Sinko de Mayo

Toledo, Washington to Saint Helens, Oregon. Sunday, May 5, 2024

Or maybe I should title this post Stinko de Mayo. My clothes were all dry after hanging by the space heater overnight, and seemed remarkably odor-free. But then I was reminded of that Febreze commercial, where everybody but the reeker notices the reek.

But no, I’m calling it Sinko, because the rain never stopped, for a second straight day. I know, I know, I got the memo, the Pacific Northwest in the spring. Get over it. Easier said than done.

At least I was comforted by an old friend. The Adventure Cycling Association, the AAA of the bicycle crowd, had curated most of the route I followed today. I have described this organization, the former Bikecentennial, in my post of 5/2/21. What a joy to have your path chosen by people with local knowledge, rather than just by an algorithm.

In my further musings about the differences between our nation’s capital and Washington state, I focused on Columbia, DC stands for the District of Columbia. But no, there is plenty of Columbia in Washington state. As previously mentioned, the highest point on Mount Rainier is called Columbia Crest. And much of the southern border of the state is defined by the Columbia, one of our nation’s great rivers.

I’ve seen it only once before, when we crossed near Astoria on our West Coast bike ride in 1987, the bridge there was 4 1/2 miles long. The Lewis & Clark bridge at Longview was shorter, but just as high. There was only a narrow shoulder with no margin of error, with the cars and trucks whizzing by only inches away. I had to keep an iron grip on the handlebars, and didn’t dare stop for a picture until I got to the crest.

And then suddenly I was in Oregon, following the trail of Meriwether and William, I had earlier followed their route through North and South Dakota. I was hungry, there was only one dive in Rainier, didn’t look too prepossessing, but they had a crab salad to die for. It sheltered me and the bike through the heaviest downpour; the patrons inside were mostly focused on losing money at the multiple casino screens, but were bemused at the sight of this dripping wet stranger and his peculiar story.

They had trouble grasping what on earth I was doing, but they were kind and wished me well. Also kind was the motel clerk, Amber, who did my laundry for free since their guest machines were broken. I was grateful, did not want to show up at my friends’ house tomorrow in clothes that had been unwashed for three days.

Interesting parenthetical note: Cinco de Mayo is a much bigger deal in the US than in Mexico, where it is only a minor chapter in their vivid history.

 Distance 54 miles, 467 total. Time 8 hours with stops. Elevation gain 1452 feet

©️ 2024 Scott Luria