top of page
Laura

Week 2: Bremerton to Astoria

First off, I have to admit that interior Washington wasn’t particularly exciting. It was mostly trees, fields that used to be trees, farms here and there, and the occasional Trump flag. But just because something isn’t inherently exciting doesn’t mean you can’t have a good time!


A typical thrilling Washington view.

My first stop after Bremerton was in Shelton, where I stayed with another Warmshowers host, Donna. A little over a decade ago, Donna biked across America with her then-husband and their 9-year-old son. She said this turned out to not be a particularly child-friendly activity – apparently, at one point someone threw a slushie out the window and hit her son in the face. Apparently, there are people out there who feel very threatened by 9-year-olds on bicycles.


After Shelton, I decided to detour to Olympia. The route on my map recommended going through Elma, but I thought Olympia might be worth seeing, considering that it’s Washington’s capital and all. And I’m glad I did, because I stayed with some folks who might be the most amazing Warmshowers hosts OF ALL TIME!


Krista and Bethany spent Covid building a ‘shed’ in their backyard. The shed is actually a luxurious guest suite, complete with its own bathroom, kitchenette, and a delightfully comfortable bed. It’s the kind of thing you could probably charge hundreds of dollars a night for on AirBnb, but instead they’re just letting cyclists stay in it for free.


(This seems like as good a time as any to mention that my biggest Covid project was making croissants, which seemed impressive at the time but does kind of pale in comparison.)


Krista and Bethany’s hospitality also led me to an excellent French bakery, a pizza party with some seniors, and a lot of quality time with their very cute dog, Molly.



I felt like a princess, and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever said those words before.
Cutest dog in the USA (coincidentally, I have the cutest dog in Canada)

After two nights, I reluctantly left my palatial Olympia accommodations and headed back into the wilds of the minor roads adjacent to Interstate 5. But there was some interesting signage along the way!


wut

I stayed at Lewis and Clark State Park, which I feel is worth mentioning partly because of its delightfully rhyming name. The other reason is because I made my first bike friend!


In the morning, the campground host told me that another cyclist had shown up after me and that I should go say hi. The host seemed very excited about setting me up on this playdate of sorts, so on my way out of camp I rolled on over and introduced myself to Suzanne, who is from the Netherlands and is on a two-month tour from Port Hardy on northern Vancouver Island to Los Angeles. We were both headed to the same campground that night, so we agreed to meet up later.


I biked eighty hot, sweaty kilometres to the intended campground… and the campground host there said “we’re full.” I protested that I had already biked 80 kilometres, but this did not move him. He said “the next place is 12 miles up the road.”


So I biked almost 20 more hot, sweaty, pissed-off kilometres and ended up camping at the marina in Cathlamet. This made for a 99.16 kilometre day, and I considered doing laps of the parking lot to round out an even hundred, but that seemed stupid so I collapsed into bed without eating or brushing my teeth. And in the midst of all this, I had lost track of my new Dutch friend and wasn’t sure if our paths would cross again.


The next morning I treated myself to an enormous breakfast sandwich and a lot of coffee. It was a goodbye sandwich, because I was leaving Washington.


I caught the river ferry from Cathlamet, and before I knew it, I was standing in Oregon, on the southern side of the Columbia River.


This is actually me leaving Washington, even though the sign says welcome. And Oregon didn’t have a sign, so you’ll have to imagine that part.

Through the magical combined powers of stubbornness and caffeine, I summited two enormous hills and then rolled my way into Astoria. I was also powered by cookies.

The bike path into Astoria took me directly to the Maritime Museum – the end of the first of my five bike-route maps. It felt monumental. I sat on a bench and ended up taking cell phone pictures for a bunch of elderly people on a bus tour. From now on, this is how I plan to celebrate all my accomplishments.


My arrival in Oregon also marked my return to the Pacific Ocean. I got out my second map, and got back on my bike. The journey continues.


End of Map 1.

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


bottom of page