Part 3: Ocean, Sky, Freedom: West Coast Bicycle Adventure—Canada to Mexico—Stealth Camping

By Frosty Wooldridge

Part 3: Making your life-mate happy!  Coffee delirium with ‘Better Living Through Coffee’, into the Olympic rainforest, 50s diner and iron statues.

(Port Townsend bicycle rack in the sky.)

“Sometimes, while bicycle touring, you never know where you might pitch your tent for a night’s sleep.  Stealth camping allows you dramatic opportunities.  Near twilight, you watch for a quiet country road that vanishes into the trees. You search for an abandoned building at the side of a town to camp behind.  You try to spy a river or lake for the perfect campfire.  No matter what, when people ask you where you’re staying for the night, you say, “Somehow, every night, the ‘perfect camp spot’ makes itself known to me.” In over four decades of bicycle adventures, Mother Nature takes care of me.”  FHW, West Coast Tour

What makes you happy when you wake up in the morning?  Sandi loves a steaming cup of gourmet coffee.  It’s her daily ritual. 

At dawn, we awoke from a long night’s sleep. 

“Let’s go back to that coffee shop on Main Street,” said Sandi.  “I think it was named ‘Better Living Through Coffee.’”

“Works for me,” I said.

We packed out bikes.  A quick ride down a quiet Main Street brought us to a funky coffee shop.  Lots of people stood in line for coffee and pastries.  We sat by the window on the water to watch some ducks swimming around. Later, a deer with two babies walked right along the water’s edge.  Out in the bay, the aircraft carrier Nimitz released from its docking and steamed out of the harbor.  Truly a massive floating piece of iron with an airstrip!

“That’s a monster ship,” I said.

“This is the best coffee I have ever drank,” said Sandi.   “I love this taste.  Yes, that’s a big ship.”

I read the menu, ‘We serve traditionally prepared, nutrient-dense food and baked items all made on site. Our food menu is based on the wisdom of Nourishing Traditions and the work of Sally Fallon and Weston Price. We also offer vegan and gluten free foods for those with dietary restrictions.’”

“No matter what,” said Sandi.  “This is the best coffee of my life. Divine!”

(County building in Port Townsend.  Beautiful architecture.)

We couldn’t help but notice the magnificent buildings created by the contractors back in the 1880s.  The huge hotels with exquisite facades exhibited a much more ornate era with simpler realities in America and the world.

Each building featured tall windows with ornate cherry wood and tall wooden doors. Lavish facades decorated the buildings to present an artistic flair unknown today.

One could imagine the sailors and Dapper Dan’s with uptown ladies on their arms sashaying along the bustling streets.  By the 1890s, the railroads couldn’t make it through the swamps to create a main line into North America. The town dried up.  Big money men lost millions on their speculation.

We found it difficult to pedal out of that beautiful, historic town.  It felt stuck in its own past and time zone.  It’s almost as if America’s civilization would have been better off if we stopped “progress” right at that time.  Much more uncomplicated: simpler, easier, basic, slower, quieter and calmer.

Later, we pedaled through the deep woods out of Port Townsend on Route 101.  We rolled along Hood Canal. Deep woods, along with an up and down road with serpentine curves, carried us southward.

In the morning, we cruised through cool mist.  As we traveled along the canal, fishing boats, sail boats and cabins dotted the landscape.  After a long day in the saddle, we could not find a camping spot to save our lives.  Finally, as night fell, we spotted a very rich home for sale 100 feet vertically up and 200 feet off the highway.

“I’ll bet it’s empty,” I said.  “I’ll go check. Maybe we can camp in the front yard.”

Sure enough, we found a quiet spot near the garage of a mega-rich home.  We pitched our tent on a golf course green lawn, took showers from the shower bag, ate dinner and passed out.  Next morning, we watched birds skimming over the surface of the canal as the sun rose into the sky.  That’s the magic of ‘Stealth Camping’. 

(1930s dump truck and many other old farmers’ tractors dotted the landscape as we rolled south.)

Such clandestine camping may take you down a quiet country road, behind a building at the edge of town, a cliff on a mountain road or by a quiet lake or stream.  You may encounter any other number of amazing spots.  As long as you carry your “shower bag” to clean up after a long day, you get to curl into your warm sleeping bag on a nice self-inflating air mattress.

Next day, we pedaled along the canal where vendors sold big salmon and other seafoods.  Lots of businesses depended on the salmon runs.  Lots of fishermen, luxury fishing boats and sailboats.  Around noon, we reached Shelton where we ate at the Three Sisters Restaurant.  After stuffing ourselves, we snapped a few shots of Sandi beside an 1800s steam locomotive.

We rolled out of Shelton straight south toward Raymond.  Logging country!  Big trucks blasted by us. Then, rain spit in our faces.  The air turned cool.  We sweated, then chilled, and then sweated on the undulating highway.

“Now I know why it’s so green,” said Sandi.  “So much rain!”

We pedaled through ugly ‘clear cuts’ where the lumbermen cut down everything in sight for miles.  They stripped the land down to tree trunks and rock.  It’s pretty unpleasant to see up close.  On a moral level, it means that all the animals lose their homes, which forces them to invade other homes of other established creatures in the remaining forests.  Unfortunately, the human race doesn’t know when to quit. It expands, encroaches and destroys wildlife habitat. That means 250 creatures suffer extinction every year in the United States as our population continues to grow by 3.1 million annually.  Sad to say that no one speaks for the wild life and their rights to their homes.

After pedaling for 35 miles, we reached Raymond at sunset.  We found a beautiful motel inside the city.  We showered up, dressed up and walked to a 1950s “Slater’s Diner” where burgers, fries and shakes take you back into the same era as the movie “Grease.”    Lots of 1957 Chevys, Corvettes, Elvis and Doris Day.

An additional treat greets visitors to Raymond: intriguing iron statues commemorating the loggers, trains and farmers who worked the land.

(Texaco at 29.9 cents per gallon. Now those were the good old days!)

(Older gentleman with a great white beard sitting in a cafe with us.)

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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: