OTIS AND THE BIKE RIDE

The Road I Travel Is Long And Lonely

Tuesday, July 24, 2007 - Day 33

Distance traveled - miles

I took my time getting out of camp today. I was reading more of my book, and I was really enjoying it. I felt like, for the first time in a while, that I was actually feeling something. I nearly cried. Unfortunately I had to deal with Ian for a little bit. I really don't trust the guy. Let me tell you a little about him.

He's an Aussie, roundish guy with a small ponytail in the back. He's loud and completely full of shit. Currently he's riding around the world, kind of. He biked around Australia, some part of India, Greece, maybe France? and across I guess most of the U.S. and now down to South America. Again, he's full of shit, so I'm not sure how much of this to believe, but I guess it's one of the most credible things he said. He has obviously biked the Pacific coast before. He knows the parks and the landscape. He was wrong about a few things south of here, but it probably has been a while. I knew from the moment he started talking that I was going to have no interest in talking to him. He's way too loud and a braggard. You can't have a conversation with him, all he does is talk about himself and the supposed shit he has done. He loves to talk about getting drunk. He likes to brag about his bike, which really wasn't that nice. Everything he said about himself was bragging in some way. I can't believe I talked to him for more than 2 minutes, but I sat and drank some tea with him last night. He talked about having some friend in the CIA and his knife and his guns and getting even with his ex-wife and hating her and helping his friend get even with his friend's ex-wife. He claimed he has a plane and some nice motorcycles. I thought about it this morning, and he's the kind of guy that, if you were having a bad day, had a tough ride and told him about it, the only thing he could probably say in response would be something about how drunk he got that day or something stupid about his ride. I didn't want to deal with him at all this morning, but I knew he was giong to try to talk to me. I just pretty much ignored him and continued reading. It still took him over 5 minutes to get the picture. As I went to the bathroom before I left, he was still there. I was just brushing my teeth, but while I was at the bathroom, which was about 700 yards from the hiker/biker spot, I realized that I don't trust this guy at all. I left all of my stuff there; I can't see him from the bathroom; and I have no reason to think that he won't steal my laptop or camera or something. It made me really nervous, so I hurried to get back to camp, without flossing. He was gone when I got back, and it doesn't seem like anything is gone.

So enough about that motherfucker. Today was plagued with headwinds. There was some nice scenic views along the coast, though. To be honest, though, I feel like the ride was mostly forgettable. Thinking back, I don't remember much that stood out today. I talked to some friendly librarians at Port Orford, but I'm finding that people have not been as outwardly friendly here in Oregon. I've had really no good conversations with strangers since I got here, no open displays of hospitality. I think part of that stems from the fact that there are so many bikers passing through here. They probably don't think anything about it to see one more. Along the 1 in California, it was different, especially south of San Fran. Not nearly as many bikers passing through there on long expeditions. I've found that the majority of the people I meet up here are only going as far as San Fran.

So other than seeing Gifford at Harris Beach, I really haven't had any good conversations in person since I got into Oregon. I saw my friend Steve briefly at Harris Beach, as he arrived on my second night there, but we didn't really talk much at all, and he stayed on there another night, so I probably won't run into him again for a while, if at all. There are four other bikers here tonight. Three of them are French, don't seem to speak English too well. They were not interested in conversation with me. The other guy is older, from Colorado. He is on a long trip, but he is just so matter-of-fact, uninteresting. All he talks about is his trip, but not in an interesting way. Also, he was already laying down for the night when I got into camp. I guess it's another lonely night.

I really hope to see some friendly people in Portland. That is probably my next good chance to have some really good, positive interactions, unless I meet some cool bikers along the way. These coastal towns are mostly small, quiet, and a bit hick-ish. I wish I could call people more often, but I still don't have service all too often, and really it is hard to find time to call. I don't take long breaks during the day, and at night I usually get into camp with just enough time to set up, do some cooking, eat, and maybe read for a bit before going to bed. Plus, it's really rare that I have service from the campgrounds. Maybe the towns and campgrounds to come will offer some new friends. To be honest, at this point, I miss the California coast. Hell, I'm not even on the coast for half the time.

We'll see what tomorrow brings.

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[Otias]

Evan

Keep on keepin' on, son.