Days 6 & 7: Shorter days one planned one unplanned

These two days were lighter on the miles. Day 6, from Castle Rock to Astoria, was supposed to be 68 miles of riding, that was cut short. I rode 43 miles after a mechanical issue caused me to call in my SAG. We knew we wanted a rest day in Cannon Beach, which was only 26 miles (by bike). Today, we are enjoying Cannon Beach, a pretty upscale stop. My topic is the roads I am riding.

Riding

Day 6: 43 miles, 1486 elevation (4 wheeees, one ugh--a flat tire on a downhill will do that)

My ride was a mix of beauty (I guess they all have that), traffic (much of that, too), and mechanical. Let me explain each. The ride along the Columbia Rivers was beautiful. Lots of ups and downs. Beautiful forest and cliffs to my right, and the mighty river to my left. Traffic was busy at first and then lightened up. That said, the shoulders were on the more narrow side.

The mechanical issue started with a flat tire that I made worse. My bike mechanic skills are not a whole lot beyond fixing flat tires. And after you hear the rest of this story, you might question that. I got a flat on one of those nice downhills (see tire below). But after fixing the tire, I had some problems aligning the brake rotor (on the wheel) with the disc brake pads. I ended up bending the brake pad spring, which then rubbed against the brake pad. UGH! It was a mild, scraping sound and I wasn't sure how much damage I was causing.

But Chris was on the other side of that river, waiting to meet me at the ferry for lunch in Westport. So I rode on another 7-8 miles to the ferry and joined Chris for lunch. She had already discovered the Berry Patch Restaurant and it was very, very good. After a long ride, strawberry rhubarb pie a la mode is well-earned.

Fixing the brake pad spring was beyond my skill set, so I decided to have my SAG drive me into Astoria. I had called Bikes and Beyond in Astoria and the owner, Scott, said he would even meet me after hours to fix my bike. I told him that with my SAG, I could be there in a half hour and I was. He fixed it and I am back on my way. This SAG and supported ride thing is kind of nice. See more below.

Day 7: 26 miles, 1270 elevation (no "whees, the roads were wet and windy, so I couldn't "cut loose")

Our of Astoria, I made the safety move to have Chris drive me to the other side of the bridge over Young's Bay. The bridge has metal grating and the ACA maps described it as hazardous when wet and it was wet. So I got a bit of a headstart. Highway 101 is the main artery running down the coast. Whenever possible, the Adventure Cycling Associate (ACA) maps take you off that road. It makes for a longer but quieter ride. Today was a mix of both of those roads. When I rolled into Cannon Beach, Chris had found a brew pub where we had lunch.

The Roads I Ride

Every day on this trip brings new roads, and each one has its own character. A road isn’t just a line on the map—it’s a mix of grades, surfaces, shoulders, and traffic that together define how the ride feels.

Grades

If you’ve been following along, you already know I’ve written plenty about the grades—those long climbs, the sudden rollers, and the “whee!” downhills, many on this trip into double-digits (10-17%). They shape the rhythm of each day’s ride and test both legs and lungs. The road tilts up and down, and with it so does the mood: determination on the climbs, exhilaration on the descents.

Surfaces

But the challenge isn’t just in the vertical. The road’s surface makes a difference too. Smooth asphalt feels fast and forgiving, letting the miles roll by. Chip seal, for those unfamiliar, is a cheaper paving method where tar is spread on the road and then covered with gravel chips. It leaves a rough, pebbly surface that hums and rattles through the bike, slowing me down even when the road looks flat. It’s like the road is reminding me that not all miles are created equal. And then there are bridges with metal grating—rare, but memorable. When wet, the steel can be slick and unsettling, and even when dry the bike can shimmy slightly as the tires follow the ridges. It’s the kind of surface that makes you grip the bars just a little tighter until you’re back on pavement.

This photo shows the contrast between the chip seal on the left and smooth road on the right.

Shoulders

Then there are the shoulders—or sometimes, the lack of them. A wide, clean shoulder can make the ride feel relaxed, like I have my own private lane. But too often shoulders are cluttered with gravel, broken glass, or thorny blackberry vines reaching in from the roadside. A messy shoulder keeps me alert, eyes scanning for hazards that could mean a flat tire or worse.

These vines have thorns that are a lot like rose bush thorns. I am pretty sure you would get a flat tire if you ride over them. They are all over Washington and Oregon, though they usually don't stick out this far.

Bridges bring their own set of challenges. Many narrow down to just a travel lane, leaving no safe space for a rider. On the Oregon coast, where countless rivers meet the ocean, bridge crossings are frequent and often unavoidable. They can be both intimidating and beautiful: crosswinds can push the bike around, traffic passes close by, yet at the same time the views down river valleys or out to the sea are often some of the most spectacular moments of the ride.

Traffic

Finally, there’s the question of who I’m sharing the road with. Light traffic on a backroad feels almost meditative, each car a rare interruption. Busy highways, though, raise the pulse for reasons other than exercise. The whoosh of passing vehicles can be unnerving, especially if there’s little room to spare.

Wrap-Up

Together, the grades, surfaces, shoulders, and traffic give each road its own personality—sometimes friendly, sometimes harsh—and shape the story of every ride.

What did we do off the bike?

When I do these shorter riding days, Chris and I get to hang out more. After I leave, she often does a workout in the hotel. Sometimes does some laundry there, too. She gets to the next town before me, but often finds a place for lunch and checks into the hotel (when they allow early check-in).

In Astoria, we walked around the town that evening. It is a funny town full of contradictions. It has some beautiful Victorian homes on the hills above town. And its downtown is great. But most of the waterfront is run down. There used to be fishing and canning industries on the waterfront, but they are gone and have not been gentrified (yet?). I might describe it as authentic but struggling.

I was late out of Astoria because I had to work that morning. Some textbook work took up much of my morning. Fortunately, the ride was not that long and I made Cannon Beach by lunch.

Astoria is a real contrast with Seaside (which I rode through on the way down) and Cannon Beach. I will describe Cannon Beach more in my next post, since right now, I need to get ready to enjoy the rest day here.