down. After we parted I took my own advice breathing in the smells around me and feeling the soft bed of pine needles under my feet along the ditch line.
On the road you don't have to go far to find solace or revisit your demons. While calmly pressing forward I weaved through road construction barriers to a site where a slide had washed out a hillside. A weekend parade of large rock trucks filled in every few minutes to dump their loads down a steep outside bank turn bordered by concrete retaining wall, jersey wall. The boss-man allowed me to roll along the three foot foothold between the wall and the sheer drop to the fresh rip-rap far below. At moments like these I don't have the luxury of giving in to my crippling fear of heights.the World is depending on me to balance it along the edge to safety. At the days end a man and his grandchildren picked us up to save the World from the narrow bridge before Bandon. It was close to nightfall and he wouldn't stop until we got to his house at the edge of town. I had walked 19 miles or so. I complained with a wink and a smile.
This brings us to Saturday night. I am writing this on Monday. It took all day Sunday and until lunch on Monday to walk about fifteen miles. The Sunday afternoon travelers had time to stop and talk. Talk they did, and I talked back only making it half the distance to Langlois where I stayed the night at Art101, an organization that collects shore debris that washes up and makes art from it. We all should do our part to maintain the world. Monday had few visitors. People were commuting to work or driving back from the weekend escape. Just as I approached Langlois I was stopped by the county police. They had received more complaints of the man in the road with the World. Again I was informed about the state law that prohibits anyone, at any time from crossing the white line. A 24-7 imaginary wall to keep motorist safe from dangerous pedestrians. He thanked me for being so cooperative and I asked him to please send the word "up the line" that it is not my intention to be charged with disorderly conduct and if the flow of calls gets to be too much to let them know I will "cease and desist" if told to do so. After five thousand miles my being given a pass to skip to the California border after walking hundreds of miles in Oregon will not hurt my feelings. Time will tell.
This to shall pass.
Be calm, breath.
Don't look too far ahaead and loose sight of the step you take next.
Walk a little, for your health.

the Turn

We were walking with traffic, as a bike would, on an inside bank with no edge. We were rolling in the ditch when, at the sharpest part of the turn was a washed out portion of roadway, a bush to the edge of the white line and a reflective four foot high metal marker. Cars and truck blasted by in both directions, the noise from them all powering around this steep banked turn was tremendous. I stopped just feet from the obstacle I stopped to gather my senses. Next to my face, poking through the thick dark hedge was a vine's flower. I had to pause and get a picture with my phone. As I snapped I was reminded of a story. A man was walking in the jungle when he came upon a tiger who chased him to a cliff. His only escape was to climb down a vine over the edge. Once there he could not climb all the way down because at the bottom waited another hungry tiger. Then a mouse came along and began to nibble at a sweet spot on the vine that he held onto with both hands. Weakening he noticed a beautiful strawberry just few feet away. The most succulent fruit he had ever seen. "If I could just have a taste" he said to himself...


The road was then silent. I passed the turn alive and well.

The Bend, the Bay, the "once over".

It seems like random. The people we meet. The seemingly wrong turn that leads to an uplifting conversation. Someone stops in a parking lot giving the people inside long enough to come out of a business that leads to an offer for a safe place to stay. Random.

We left from the fire station in North Bend at a normal time of seven thirty with the goal to walk only the few miles to the south end of Coos Bay. We stopped for breakfast where a man who had taken a series of photographs of our ride over the bridge and our walk into North Bend to the station. He had made a disk of them along with some choice pictures made from paper, old school fashion. I had my hat off during the rodeo over the bridge when I held the World in the bed by it's strapping. That picture showed off the farmers tan on my 'noggin', white as a babe's buttom. I was worried I'd loose that feather I had found on the Spinreel Road I had tucked in my hat-band. Next time I'll the feathers fly. Don't get me wrong, I like my bald head, but from behind in the sun against a blue background I look like Uncle Fester's light bulb. It's bad enough I look like uncle Fester from the front. Never-the-nun-the-less I do appreciate that he took the time to save the memory and find me again and give them to me. I then had a delicious breakfast talking with the man who gave me a ride last night. Then as I walked toward Coos Bay I talked with all the ODOT workers who I'd met since last night. They happened to be repairing the roadway on 101. We made our way to the Coos Bay Boardwalk where I stopped to talk and get a picture by the arched sign when I was invited for lunch at the fisherman's seafood market then walked down the walkway along the Bay. There a man ran across several lines of railroad tracks and through a ditch to come talk to me. He had seen us on the local news. He had suffered the tragedy of diabetes in his family and had to come see me. I guess the take charge of your Movement-movement- love yourself by walking- idea is something everyone can get excited about.

I have to cut this ramble short. I am 21 miles to the next stopping place. I have spent the afternoon gluing and repainting the weather-worn World today thanks to the Vietnam Veteran who stopped me in the parking lot of Kelley's Accounting who came out and soon offered sanctuary for the World. Once I got the van moved up I spent the day with paintbrush in hand. I must take time to maintain the World.
Have a good evening. I rarely check what I have written. I hope it makes sense.

Another safe passage

Thanks to the Oregon DOT and OSP who were going to close the mile long bridge into North Bend for us to roll over. For the good of all I asked for a ride. By the time I would have made it over the bridge traffic would have been backed up for miles and walking every inch is not something that I would stubbornly cause hundreds to be bothered idling as I lumbered along. In the end Just a few autos had to slow to the actual speed limit over the bridge. The Odot worker who provided the ride helped us find a place to park for the night, after he got off work he took me back to Lakeside for the van and treated me to dinner and dog food for Nice (the dog). I can't thank him enough for his help or the authorities in charge for allowing me to safely pass.
Have a great day Oregon!