Circling the U.S. Chapter 46: Oregon Coast Grand Finale or When It Rains Part 4

This is Rob's "I'm not letting the rain defeat me" look. We were tough. This may have been the roughest rain I've ever ridden in. We both felt alive and strong.

Wednesday, October 16, 2016

The forecast called for 100 percent chance of rain, southeast wind 18-22 mph with gusts up to 33 mph. I said, "I'd rather do some riding because it never rains for the whole day. Remember that day we stayed at the Quality Inn in New York? I went nuts when the rain stopped in the afternoon and we could have been riding."

We made a plan. We would enjoy the morning in our hotel room, then get on the road at checkout time, eleven o'clock. We only had 30 miles to ride. We had a Warm Showers place in Harbor, just past Brookings.

Ideally the rain would start overnight or very early in the morning. Then, by checkout time, the storm would be winding down. 

That didn't happen. 

When we woke the rain hadn't started yet. I thought, "If we're smart, we'll get on the road right away, get some miles in before it starts raining." 

We weren't smart. 

We dillydallyed for a couple hours. Then, at ten o'clock, just as we were getting on our bikes, the rain started.  At least it wasn't cold. We didn't bundle up; just shorts, a long-sleeve shirt, riding shirt, and rain jacket.

We had a long climb - several miles - right out of town. The rain wasn't messing around. I waited for Rob at the top. Mostly I try to be patient when I wait for him. I know he's doing the best he can. But it can be tough waiting for even a couple minutes along the side of a busy highway. Throw in pouring rain and I get more than a little grumpy. And I was getting cold. I dug into my front pannier for my hat and put it on. 

We saw these tsunami signs everywhere. We were always either leaving or entering a tsunami zone.

After five minutes I saw Rob coming. It took him another two minutes to reach me. "I hate for you to have to wait," he said. 

"I'm going to wait for you."

"You put your hat on."

"It gets cold standing in the rain."

Then we had a long downhill and my feet were soaked and I thought I needed to switch to wool socks and try out the shoe covers Rob had given me for my birthday several years ago that I have never used. Maybe they will keep my feet dry but probably not because my shoes are already soaked.

At the bottom of the hill the road opened up to a beautiful view of the ocean. I pulled into the viewpoint. Rob said, "Why are you stopping?" 

"I'm cold." I took off my vest and rain jacket as fast as possible so I wouldn't get wet while I put on my blue fleece sweater. I struggled to get my jacket back on with the wind blowing, could barely get my arm into the second sleeve. I put on my rain pants, then swapped my wet socks for a dry pair of wool socks and put on my riding shoe covers. Rob did the same, although he doesn't have shoe covers. We may buy some for him.

Down the road we passed signs saying, "Wind Gusts." Right. I didn't need a sign telling us that as I fought to keep my bike on the road.

Even in the rain the Oregon coast is stunning. 

I stopped because I was hungry. I ate a piece of French toast from the hotel breakfast, and gave Rob a couple bites. He ate a granola bar. I got out a hard-boiled egg from my handlebar pack. While I was peeling it I looked at the car sitting nearby with its lights on and engine running. I couldn't see inside.

I said, "Do you realize that every time on this trip when we've stopped by the side of the road in the rain not a single person has invited us inside their car to warm up?"

"They probably don't want to get their car wet."

"They're probably saying, 'Look at those stupid bicyclists out there, riding in the rain, they deserve to be cold and wet." I looked right at the car as I was talking and truly wondered what the driver was thinking.

It's probably like when you pass a homeless person on the street and you sort of want to help them but you don't really know how. So instead of smiling at them like you might a non-homeless person sitting on a bench, you walk by like you don't even see them.

I said, "I so want to knock on their window and say something like, 'Thanks for offering us a place to warm up.'"

I know I wouldn't have taken a ride if it were offered, but a few minutes of shelter from the deluge would have been nice.

We got back on our bikes.

When I thought the rain might be letting up it just came down harder. Then a headwind came and the rain hammered my face.

I kept an eye on my odometer. Starting out we had about 28 miles to ride to Brookings. When we hit 14, halfway, I knew we were going to make it.

Riding behind me, Rob said something about how this was like his rats and their swim stress.

"Are you comparing yourself to a rat?" I asked. He said a few other nonsensical things that I ignored.

Between the hills and the wind, it was slow going.

When we arrived in Brookings a car stopped in front of us. An older woman got out and flagged us down. "Are you Carl?" she asked. "No, we're not. Are you a Warm Showers host?" Yes, she was and she was on her way to rescue her guest. Warm Showers hosts are all pretty amazing people. 

It took us more than four hours to ride the 28 miles from Gold Beach to Brookings. I didn't see any cozy coffee shops so we had to settle for American fast food. Would it be KFC, Burger King, or McDonalds? I didn't care. Rob voted for KFC. He said, "Maybe they'll let us bring our bikes inside." When we rolled our bikes into the foyer, a staff person came out only to check that the doorway wasn't blocked.

I took off everything wet, which was just about everything. This was the first time rain had snuck in under my rain jacket. We picked a large table next to a window and began hanging our wet clothes on empty chairs.

We ordered chicken. I had hot tea. Rob wanted a strawberry shake and found out that KFC does not sell milkshakes.  

While we were drying out, Rob started writing in his journal. He said, "This about sums up today: cold, rain, horizontal, hills, and headwinds."

We still had a couple miles to ride to our Warm Showers hosts, Max and Michelle. Rob said, "Maybe we can ask them to come get us." 

"No, we're not going to do that." But I sent Max an email letting him know where we were and to expect us around five o'clock, as he had told us not to arrive before four thirty. 

Max came with a pickup truck for us and our bikes. He brought us to his beautiful home where his wife, Michele, greeted us and fed us a delicious spaghetti dinner but not before we had our warm showers and put all our wet clothes in the dryer. And Max said several times that we were welcome to stay another night because the rain will continue.

I imagine all these Warm Showers hosts with their kind hearts looking out for bicycle tourists, wherever they are. Especially when it is raining.