Part 4: Ocean, Sky, Freedom: West Coast Bicycle Adventure—Canada to Mexico—Elvis and Marilyn Monroe

By Frosty Wooldridge

Part 4: Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe, old-fashioned strawberry milk shake in steel can, 57’ Chevy muscle cars, Juke Box and “Pretty Woman”.

“If, in after years, I should do better in the way of exact research, then these lawless wanderings will not be without value as suggestive beginnings. But if I should be fated to walk no more with Nature, be compelled to leave all I most devoutly love in the wilderness, return to civilization and be twisted into the characterless cable of society, then these sweet, freed, cumberless rovings will be as chinks and slits on life’s horizon, through which I may obtain glimpses of the treasures that lie in  God’s wilds beyond my reach.”  John Muir, wilderness man, 1872

(Everybody loves traveling whether by sailboat, canoe, raft, steamer, plane, jet or bicycle.) Photography by Frosty Wooldridge

Next morning, we awoke to pouring rain.  Big lumber trucks brought huge logs into the mill for cutting. We smelled the heavy scent of freshly cut trees.

“I’m not excited to pedal in this all-day downpour,” said Sandi. 

“Okay, let’s stay another night in the motel,” I said.

“Hot tub!” she said with a smile.

We sat around reading most of the day.  When the evening arrived, the rain abated. 

“Let’s go eat at the diner,” Sandi said.  “I loved their soup, salad, eggplant and milk shakes.”

We walked out into the twilight.  Just the right touch of freshly scrubbed air, glistening green forests and sunset through the clouds.  We walked five blocks to the diner.  Along the way, we saw a dozen flat, metal sculptures dotting the city streets. Each depicted farming, logging and pioneer life.

(Who doesn’t love the myth and magic of Marilyn Monroe and Elvis Presley.)

Along the streets, 100-year-old homes housed a lot of families, kids and middle class life from hardworking Americans.  In some of the side yards, old 57’ Chevys, Ford Thunderbirds and a few Plymouths caught my attention.  Since I come from that era, those old cars made me feel like a kid again.  I drove a 53’ and 57’ Chevy.

At the diner, we ordered dinner.  Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe posters decorated the walls. Lots of 50s and 60s “Muscle Cars” gave the place a feel for the past.  They sported an old Juke Box which we shoved a few quarters into the slot to listen to Ray Orbison with his “Pretty woman, walking down the street” along with Elvis’ “Jailhouse Rock” and “Can’t help falling in love with you.”

Funny thing about living your youth in the 50s and 60s: special times and a huge transition from the old ways of agrarian living to the high speed, technological society of today.  From the pace of horses to the speed of intercontinental jets.  From cooking your own food to microwaved instant dinners.

(Sandi sitting on vinyl couch in front of a black and white television watching ‘I love Lucy’ at Slater’s Diner, Raymond, Washington on Route 101.)

Often, with all the craziness happening to America, I wish we could have stabilized our civilization somewhere in the 1950s.  It seemed a little simpler, saner and safer back in those days. 

In the morning, the sun sparkled in the sky.  We devoured a special oatmeal breakfast with toast and homemade jam.  Gotta’ love it!

(Raymond, Washington features dozens of metal statues depicting some form of pioneer, logging and farm life.)

We pedaled through more clear cuts, back into thick green forests and closer to the Oregon state line.  In the late afternoon, we cut south on Route 401 to reach the Columbia River.  It spanned over five miles across with the Megler Bridge profiled on the far side of the point in front of us.  We passed old, broken sailing ships and abandoned barges.

We passed Dismal Nitch where Louis and Clark stopped their canoes before paddling across the river in November 1805. From there, they built Fort Clatsop for protection from the elements during the winter.  We followed the road all the way to the mouth of the Columbia River.  We passed abandoned wharfs inhabited by seagulls and cormorants sunning themselves on the protruding logs from the decaying docks.

With a hard left, we began our odyssey over the five-mile long Megler Bridge that climaxed with a steep climb at the end where we pedaled 500 feet above the water below.  Hundreds of seagulls guided us as they soared on the updrafts created by the bridge ramparts.  After 20 minutes, we reached the last mile where the bridge climbs sharply.  To our left, three ocean-going freighters anchored in the deep waters.  To our right, the endless Pacific Ocean stretched all the way to the horizon.

(Sandi after riding over the Megler Bridge which spans the Columbia River where Lewis and Clark first arrived upon the Pacific Ocean back in 1805.)

At the end of the day, our bodies meshed with the rhythm of the road.   We hit the sweet spot  where your cells co-mingle with the energy of the universe.  Your mind flows with the breeze passing by your face. Your pedals float above the ground in their own flight of fancy.  A certain magic transforms your journey into infinity.

After eating at the “Pig and Pancake Restaurant”, we clicked on our red blinking tail lights to follow Route 101 south. Quickly, we found a smooth green lawn behind a “For Sale” automobile repair shop.

Sleep came peacefully and easily.

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