Days 8 and 9, June 9-10

 Days 8 and 9, June 9-10

I took a full, proper rest day in Port Townsend on June 9. It was an obvious spot for it: a hiker-biker site at $12 a night on a beach bluff on the Puget Sound, little rain forecasted. The town is built into a sweeping series of hills that jut into the Sound, making for great views. There are bookstores and little cafes where everything was blooming, where in the marina there docked vessels from as far as Juneau. I needed the rest and enjoyed it, although I ran errands for most of the day and became surprisingly busy. 

First I went to a cafe to read, which I’ve been wanting to do more of. Most nights I’m actually too busy or too tired or a combination of both to tackle my reading list. It turns out that much of bike touring is actually labor, not leisure as I’d imagined. Thankfully I thoroughly enjoy the labor: the tent-pitching, the cooking, the showers and rare laundry day, the hunt for WiFi or an electrical outlet in a state park gazebo, the bike maintenance, scrubbing pots and pans, packing up the bike, finding potable water and the perusing grocery store aisles. 

So I sat and read for a while in the sun. Then I went to the nearby public library to upload my photos from my camera, write my blog, catch up on some emails, write postcards and then rework a short story I should have out in a week or two. 

From there I rode to the bike shop. 45 minutes later I was installing a new front rack on my bike in front of the store, on the town’s main drag, in the sun. Tourists walked past and thought I worked there. I bought a Bontrager rack that is a major upgrade. 

Cyclists: you know it’s important to distribute your weight properly on your bike. I’d unfortunately learned in my first week that I’d failed to do so, and I couldn’t fix my predicament without some creatively-placed panniers or a a frame bag or a new front rack. I went with the latter for $70. It’s replacing my Tubus Tara front rack, which works great but does not allow for storage on the top of it. Now I have my ginormous sleeping bag snug in a dry-bag and bungie-corded to the top of the Bontrager rack. It handles so much better and looks great. Couldn’t be more pleased. From there I dashed up a hill to the most impressive post office I’ve seen in the states and mailed the postcards and my Tubus rack. Then I went to the grocery store. A guy parked a touring bike in the rack while I was locking mine and told me he’d spent his stimulus checks on a new bike. 

I arrived back in Fort Worden around 5:30 and found the state park has a strange secret: the former U.S. military installation is ringed by a vast network of derelict fortifications connected by miles of subterranean tunnels. These concrete bunkers are totally abandoned and the very definition of a horror movie set. What paint still exists on the exterior is peeling off the walls and upon walking merely 15 feet into one of the tunnels the black is so profound that an iPhone light is literally useless. The place gave me the creeps. I’ll have to come back with a buddy and a headlamp to explore. An older couple I talked to told me they were in there for hours the day before yesterday, at one point paralyzed in the blackness and separated by some kind of metal grate they couldn’t find their way around. 

Cycling 

In the morning I took the ferry to Whidbey Island, which was $4. The riding in southern Whidbey is probably the most quintessentially nice stretch I’ve enjoyed to-date. The ACA route is fantastic. Near Deception Pass the roads were a bit spicy. The Deception Pass bride is stunning, high as it is between the island and the mainland, but partially under construction. Traffic was bad here and the shoulders disappeared, but the speed limit was only 40, so I had to get a bit aggressive and claim part of the road for myself when bypassing the usual branches in the shoulder and the guardrails. This tactic earned me my second honk of the trip which was entirely unnecessary. 

After Deception Pass the climb is tough. You reach an apex, then speed to sea-level again and do it over. I’m camping in Washington Park in Anacortes now. There’s a really, really nice hiker/biker site in a meadow where fawns literally prance. The site is away from the rest of the campsite which is crowded even now. The ranger said it gets really bad around the Fourth.  Just another reason to ride your bike: premier camping for cheap. 

Encounters

I pulled over at a gas station in Oak Harbor, WA for a gatorade. Inside the clerk stood, maskless and bemused, behind a plexiglas sheet. She watched as a guy about my age approached her. Skinny, a bit taller than me, wearing a trucker cap and a loose mask over his mouth but not his nose. Behind the straps you could see a wispy beard like mine. He stood there and opened his wallet. A lone $10 bill in there. He hesitated when taking it out and muttered something to himself I couldn’t hear. 

He asked her what was their cheapest pack of cigarettes. Expressionless, the clerk studied him. Pall Malls, she said.

“How much are those?”

She leaned forward and typed something into the machine behind the counter and her eyes flicked back to him. 

“7.67.”

He must have had the $10 in his hand because he said nothing and abruptly tossed it on the counter. It was crumpled and for a moment both he and the cashier watched it slowly twitch and unwrap. You could have heard a pin drop in the store. Then the clerk sighed and reached under the plexiglas sheet to take the money. 

“100s or shorts?”

“Shorts.” 

Musings 

Some of you may be wondering what I’m eating. 

In the morning I do a breakfast bar, which saves so much time compared to cooking instant oats. I usually pop in somewhere for a treat and a coffee if there’s a good place around. 

I’m snacking constantly on the bike. I eat Frito’s, which are high in caloric content, carrots, fruit snacks, apples, peaches, smoked salmon if there’s roadside stops, cookies, candy bars and those weird cheez-it creations with the fake cheese between them. For some reason I like those. 

For lunch I do sandwiches or tortillas. Isobutane fuel isn’t easy to find right now — I just obtained a big stash at an undisclosed source in Burlington, WA — so I’m taking it easy on the hot sandwiches. But in the early days of the trip I was making grilled ham and cheddar sandwiches with pepper on them. Mmmm. Now I’m eating tortillas with sharp cheddar, pepperoni and mustard. When I eat out I usually get lunch, but this is becoming more infrequent. It just depends on how hungry I am and how much willpower I have when crawling past a gleaming food truck that reads PULLED PORK SANDWICHES or a diner that reads BISCUITS AND GRAVY. 

For dinner I’ve had: instant rice with soy sauce and carrots, onions and peppers; noodles with pesto; instant rice and black beans with pickled jalapenos and carrots, taco seasoning, cheddar and tortilla bits; sausages in a bed of red peppers and onions; ramen; and something else I can’t remember. 

On my first night I had a cold half of a 14-inch sub sandwich from Taste Tickler in Portland. The teriyaki sub, you know the one. 

Physically, I’m holding up pretty well. My right knee is tender in the morning but CBD appears to successfully dampen that. I also adjusted my bike seat which has appeared to help. I had some elbow pain on my right arm that has since disappeared. My bike seat is comfortable for the time being. I’m sure tomorrow will bring another tiny torture. 

From Port Townsend I had the rare ability to see where I’m going next. North Cascades National Park looks like Alaska above the foohills and the Sound. It’s going to be wet, possibly buggy, cold and impossibly steep. I’m really excited. 

Mentally, I’m holding up well. I felt my first pang of loneliness in Port Townsend. It’s a strange feeling being alone and on a budget in a comfortable place where families and couples flock for a short retreat. Thankfully I’m happier than I’ve ever been and ambitious and the combination should carry me east. Elsewhere I’m struggling to remember which day of the week it is. This is concerning to me for some reason. I wonder if, at the end of this, I’ll have trouble coming back to a regimented work-week.