On June 17, my spouse and I left our home in Long Beach on bicycles with the destination of downtown LA—Union Station to be exact. It was the first leg of our first self-supported, multi-day bicycle ride. Our plan was to take Amtrak to Portland, Oregon, and spend 6 days riding the Willamette Scenic Bikeway down to Eugene. During that time, we would enjoy 2 layover days to ride locally and then we would catch Amtrak in Eugene back to LA.
We had never done anything like this before and with the second summer of COVID in progress, we wanted to travel, but try to avoid driving, flying, or camping, like many people were planning to do. Also, this summer, I will turn 50 years old and wanted to celebrate life by doing something that seemed worthy of being on the planet for half a century.
On the way downtown, we rode at a good clip, mostly on the 710 bike path, until we had to exit into industrial traffic for the last 3-4 miles to get to the train station. It was a Thursday morning, so commuting traffic was much heavier than when we had scouted it out on a Saturday a couple of weeks earlier. We were motivated to ride this part because our train trip was over 20 hours and overnight; getting in some activity beforehand seemed like a good idea.
We logged 24 miles before we got on the train and had plenty of time to get our tickets processed and make our way out to the platform. It was really exciting as neither one of us had taken a train trip like this before. The Amtrak station was so easy to navigate and the people who worked there were very helpful. I highly recommend train travel if you have the time to do it. It is relaxing and fun to watch the geography change.
Since our trip was overnight, I booked us a roomette which gave us a small private berth with two bunk beds for sleeping. I am not sure how well one does sleep on a train, but it’s a neat sensation to feel the car listing along the tracks carrying your body through space.
We woke up the next day in Northern California, which seemed weird since we had been travelling all night long. We had breakfast and lunch in the dining car as the day progressed and I got more and more excited about getting to our destination at 3:30 that day. What you learn quickly about Amtrak is that there are delays and on this particular journey they had added up to become significant. Amtrak must always yield to freight trains, and after a while it was clear we were not getting to Portland on time. We would have to ride 30 miles once we got there, so my excitement turned to nervousness, then to frustration, then to anxiousness.
Thankfully, this time of year the sun doesn’t set until 9 pm in the Pacific Northwest, so once we got off the train around 8 o’clock, retrieved our bikes, reloaded our packs, we still had some daylight left to ride. We were prepared with reflective gear and night lights and knew—more or less—how we needed to get to Newberg. Many people have asked me if there was one highlight or a best part of the trip. Honestly, I cannot isolate the experience to a single moment. My major goal was to enjoy every pedal stroke, no matter what. So, riding out of Portland, as we saw the moon get brighter and the sky get darker, I embraced the moment and stopped worrying about how the itinerary had changed.
We rode into the night and arrived at our first hotel in Newberg, Oregon, at 11 pm. While stopped on the train tracks earlier in the day, I had called the front desk clerk to let her know we’d be getting in even later than I thought. She was still there, waiting for us, when we pulled in the lobby and she seemed as relieved as we were that we had made it safely. Unfortunately, the town was already asleep, so the only thing we found for dinner was a small bag of pistachios from the vending machine. Still, it was nice to shower and sleep in a large, clean bed after the bunks.
The rest of the trip was pure joy and excitement. Each day all we had to do was get up and ride to our next destination. There was no rush and pedaling through the green, bucolic world of the Willamette Valley was such a treat for us urbanites. The traffic was minimal. There were nice wide shoulders to ride on and mountain ranges in every direction.
We rode through hop, barley, and berry farms. The smell of strawberries ripening in the fields was heady, as was the smell of roses blooming in yards offering free eggs. At other times, the scent of cut wood was predominant.
We spent two nights in Independence and then two in Corvallis. These days were especially fun, as we could leave our traveling packs and ride our bicycles free of any extra weight. In Corvallis, we were treated to some fine local riding by a friend I had made on the Dream Ride in 2019. He and his wife were such great hosts, that they even made us a home-cooked meal—a real pleasure after eating out for 5 days.
Our longest day of riding was from Corvallis to Eugene, about 60 miles. There we were going to stay with some old friends. When we were less than a mile from their house, I asked George to stop because I needed to absorb what we had accomplished. In this pause, I cried. I was both happy and sad: happy we had imagined, planned and executed this trip, but sad that it was ending.
There’s a lot of time to think while cycling but it also keeps you tethered to the present moment. If this pandemic has taught me anything, it is to enjoy as well as you can every single day—no matter what occurs. I have been seeking greater life balance with the work I love and the play that I need. And it was such a great trip that I was glad to get back to the clinic. It is important to spend time with people you love doing things that make you happy.