Part 2: Ocean, Sky, Freedom: West Coast Bicycle Adventure—Canada to Mexico—Port Townsend and Sailing Ships

By Frosty Wooldridge

Part 2: Sleeping vibrations in boreal forests, Edward R. Murrow journalist, homemade soups and pies, Deception Bay.

“When you sleep under a 1,000 year old tree, it imparts its vibrations into your body.  It stands guard over your emotions, dreams and aspirations. During the stillness of the night, the stars filter through the leaves while water from a distant brook gurgles with a rhythmic trance that lulls your mind into quiet solitude.   A quiet sleep in the deep forest beats any night in a Holiday Inn.”  FHW, West Coast Ride

(Sandi on the road to Anacortes, Washington, southbound on the famous Route 101 along the West Coast.)

“Honey,” said Sandi in the morning.  “I’m hungry. Let’s find a restaurant.”

We packed our gear within 45 minutes, cleaned the campsite and hit the pedals.  We traveled south along Route11 through morning moisture and scintillating sunshine piercing the leaf cover.

A few miles later saw us riding along the ocean with oyster beds and shell fish farms neatly cultivating the ocean’s endless food chain.

Finally, we stopped for breakfast at “The Edison Café 1939”, Edison, Washington 98232 on Facebook.  Linda and Lisa, two good-looking blonds served up scrumptious eggs benedict and fantastic oatmeal with all the trimmings.  For dessert,  Linda baked a killer raspberry pie.    She also served up delicious tomato basil soup for the soon-to-be lunch crowd. 

As we sat there in that old Texaco gas station, I noted pictures of Edward R. Murrow, the famous journalist and TV reporter who told it like “was” instead of what goes on with the spin for whomever shows the most money in 21^st century America.  He grew up there, played high school basketball and launched his career as a world traveler and reporter.  It shows that humble beginnings cannot stop anyone with a vision of their life and endless energy to pursue it.

(Another West Coast bicycle rider stopping to eat at the famous Edison Cafe where Edward R. Murrow started his life.)

“You ready to ride Sandi?” I asked.

“How about one more piece of raspberry pie?” she said.

“Have at it girl,” I said. 

Sandi loves to eat.  This bike ride guarantees her hunger levels to jump off the chart.  That’s okay, because she can eat all she wants. Bicycling causes incredible calorie burning.

We talked to several other touring cyclists on the same route, but who pedaled much faster.  They marveled at the beauty of the countryside and small towns right out of the 1930s.  Small town America remains a fabulous place to live.

We pedaled through farm fields growing potatoes, corn and wheat. We cranked along flat land with trees surrounding the road. 

Black birds, robins, crows and sparrows flitted through the air in great numbers.  We kept pedaling until Route 20 cut left at the Fidalgo Country Inn. We stopped for the night.  Fantastic hot showers and food from the restaurant.

Up at sunrise, we hit the road to ride through deep forest green woods and glimpses of the inlets along the route.  Vast tidal plains lay bare with low tide.  We pedaled through Anacortes and ever-deepening rain forest woods until Puget Sound opened up to a blue expanse with fog banks rolling across the waters.

We swept around several lakes until we arrived at Deception Bay.  Riding through dense rain forest, we arrived along an inlet from the Pacific Ocean. Ahead of us, a wild, swirling mist swept over Deception Bay Bridge. 

(Sandi in front of Deception Bay Bridge with the fog rolling over the top in the background.)

“Wow, look at that mist curling over the top of the bridge,” I said to Sandi.

“It looks like some kind of magic coming off the ocean,” she said.

A sign read, “The swirling waters that pass between the narrow inlet between Whidbey Island and Fidalgo Island have captivated visitors to this area for thousands of years.  Salish Native American tribes were the first to inhabit these islands and navigated these waters in cedar canoes as they traveled westward to the San Juans to fish. The first explorers to chart these islands in the 1700s mistakenly assumed the two islands to be part of the mainland and thought the powerful currents came from a mighty river to the east. Captain George Vancouver realized the mistake and named it “Deception Pass” in 1792 when he explored the Northwest Passage.” 

We snapped several shots standing on rock fences as the mist swept up the channel and over the bridge.  From there, we walked our bikes over the bridge on a narrow sidewalk meant for only one person.  We pulled our traffic-side safety flags off the bikes to let other walkers past us. 

(Sandi looking out to the fog rolling in over the Pacific Ocean toward Deception Bay.)

Sandi looked out toward the blue Pacific. 

“This fog is SO beautiful,” she said.  “Look at the islands out there and fishing boats, plus all those diving birds.  This is a birdwatcher’s paradise.”

“Sure is,” I said.  “Gees, it must be 200 feet from the bridge to the water.”

“Yeah, here comes a barge carrying a crane,” said Sandi.

We snapped several neat pictures before continuing toward Oak Harbor, Washington.  We loaded up on food before heading to the ferry, which would carry us to Port Townsend.

We pedaled through more forests and farmland until we reached a savannah and the ferry. We made it with only two minutes to spare.  We rolled the bikes onto the car deck, secured them to the bike racks and walked up to the main passenger deck.  Blue ocean and beautiful mountains greeted us to the west.  About 45 minutes later, we steamed into Port Townshend, Washington, the “Seafaring Port of the Northwest” from back in the 1800s when visionaries built the town as the trading post of Pacific Northwest.

(Loading the bikes onto the ferry and securing them against the wall with bungee cords.)

Downtown Port Townshend featured stunning brick hotels, restaurants and businesses right out of the old west.  We saw 1887 marked on the fronts of most of the buildings. 

At dinner, we sat in a fancy hotel looking out the windows at the streets realizing that generations of visitors dined and stared out the same windows over 120 years ago.  They looked at horse-drawn wagons while we looked at cars.

(Sandi pedaling off the ferry in Port Townsend, Washington.)

As twilight fell, we pedaled to the edge of town where we found a cement pavilion behind “The Cup Restaurant” along Main Street.    We pitched the tent behind the building, plugged in our computer in a socket and quickly feel asleep.

The day delighted us from pedaling our bikes over a bridge that allowed us to cross over to a different moment in time. Sailing ships and sailors plied the same waters with Captain Cook and Captain Vancouver. Aborigines paddled their canoes.  We explored with pedal power in our time. The sense of adventure ran through their bodies as much as it ran through ours.

(Typical hotel from 1886 in downtown Port Townsend, Washington.)

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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: