November 12th, 2003
Reservoir sleep spot untrue wheel

a view of Oakridge

We head further east out of Eugene. The air is hot and the sun warms our skin, we bike through rolling hills towards the mountains in shorts and T-shirts. These record high temperatures convince us that rumors of snow to the east were highly over-rated Approaching a damn we notice that my rear wheel is untrue, the nasty cheater rubs against my brake pads and my spokes make pingy noises because of tension imbalances. We just have enough daylight to stop and fix it and find a waterside camp spot.

The rain starts in the morning as we pack up and begin climbing hill. It is cold and wet, we are quickly soaked and tractor-trailers make for a sketchy climb up this windy road. Our bodies are working to keep climbing, so we stay “warm” except for hands feet the stop at a gas station to empty our tanks leaves us chilled because we’ve stopped moving. Johanne’s tire needs to be replaced. A little later she gets another rear flat caused by a patch that covers a hole in her tire. We proceed to lose all sensation in our extremities as the repair job drags on do to an increasing loss of motor skills. Twenty minutes later we leave the truck filled road for a corner store at the outskirts of Oakridge. To our delight they sell a 40ounce hot chocolate for only two bucks we slowly lose the shakes while downing the massive drink. Obviously we’re having doubts about climbing to 6000 feet today. The lady at the store tells us there is probably snow at the mountain pass and with a concerned frown directs us to the Trailhead Café just across the street where information may be forthcoming. We coast over and are welcomed inside by cheers! Our new friends inform us that snow is highly likely and we’re better not to go for the thirty-mile climb.

Hippies in Oakridge

We meet a man named Mitch who invites us to use the cabin behind his house to dry ourselves out and properly assess our situation. We accept and load the bikes into his friend’s truck, it begins to snow on our way up the hill to his house where we’re glad to take off our wet socks and warm up our feet beside a piping hot wood stove. Minutes after we arrive Kip shows up and treats us with some guitar playing. He has an amazing voice and both of us are touched by the incredible luck we have to be here. Suddenly it doesn’t seem to be so bad to be stuck here with a 6,000foot mountain pass full of snow that is famed for having swallowed a wagon train in our way. There’s only one way to put it, Mitch is a wonderful man, the perfect host. He takes care of us hand and foot for about five days and is constantly finding new ways to help us out. Not only are all our needs taken care of but this kind-hearted Englishman entertains us amongst his friends. We soon realize that there’s a tightly knit community Hippy friends here who support each other through just about everything.

One morning Mitch took us on a tour of the town. We went to the fish hatchery, the covered bridge, and up through a high meadow covered in a light layer of snow. A herd of about a hundred elk was grazing right there in front of us and once again we felt like the luckiest people in the world as a beautiful buck raised his head to look at us just a stones throw away. When our stay had come to an end Mitch offered us a couple of train tickets to get out of the snow (we hope) and down into northern California. We make our preparations to leave with warm hearts happy at having met so many good people in such a short time. Our bikes get tied up on the top of our friend Ian’s car and we head back down to Eugene along with Mitch and Forest who we’d come to know as the “the man about town” as he was everywhere we went. If we meet the little guy again we’ll be sure to let him know “careful, or I’ll have to beat you to death……again”. We say our sad goodbyes and pay twelve bucks for two sandwiches that last a good five minutes as we wait for the train. But our luck is not out, the station’s vending machine is out and gives us five free packets of chocolate covered peanuts.

We ride the train for a few hours happy to have avoided death by freezing. My old friend Rowan is waiting for us at the station and we pop across the state lines to Mount Shasta. Rowan, Rachel, Jo-Lyn and little Aeden live here and welcome us into their home for the next two weeks.

We spend our time in Mount Shasta writing and translating articles. Due to weather concerns (cold!!) we hadn’t written anything since Newport Oregon so we have a good four articles to write before we move on.

On a side note, our camera began to malfunction in Seattle and we had to send it in for repairs while leaving Eugene. While at Shasta there were complications and we had to have the camera sent to a friend’s house down in Napa Valley. We apologize for the lack of photos between Eugene and Napa besides those we didn’t take.

Our stay in Mount Shasta is marked by good bread, a wonderful and energetic baby girl, walks on the mountain, good food amongst friends. Otherwise we were holed up like a couple hibernating bunnies, writing articles and transcribing interview tapes. We realize that we need a new transcribing strategy when our last interview takes six consecutive hours to finish (it’s all part of the learning process). We spend American thanksgiving amongst friends, there’s excellent food, succulent turkey, great wine, and a baby crawling around under the table. Rowan takes us down the un-bike-friendly I-5 to Redding and we’re off once again. It’s been at least three weeks since we rode our bikes so we are happy to set off up an enormous hill in the drizzle and fog.