Miles: 56.84
Total Elevation Gain (ft): 789
Weather: Sunny, Hot
Hillbilly Insults: 0
Roadkill: 8 (Deer, Owl, Mouse, 2 Snakes, 3 Unknown)
Bugs Swallowed: 0
Mean Dogs Chasing: 0

I couldn't distinguish SE Washington's wine country from the Flint Hills of Kansas. Take a look at the picture below. Hot, arid, inhospitable. Good when the grapes must suffer. Not so good when mine do.

Everyone tells me how much they love wine country after they take a holiday. I'm pretty sure it's the wine talking, because the mesas are interesting for a moment until they turn into broiling yellow fields of dry grass.

I had a painful ride into Walla Walla today. I think I might have to drop the mileage or take a rest day until my bottom becomes more human and fades from resembling a baboon in estrus.

Walla Walla: Charming downtown plopped in the middle of agricultural operations. I wish I has another day to explore it a bit.

I was reminded by my brother from another mother, Tom, that today is the 69th anniversary of D-Day. It's makes my whining so trivial!

So, I feel like a schmuck for complaining about my self-imposed mid-life crisis, dream vacation. It's all leisure for me and it was voluntary and conscripted sacrifice for the saviours of democracy.

While my brain was broiling under the skillet that Kali calls a "helmet" (More vents please!), I marveled that German engineering today provides me with impervious Schwalbe Marathon tires. That's a long way from the weapons of the Wermacht and the gas chambers. Thank you General Marshall for taming the Hun!

One final note: Go Bruins! Go Heat! I'm not on the LeBron hatin' bandwagon.

My crappy plastic bar end caps kept slipping off every time I parked my rig. I finally lost one before I hit Hood River, OR. I didn't want my tape unraveling and I needed to conserve duct tape for emergencies.

So, I stopped at a bike shop and purchased these over-engineered beauties. I have no idea if the vibration dampening claims are real. My guess is that my 29" wheels are doing most of the work reducing road shock. I've been a sucker for a lot of bike technology that just turned out to be goofy: rear elastomer suspension; Profile aerobars; biopace chain rings, you name it.

No matter, the Bontragers serve the purpose of staying put. Look how long and fat they are! I had a hard time impaling my bars with the squishy fat rubber enclosures around the brass bars. I used a screwdriver to no avail to jam them. Finally, I just spit on them and they slid right in. It was almost erotic.

So, no more worries about tape unraveling.

Miles: 66.42 Total Elevation Gain (ft): 2455
Weather: Sunny, Hot
Hillbilly Insults: 0
Roadkill: 4 (Goat, 3 Birds)
Bugs Swallowed: 0
Mean Dogs Chasing: 1 (Sheep Dog)

Getting close to the Idaho border.
The winds were fierce today, but mostly at my back. Thank you Zephyrus for the assist over those hills!

The ride was just an uneventful grind today as wine country gave way to wheat farming and wind mills. I'm amazed that combines can manage the steep harvest grounds out here.

Arriving in Pomeroy, I was greeted by the sign below. I don't think this rural community of 1,517 has many Hindus, Sikhs, or Bhuddists. I'm certain they'd be welcome too, if they believed in Jesus. The folks in the cafe are very friendly. I hope they don't smell any of my Jew blood. It's probably masked by my musky odor and my father's parochial DNA.

Katy will be joining me this weekend. It'll be grand to have her around. She's a saint for making the drive to offer me a light bike, SAG stops and company the next couple of days. As well, my mother is making this all possible for coming to my home this summer to help with the pets and kids, not necessarily in that order. Thanks Mom!

Looks like this blog hit 2000 unique visitors today. I don't know who you are, but thank you for checking out my narcissistic ramblings.

Miles: 85.84
Total Elevation Gain (ft): 1862
Weather: Sunny, Hot
Hillbilly Insults: 0
Roadkill: 1 (Unknown)
Bugs Swallowed: 0
Mean Dogs Chasing: 3 (German Shepherd, 2 mutts)

Je suis fatigue.

SE Washington is an arid, unforgiving hotbox. It doesn't matter that the Columbia borders this spartan land mass, except to create annoying winds for cyclists.

Any majestic beauty was lost on me while I managed vital resources for living. I think I downed 12 liters of water today and a couple of five gallon drums of iced tea at stops.

The area supports Washington's vineyards and potato farming. The nice chaps above work for those evil SOBs at ConAgra which bought up the entire place for corporate farming. We met at the lone stop between the start and finish today. A lot of touring folks come through, so I left an entry in the cafe's guest book in Roosevelt, WA.

The area supports Washington's vineyards and potato farming. The nice chaps above work for those evil SOBs at ConAgra which bought up the entire place for corporate farming. We met at the lone stop between the start and finish today. A lot of touring folks come through, so I left an entry in the cafe's guest book in Roosevelt, WA.

Miles: 74.54
Total Elevation Gain (ft): 1137
Weather: Clear, Sunny, Temperate
Hillbilly Insults: 0
Roadkill: 0

A flat ride with a tailwind today. Propelled past Portland to the Gateway of the Gorge. Tomorrow expects to be rough with climbs to Multnomah and Bridal Veil Waterfalls.

It was all business today, as Katy and brood got an early start back home to Bend. It was nice to have a second round of goodbyes. The shoulder on the historic Columbia Highway 30 to Portland was far better than the thin strip offered up yesterday.

Once I crossed the St. John's Bridge, I opted to keep going. Otherwise, I'd be distracted by the great cafes, hipster joints and mustachioed men and women of Portland. What followed was a Byzantine route to Marine Drive which runs right next to the PDX landing strip. It's quite a site with the natural beauty of the Columbia River to the left and the roar of jets making final descents on the right going East to Troutdale.

2% of the way to the finish! My Sisyphean journey gets underway after my slumber tonight.

Miles: 49.38
Total Elevation Gain (ft): 1457
Weather: Sunny, Warm
Hillbilly Insults: 0
Roadkill: 2 (Skunk, Fox)
Bugs Swallowed: 0

"Prevailing winds" can kiss my chafed bum!

I used to think that all rivers ran North to South because im an idiot. They go "down," right? When I found I was mistaken, I was dumbfounded. Of course, now I know better. The Columbia runs East to West.

Similarly dumb, I believed that the prevailing winds out of the Great White North swoop down over America in a Southeasterly fashion. See the pic above. My theory for going West to East was that the winds would carry me like a dainty leaf to the Great Lakes. I had a reality check today.

After a climb and dreamy descent down to The Dalles, the mercury rose and I was hit by a windy blast furnace coming off the river through the Indian reservations on my way to Biggs Junction, OR. It slowed me down considerably. so did my gawking at all the salmon I could have scooped up by hand along random spillover ponds along I-84.

I took a look at the map and didn't feel like climbing Hwy 14 up the mountain this evening, so I stopped to camp, shower and hand wash some seriously foul bike clothing. There ere limited services for the next 84 miles in the high desert. I'm hoping to make it that far, but I've got to be realistic upon my heaviest jealous mistress, the fully loaded, Reubenesque Salsa Fargo. I'll stealth camp somewhere if I must.

It's quite extraordinary to see the massive forests abruptly turn barren as soon as the river bends into the Dalles. Verdant to arid, lickety-split.

Why would I leave my handsomely stunning and generous wife to ride my bike for three months?!

Because I'm tired of sharing a toothbrush and being told how great I all the time!

It's wearing me out--being cherished and nurtured day after day. The blazing sun, hillbilly truckers and filthy camping stalls of the great Northwest call out like irresistible sirens. I've untethered myself from my Ulysses mast and now I'm missing Kathleen's birthday.

I admit that I'm a lucky SOB. Very few spouses would allow their husbands the freedom I've been granted to do all the crazy shit I set out to do. Yes, only expletives will do when describing what Katy puts up with. Even fewer spouses are encouraged to pursue their dreams. I've got that benefit too.

So, Katy takes on summer looking after with my adorable little devils while I subject them to a diet of government cheese, camping intermittently woth me amongst wild animals and a hiatus from client cash flow. The benefit to her? My happiness. Truly, truly an amazing woman.

I know I'm gushing, so all you haters can step off and wait until my next churlish post about gear; the route or toilets. For now, I just want to say that I love you Schatz. Happy birthday. You'll always look perpetually 29 as I turn into the real picture of Dorian Gray. Thanks for sticking it out and making our nearly two decade old relationship thrive. It's emerged as the nicest thing in my life, again and again. Mwaa!

Miles: 53.84
Total Elevation Gain (ft): 2712
Weather: Mostly Sunny, Temperate
Hillbilly Insults: 0
Roadkill: 0
Bugs Swallowed: 1

I'd like to thank the Lewis and Clark expedition, the vanguard of American manifest destiny, for allowing me such a fabulous ride today. If Jefferson had not let these brave military officers "befriend" indigineous peoples so we could rob their land, I'd be stuck touring Yankee territory. Imperialism has its benefits. My favorite is modern infrastructure!

I've ridden on some of America's most scenic roads, but historic Highway 30 from Troutdale, OR to Multnomah Falls, OR might be the nicest short stretch of asphalt in the country. It's lighty trafficked, despite all the tourists gawking at perfect waterfalls, bubbling brooks, sheer cliff walls and canopied tree coverage.

I ran into some nice Canadians (all Canadians are nice, I know) by way of Holland and Portland. They were a jovial bunch. I tossed any notion of keeping a schedule after our banter and stopped at one site after another chatting up folks enjoying their summer vacations.

Befriended a fellow cyclotourist making his way to Missoula, MT from Portland, OR. Erik Dunham is a software engineer with an artist's attitude during a tour. He offered a lot of sage advice gained from his years of cycling sabbaticals. Erik, if you're reading this, I plan on finding the brick you been awarded by being such a good patron to Adventure Cycling when I visit their headquarters. Association. If you check back in a couple of weeks, I'll post a picture of it if I'm successful in finding it.

Ended the day with a steep climb out of Cascade Locks followed by a stretch on I-84E. It's the only way into Hood River. I wasn't fond of this part of the route, especially with 18-Wheelers roaring by. The shoulder was mostly wide, but not wide enough to prevent me from peeing myself a bit as a big rig kicked up a few stones that hit my shins.

I felt better while eating my freeze dried dinner, I got a photo text of Camille following me on an atlas. I love that kid!

Tomorrow, I'm going to shoot for the entry into Washington, but I'm tired and might nap a lot along the way.

Miles: 54.43
Total Elevation Gain (ft): 2527
Weather: Clear, Sunny, Temperate
Hillbilly Insults: 1
Roadkill: 0

Vladmir Putin calls "real men" nastoyashi muzhik. It has connotations beyond American translation that embodies the goofy machismo that Russian men are supposed to possess. That's why you see him hugging bears, wrestling tigers shirtless and whacking Ukranian presidential candidates.

Anyway, I know I'm a mere gnat compared to the fellas that endured Tarawa and Bataan, but I felt like a nastoyashi muzhik today. I didnt do a single trial beforehand, so my first real ride atop the Soviet-style Salsa Fargo today was an accomplishment for me. A 70lb steel rig is a far cry from the featherlight carbon fiber road weenie bikes I'm fortunate to own. I had doubts about climbing on such a beast, but found that if I just put my head down and ground the low gears at a molasses pace, I was fine. In fact, the freight train momentum and speed on descents was far more cringe inducing. It's a white knuckle experience to hit nearly 40 mph on a state highway with trucks and a narrow shoulder.

The Columbia River Gorge is spectacular. A friend told me that im riding the wrong direction, since this scenery would be a great capstone to a long journey. Ho-Hum.

Miles: 54.43
Total Elevation Gain (ft): 2527
Weather: Clear, Sunny, Temperate
Hillbilly Insults: 1
Roadkill: 0

Vladmir Putin calls "real men" nastoyashi muzhik. It has connotations beyond American translation that embodies the goofy machismo that Russian men are supposed to possess. That's why you see him hugging bears, wrestling tigers shirtless and whacking Ukranian presidential candidates.

Anyway, I know I'm a mere gnat compared to the fellas that endured Tarawa and Bataan, but I felt like a nastoyashi muzhik today. I didnt do a single trial beforehand, so my first real ride atop the Soviet-style Salsa Fargo today was an accomplishment for me. A 70lb steel rig is a far cry from the featherlight carbon fiber road weenie bikes I'm fortunate to own. I had doubts about climbing on such a beast, but found that if I just put my head down and ground the low gears at a molasses pace, I was fine. In fact, the freight train momentum and speed on descents was far more cringe inducing. It's a white knuckle experience to hit nearly 40 mph on a state highway with trucks and a narrow shoulder.

What awaits a weary traveler in remote places in need of modern plumbing?

The wretched fifth of others, spawned of the Devil's anus. The picture above comes courtesy of the Ranier, OR harbor. I'm only on the second day of my journey, but I'm thinking about abandoning the use of public toilets in rest areas. It's as if the average Joe finds these places and takes license to reenact the infamous Irish prison "Brown Protests."

What I've witnessed is beyond contempt. Rural Philistines have found a way to smear their peristalsic innards on the walls. The walls! This gives new meaning to the "Columbia River Gorge."

Many of you might want to see beautiful pictures of panoramic sunsets--and they're coming--but I want to share my lesser experienced with those that have, or want, to try such an endeavor.
If I find a greater biohazard, I'll post it.

Finally, for those that know me from my "racing days" on the lowly second tier Missouri MTB circuit in the 90's, this is quite a fitting entry for my "Brown Hornet" moniker.

Moving on.