by Liz

Day’s mileage : 49

Running total : 474

I’ve wanted to reach the ocean on the west coast for days now and each time we’ve not quite made it. Yesterday we arrived to find we were on another estuary with a wide expanse of mudflats. So when we went to watch the sunset from ‘the beach’ and found stretching before us a fully functioning ocean with waves lapping and sandpipers running up and down in the shallows, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was an amazing feeling. Sunset was beautiful. 

We were eager to visit the beach again this morning and unexpectedly it was still ocean, the tide hadn’t transformed it to mudflats or anything else. We watched a bald eagle cruising above us on the thermals. It’s been another day of unbroken sunshine with a cool wind for our final stretch in Washington state, where we’ve been incredibly lucky with the weather – unseasonably good for this part of the world. 

The scenery has transformed from mountains and forests to wetlands and coastline. We rode past a massive area where driftwood had washed up, huge trunks bleached silver by the sun and sea. We passed bright turquoise river meanders with forest beyond and hills on the horizon, and exchanged greetings with a man tending his orchard. 

At 12 miles we stopped for a sandwich, realising that in our haste to visit the beach this morning we’d forgotten to have the toast part of our breakfast. We passed roadkill no 6 – it astonishes us that in 500 miles we’ve only seen two opossums, three snakes and today a porcupine. It’s a pleasure and a relief not to see more (what we’ve seen is totally cool though). Also super cool, on an outlying peninsular around mile 30, was watching a pair of bald eagles flying together overhead and calling to each other. 

Someone said to me recently we must be serious cyclists but in fact that’s not really the case. Philip loves riding his bike at home and I love cycle touring and only ride when I’m training, otherwise I prefer running. We’re quite capable of nonsense, riding off with our stands still down and I’m forever changing up and down gears when I mean to do the opposite (very inconvenient on the steeper uphills). On Friday I cable-tied my panniers on the wrong sides and wondered why my heels kept hitting them. Such a pro. No one takes us seriously on Box Hill but here we are wonderfully free because, other than one or two in the occasional town, there are no other cyclists, so we set the bar. 

This afternoon we entered Oregon. I’m sad to leave Washington behind, it’s been spectacularly beautiful and kind to us through our first ten days. The transition to Oregon took place over the 4.1 mile long Astoria-Megler bridge built in 1966 across the mouth of the Columbia River. It was a stunning ride above sapphire sea, cormorants and an eagle wheeling around us and a snowy Mount St Helens shining to our left 100 miles away. Such a clear day!

Tonight we’re staying just outside Astoria. It’s a beautiful town on a steep hill but what I really enjoyed was a chat I had while Philip was shopping for food. Much younger than we are, Stephen rode the Pacific Divide in recent years, a similar length ride, from Banff to New Mexico. We struck up a conversation outside Safeway, exchanging experiences of life on the road. It gave me food for thought. 

Somewhat unexpectedly we are eating like royalty on this trip and Philip’s salmon risotto tonight was no exception. We’re staying in our own weatherboarded cottage above the bay and are about to go out and explore the coastline nearby.