Day 6: Gold Beach to Harris Beach State Park

How reassuring to get emails from friends as I journey further and further from home. 

Every day I ride, I feel my ties to Corvallis both pulling at me, and repelling me.  Bittersweet?  Grieving again, lost opportunities, dreams, years.  Grief for me includes weeping, and also raging against the despair, the stress that drove me into self abuse.

I am grateful that you all are reading, traveling along with me. The loneliness of this journey is an important part of my healing, as it forces me into deeper introspection, which I hope will birth insight and inspiration.
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Got a late start, dreading the ride.  The gale winds had subsided, over 2″ of rain overnight, leaving a cold drizzle.  I resigned myself to one more day of the cold, wet travel.  Problems with the gloves I bought in Florence – waterproof meant they held water in really well, once wet.  Very cold hands.  The rest of me was wet, but relatively warm.

Then somewhere south of the Pistol River the sun started peeking through the clouds, then the clouds opened up and blue sky and sunshine returned.  Whoops of joy from this happy relieved cyclist.

I rolled into Brookings with ample time to ride on to Crescent City, but the brakes on the bike were too soft coming down the cape, so I headed to a bike shop for repair. 

After 2 hours of fiddling with the weak pull on the brakes, I discovered my conversion of the Miyata to 700c wheels created a problem – incompatible break lever arms.  (If you’re reading this Richard, I’m going to have you build some custom cantilevers once I get back!)

I rode back north to Harris Beach and set up my tent under some magnificent firs.  Rain gently returned.  I will sleep well tonight.