F**k this $#!t

I haven't complained much in this blog nor had much to complain about on this trip. That changes with this post.

I remember one time when I got caught in a heavy downpour while biking to school. I got to my first class soaking wet, and by the time it was over I left a huge puddle around my seat. I went home after that, dried out, and flopped on the couch with a cup of tea. You can't really do that out on the road, instead you just leave huge puddles in every store you go into.

My memory is spotty at best of the past few days but I will try to remember the most epic fails and share them with you; in hopes of possibly convincing someone reading this in the future that the Northern Pacific coast is not ideal for biking in March.

I screamed a lot, I know that. I also sang obnoxiously loud, and thought about everything except what I was doing and feeling. My shoes got soaked several times and my feet froze. (Frostbite froze, not just cold froze) My rear tire was so worn that the inner tube started coming out. I broke a spoke and came inches from getting crushed between a guard rail and a semi truck, twice.

Heres a good story for you; I'm fixing my third flat of the day when my tire lever snapped after fighting with it for 10 minutes. I lost it (mentally) and chucked my wheel into the nearby woods. I screamed and cursed, then went into knee deep mud in search for it.

I spent 2 days in Tillamook watching TV at some great warmshowers.org hosts. I didn't want to think anymore. On the road I was going crazy with all the random thoughts popping into my head. Here's a 1 minute excerpt from my head:

What time is it? Why am I so cold? I wonder how they built that handrail. Is my giro guy (food vendor) still back in NY? I need to tell him about my tour when I get back. Yes! The rain stopped. Shit, no I didn't. Dammit I'm so sick of these cars! Whoooosh, whoooosh. Another hill?! Hsiejrhbdowudh. My hands are cold, these gloves obviously don't work. Can I eat my peanut butter sandwich now? NO! 2 more miles, c'mon man! I haven't seen the beach in hours, why is this called the coastal highway again? YES! A gas station just up the road. Let's go inside, spend money, screw my budget, and talk to the people inside for half an hour about my trip. That way I can cool off, get back on my bike and be super cold for an hour before I see another gas station and decide to do this all over again.

So what's next? A bus back to New York.

Just kidding.

I bought some new rain gear and met up with Mike from Vegas. We went to the Portland bike show, then up to Seattle and we are now on our way east to Pullman, WA, meaning I have cheated some 300 miles off the trip. I couldn't give a shit less.

My attitude? Yeah, it's quite different. I'm sick of this shit. It's the end of March and I got my annual spring fever. I though I wouldn't this time around being out on the road and all but the lack of sunlight and constant aggravation makes me feel like shit all the time. Does quitting and going home sound good? Nope. Does continuing sound good? Nope. So what sounds good? Nothing, that's the problem; nothing makes sense. Hence I shall continue with the hopes that all figures itself out soon.

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Alright! That was some of my whining. I feel better now, ready to go out and cross the Rockies, then head into Yellowstone. I have about 39 days to do 2700 miles. If I make it to Yellowstone by months-end I should have plenty of time to finish.

P.S- If you checked out my new flickr photos you might notice that rain is absent in most of them. The reason? I don't take my camera out when its raining, hence you get photos from the 2 minute breaks I was so fortunate to receive between otherwise constant downpours.