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By Alan Snel, LVSportsBiz.com Publisher-Writer
After 34 years, I am back.
Back to the visually spectacular Oregon Coast and U.S. Route 101.
The last time I was pedaling on this paved roller-coaster of a two-lane road overlooking the Pacific Ocean was back in September 1989, when I was bicycling across the country from New York to Seattle and then down the rugged coast to San Francisco.
For 34 years, I relied on the pictures in my head to recall the scenes of natural wonder along the Oregon coastline. The coastal cities rattled around in my brain — Coos Bay, Yachats, Lincoln City, Brookings and Astoria.
On Wednesday in mid-July while Las Vegas back home baked in the 110s temperatures, I pedaled along U.S. 101 mesmerized by the dramatic scenic beauty.
I was surprised by how emotional I got, gazing at the ocean and the beaches, dunes, forests, chasms, capes and inlets along the way this week.
What’s amazing are the mini-climate zones along the route, where it can be perfectly sunny at a serpentine stretch of roadway, then a pocket of fog waiting for you around the bend.
I could not believe I biked this road, from north to south, as the roadway — and the frequent bridges — were narrow at points where the guardrail was literally the edge of the road in some points.
But it was exhilarating to take in the dramatic scenery and the thrill of nature trumped the fears of being crashed into.
*
The thick fog blocked any view of the Bay from Fred’s house. perched on a tall slope of land in Berkeley Hills.
It’s Wednesday morning of this Las Vegas getaway road trip and it’s off to a grand start. I just awoke from one of those deep slumbers that began minutes after my head dropped on to the pillow.
I have known Fred 40 years from first bicycling with him in Ann Arbor, Michigan. He’s a retired teacher and school superintendent and also a stirring public speaker validated by his appearances on The Moth, an open-mic storytelling competition where people chat for five minutes.
Fred talked about his days running a camp for emotionally-unstable kids. It was an amazing talk and one of my fondest memories of Fred was bicycling to his camp 50 miles north of Ann Arbor to see him in action. I recalled one story about Fred at that camp: He was giving out awards to the boys and whispered in my ear, “Watch this one. He will tip his baseball hat when he steps forward to get his award.”
And that’s exactly what the youngster did when his name was called.
Fred had a gift with kids — and it came out in The Moth talk I watched on his laptop. Fred had a great delivery of his words, pausing after important points and tilting his head slightly so that the audience could digest his oratory nugget,
*
On Tuesday afternoon, probably after 5 PM, we went for a bicycle ride.
The scenery was ridiculously exhilarating as we biked on a road called, Wildcat Canyon Road. It led to the East Bay Regional Parks system and the undeveloped land with the stunning vistas were around the corner from where Fred Lived. Fred’s hilly Berkeley neighborhood is around the corner from an enchanted forest of old trees and a swath of pavement slicing through the rich vegetation.
Fred and his pleasant wife, Mimi, are retired educators. Both started as teachers and then became principals in local Bay area schools.
Much of Fred’s life combines education, storytelling and the outdoors. And he’s off to running a marathon in Iceland.
That’s Fred — that motor is still running strong at 61.
*
Day One of the Great Escape from Las Vegas’ Oven Blast Heat began with a drive through Death Valley on the way to U.S. Route 395 and Mount Whitney outside Lone Pine.
It’s a challenging bike ride up the steep slope to Whitney Portal, a trailhead area of camping spots, a store and the first steps leading to the famed Whitney Trail.
I have a simple philosophy. I let the trip take me and not the other way around.
And I try and put myself into places where I put myself out into the universe and allow the harmonic convergences to take over.
Such was the case Monday on Day 1 when I met Andy and his wife, Erin, who finished a hike and met me at the Mount Whitney Trail sign.
Andy mentioned to me the last time he biked up to Mount Whitney was more than 30 years ago. He was a friendly, chatty sort and told me about his gravel bike.
Then they introduced me to another older couple. The couple included a writer from the New York Times who was reporting a story on Mount Whitney.
They were also friendly, sending out the mojo powers to get this road trip off to a good start.
Buy my book, Bicycle Man: Life of Journeys, by emailing me at anel@LVSportsBiz.com