March 12, 2022
Last ride
We awoke this morning not knowing our plans for the day until consulting the all-knowing weather app. We knew we were decamping and driving back to Portland, but beyond that it depended on the weather. For a week straight the forecast has been remarkably consistent - rain was due to arrive sometime between noon and one PM, both here and back in Portland. This leaves open the possibility that we might get in a brief morning ride here in Corvallis, and then drive north; or drive up early and take a morning ride in Portland; or scrap the idea of a final ride in either spot if the rains arrive earlier than last night’s forecast predicted.
We’re uplifted to see that the forecast is slightly rosier this morning. The sun is out, the sky is clear, it’s not too chill, and the predicted onset of rain has pushed out ever so slightly to 1:30 both here and in Portland. It’s enough, and a ride is on. I successfully lobby for riding here - there’ll be time for me to go down to New Morning Bakery one last time and redeem the $5 credit I’ve earned as a repeat customer. We’ll evacuate the motel when I get back, load our junk into the Raven, and bike out to Albany again - a fast, easy ride that’s right-sized for the window we anticipate.
I’m in luck when I get to NMB and see today’s breakfast special posted on the board: corned beef hash and eggs, a favorite I haven’t had for awhile and such a bargain at $5 off. Unfortunately the staff’s worst cook is on duty today apparently, and my over-medium eggs come to the table well browned and over-hard instead. There’s nothing liquid to sop my toast in, so I eat it dry. If it were in my nature to do so I’d send it back for replacement, but I don’t - some chicken went to a lot of work to grow these two eggs and it doesn’t seem right to just throw them out.
My disappointment is quickly forgotten though when we hop on the bikes at just past ten and head west for the Van Buren Bridge one last time. How lucky to get one last ride in here!
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It’s fifteen miles to the park in downtown Albany we’ve targeted as our destination. We’ve got hopefully three hours or so to get there and back but of course there are no guarantees on returning dry. We’ve seen this road just a few days ago so we just ride all the way there save for a very few essential stops.
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When we enter Albany and bike south through its Monteith Historic District a tall multi-spired white church a block off-route catches my eye, and I’m pleasantly surprised when Rachael encourages me to go check it out. She wants the chance to pack on a bit more distance to up her total for the day and says she will just meet me at the park.
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Back on route, I find Rachael doubling back toward me so we can bike the rest of the way to the park together. We’re aiming for Grand Prairie Park, a pretty little green space along Periwinkle Creek that we biked through once in the past. I like it because it’s stuffed with ducks, which I stop to inventory while Rachael pads her distance total a bit more. She’s just a bit disappointed though because it’s not the park she’d remembered and was hoping to see again. That would be the much larger Waverly Lake a few miles further east, best known for Woody the Waverly Wood Duck - a huge 600 pound decoy you can always count on seeing bobbing out in the middle of the lake.
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Missing our chance to see Woody the Waverly Wood Duck again is a small disappointment, but it doesn’t weigh much against our satisfaction in just getting a ride in today. Looking up and to the west though, it’s clearly time to be heading back to the car. The clouds have advanced considerably over the last hour and are now almost overhead.
Rachael steams ahead, striving for all the miles she can fit in; and I go a bit slower to give her the space for it, my eye out for anything I missed on the previous time through. I do find a few things, including of course those irresistible lambs at Iron Water Ranch. The sky is greying over fast though and definitely looking menacing. Two miles from town I stop for one last photo of a field of daffodils bright against the dark sky above and as I start up again I feel a few sprinkles and make a dash to town with three or four other bikers also in a hurry, catching Rachael at the stop light a block from the motel.
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We’re both feeling smug on the drive north as the sprinkles turn to showers turn to full blown rain. We’ve maximized the day, and all the recent days for that matter. We’ve been out on our bikes for nine straight days since Rachael started biking again. She’s averaged 43 mpd and put in pretty close to 400 miles, and I haven’t done that much less myself. And in fact, we’re quite pleased at how we’ve done for this entire Winterlude, rolling up over 4,000 kilometers.
That’s it though, as steady rain is in store for the region until we leave for Barcelona in only three days. We stop off at our bike locker when we arrive in town, locking away the town bikes and picking up the suitcased Fridays, panniers, and other gear destined for Europe. And then we drive north to the new Hampton Inn in the Pearl District, our home for the next three nights.
It’s raining when we arrive so we’re glad there’s an open valet parking spot in front of the hotel. We unload our two suitcased bikes, our six panniers, three rucksacks, two duffel bags, and four shopping bags of miscellaneous stuff on the sidewalk, and then take it inside. Rachael looks for a cart to load it up to take to our room while I wait in line to check in, chatting with an older guy who surprises me by saying he biked across the country when he was younger.
And then, an unpleasant surprise - the agent can’t find us on the reservation list. Rachael pulls up the reservation on her phone, the agent views it, and suggests that we should try the new Canopy Hotel just a block further down the street, since that’s what our reservation is with. So with much good humor we carry our two suitcased bikes, our six panniers, three rucksacks, two duffel bags, and four shopping bags of miscellaneous stuff back outside, reload it into the Raven, and drive a block to the Canopy to unload it again.
Somehow after that merriment it seems like a fitting place to end this journal and make the handoff to the next chapter in our itinerant lives, Three Seasons Around France, Part 1: Spring. Come join us. It wouldn’t be the same without you.
Today's ride: 30 miles (48 km)
Total: 2,665 miles (4,289 km)
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2 years ago
I look forward to the next chapter.
2 years ago
2 years ago
2 years ago
Here's to Breakfast in Barcelona!
Thank youse, Team Anderson, for the stellar entertainment. 🌟
Y, ¡Buen viaje!
2 years ago