Pavement, tall trees, foggy mornings, laundromats, wet tent, cold bathrooms, road signs, dirt, pastries, fresh air, quiet days, vibrant green hillsides, not enough clothes, too many clothes, packing, unpacking, phone calls home, maps, strangers, motel rooms, sleeping bags, quarters, gas stations, pictures, small conversations, laughs, waves, wind, rain, fruit, beaches, coffee, water, music, tourists, bicycles, RV's, white line on the road, bridges, construction, smells, raccoons, breakfasts, phone chargers.
Strange: adj.
1. unusual, extraordinary, or curious; odd
2. situating, belonging, or from outside of one's ownlocality
3. outside of one's previous experience
4. unaccustomed to or inexperienced in; unaquainted
Let's recap: I'm a typical mid-twenties midwestern girl, traveling 10 miles per hour on a moped with my life strapped down by bungee cords following a dreadlock bicyclist lover down the west coast of the United States for an unknown destination at an unknown point in time.
I was living the strange.
Pacific City to Florence to Bandon, Oregon...171 miles
Heading into Newport, Oregon we were looking for a bike shop to get Blake some fenders. We found Bike Newport. It was the best shop we went into on the whole coast. They supplied a shower for Blake and then fixed up his bike. I remember this shop because they were down-to-earth and friendly. Also because they were the first to say they've seen thousands of tourists travel Highway 101 and we were the first to do it the way we were; 1 bicyclist, 1 moped rider...strange. That's ok, it was the strange that worked for us.
We rode through Newport to a large campsite in South Beach (my journal says "Long Beach" but I chalk that up to camping & riding errors.) It was a neighborhood of campers. I was cracking up at the lots all around us, just like housing developments...but take off the shell of the house and replace it with a tent, talk about "airing your laundry" if you get what I'm saying. We stayed two days at this campsite resting. We went running down a trail to the beach one of the nights. It was so magical: dark trees growing overhead, rolling hills of sand, loud crashing waves, and a far off lighting storm over the ocean. We got pulled over by the Po. When I say "we" I mean both of us on one of our jaunts into town on the Black Pearl living in our own world...They don't seem to like that very much. We also ended up finding Rogue Brewery here in South Beach. We were the only ones sitting on the back deck when the owner and some empolyees and old timer regulars joined us. I remember blending in with them as they conversed about business, last night's bar fight, and so on. It reminded me of hanging out at Blake's parent's restaurant drinking a beer.
Pearl had a birthday during these few days in Oregon. 1001 miles under her belt! She's a bada**!
I was so in love with listening to my music or audiobook, chillin' on the moped behind Blake, watching everything go by slowly. The weather changed, the colors changed, the hills changed, the people changed, the roads changed.
In Bandon we were hanging out at another laundromat and made a friend with this guy and his sweet little dog. He used to tour back in the '70's with his son. I could see the memories flood into his eyes as he tried his best to explain his trips. I recognize it now because I'm sure I get that look when I try to explain my adventures to people. Everyone has thier own story...I learned this coming down the coast, that's for sure! Anyone we talked to would have their memories flood back to them and they'd light up recalling thier past adventures.
Everyone has had thier fare share of strange. I think it's exciting! Strange can break down your thinking, change what you've been programmed to think, alter your reality. Strange things and events and people are good. "Unusual, extraordinary, curious" are amazing words to add to your story.
I love this picture above! These seagulls were chilling on this roof over our hotel room (that was actually a time portal to the '60's with it's grass carpet, wood panal walls and cigerette air freshner.) All night we heard thier little feet patter above. THEN this pelican came to join the party, he had a heavier step. I think this was when I fell in love with pelicans...to me they are the great, old, wise yogis of the sea.
Thanks for reading!! Hope you enjoy my strange & that you are enjoying your strange.
I believe this way of thinking will take you down a path to Dream Big, Ride Far!!
