Part 1: Ocean, Sky, Freedom: West Coast Bicycle Adventure—Canada to Mexico

Part 1: Starting in Bellingham, Washington. Ride up to the Canadian border. Heding south into the old growth     

            Douglas firs of the Washington rainforest.

(Sandi and Frosty standing at the Canadian Border, north of Bellingham, Washington for the beginning of the Canada to Mexico, West Coast Bicycle Adventure.)

“The mystique of bicycle travel fascinates modern Americans.  Why would anyone “endure” the pains of providing their own locomotion via pedaling rather than the comfort and speed of a car, boat, plane or train?  The answer lies in the antiquity of “pedaling bliss.”  It thrives in the meshing of your energy with the energy of the universe. It rushes into the secret corners of your mind to explore the world on your own terms.  Too much comfort leads to tedium or the indolence of life. Once you swing your leg over the saddle of a bicycle, a whole new mental, physical and spiritual dimension opens to every cell in your body.  You “fly” at the “perfect speed” with a comet’s tail of memories following you into eternity.” FHW, West Coast Ride

At the beginning of an adventure, your entire body tingles with excitement.  Expectation races around your mind like a Coney Island rollercoaster.  What might happen to you on a pedal journey of thousands of miles?   Who will you meet?  What grand sights will you see?  What will you learn from your travels?

Sandi and I landed in Bellingham, Washington in late July.  We rejoiced at sunny skies, warm weather and the promise of a great start for our Canada to Mexico West Coast Bicycle Adventure.

(Sandi checking her bike at the Edaleen Dairy Barn where they served incredible ice cream straight from the cows.)

We wrenched the bikes together for the next two hours. With our panniers packed, our gear organized, our flags flying and our spirits high, we pedaled a few miles into Bellingham to eat at the Brandy Wine Kitchen.  They created a killer-delicious Red Lentil soup.  Along with salad and hot garlic bread out of the oven, we delighted at our culinary feast. Two glasses of red wine topped off our celebration of our adventure.

After eating, we pedaled past beautiful waterfront homes with stylish porches and high-pitched roofs with elegant flower arrays surrounding the yards and driveways. 

Seagulls squawked across the airwaves of that coastal town.  We rode through dense growth pines.  We made it to the edge of town where we camped at “The Boss” construction business in a nice patch of grass behind the main building that gave us privacy and quiet.

In the morning, after a fabulous breakfast at the Hilltop Restaurant , we cranked up Route 539 for 25 miles to reach the Canadian Border.  With a few shots from the tripod, we headed south toward our destination of the Mexican border.

At the border, we stopped at an ice cream-cheese-milk Edaleen Dairy Barn that featured the BEST soft-serve we’ve ever tasted.  They grew giant baskets of flowers under some trees in their front yard.  People from all over the country stopped to buy their foodstuffs.

A Canadian Indian lady sat down beside us, “I hear you have bicycled around the world.” 

“Who told you that?” I said.

“Your wife,” she said.

“Well, yes ma’am, six continents with one more to go,” I said.

“Well,” she said.  “I am a teacher at the reservation. I gave the kids a writing assignment to go outside and write about what they saw.”

“What did they write about?” I asked.

“The wrote about cars, houses, telephone lines, honking, Facebook, horns, etc.” She said.  “I was hoping they would write about the blue sky, lady bugs landing on their arms, the breeze blowing through the leaves, hear a bird chirp, listen to the silence, watch a sunset, see a bird fly, feel the air on their skin, go barefoot and feel the grass under their feet, touch a river with their toes, look into the deep dark woods and stuff like that.”

“Different set of parameters for kids today,” I said.  “We keep moving further away from the natural world toward the mechanical and computer world.  Those kids are wired differently as they dial into their Smart phones seven days a week.  The farther we travel into the mechanical world, the more we lose our natural world vibrations and frequencies.”

“You white people did that to us,” she said.  “We used to live in the old ways until you pulled the rug out from under us. Now we have poverty and starving children.”

“Can’t argue with you on that one,” I said.

“Truth is truth,” she said without malice.

“Blessings to you,” Sandi said.

She stood up, threw her napkin into the trashcan, walked over to her car, and drove off.  She didn’t look back.

(Sandi standing by the bay with mountains in the background and riding south in sunny weather.)

Having read much of what happened to the aborigines of North America, I felt her anguish. We used mechanized violence to subdue them while we stuck them onto “reservations” or what might be called “internment camps.” We supplied them with booze, disease and welfare.  We deleted their way of life, their freedom, their religion, their language and their land.  I can see why she wasn’t too happy with white people.

While on the road, everyone tells you his or her story.  One other guy came over to talk about his retirement.  He told us his life story with divorces, kids, bosses, hated his job, drinking and finally, living alone after his wife died of cancer.  He decided to travel the world each summer with his remaining years.

On the way back down Route 539 also named “Mount Baker Highway.”  A huge snow-covered mountain shined off to the east of us.  It struck majestically into the sky.   We stopped at several lakes with hundreds of ducks floating around in the still waters. 

We pedaled back into Bellingham where we ate dinner at the same restaurant from the night before.

“If you guys are looking for a camp spot,” a patron said, “you can go eight miles to Larabee State Park in the deep woods.”

“Thank you,” said Sandi.

(My bike Condor and a bed of flowers growing inside a manure spreader.)

We pedaled out of town with the sun shining over the bay with big ships anchored in the water.  The road led to Chuckanut Drive along the bay through deep woods.  The rain forest covered the road like a green tunnel.  Sandi passed in and out of the fading light. It created a magical light show replete with greens, leaves and waving grass.

Up and down we traveled through nature’s light show.  Finally, we arrived at the park where we pitched our tent on top of a mound of ground with massive spruce, ferns and Douglas firs: untouched.

“This is magical,” said Sandi, as she walked off toward the showers.

“Paradise,” I said, pitching the tent.

“To travel through a silent green forest tunnel—we pedaled through the afternoon into the “sweet spot” of cycling where the air temperature dropped from hot to cool where it perfected itself on our senses. A sumptuous range where it created a sense of perfection for our spirits.  Cycling into such an ethereal zone enhanced our souls with a new  and delightful happiness in the moment.”

(Sandi pedaling through the “sweet spot” of perfection as the sun dropped through the trees and the temperature cooled us on the final leg of the day to Larabee Park.)

              (Perfect campsite beneath the giant Douglas firs, ferns and rainforest flowers.)
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Frosty Wooldridge
Golden, CO

Population-Immigration-Environmental specialist: speaker at colleges, civic clubs, high schools and conferences

Www.HowToLiveALifeOfAdventure.com

Www.frostywooldridge.com

Six continent world bicycle traveler

Speaker/writer/adventurer

Adventure book: How to Live a Life of Adventure: The Art of Exploring the World

Latest book:  How to Deal with 21st Century American Women: Co-creating a successful relationship

Frosty Wooldridge, six continent world bicycle traveler, Canada to Mexico summer 2014, 2,200 miles, 100,000 vertical feet of climbing: