13th Feb.

Back home.

Everything is transient, the good and the bad; comfort and discomfort, struggle and ease, day and night, muscle and lethargy, strength and weakness, journey and arrival, beginning and achievement, ambition and calm, elation and gloom, plain sailing and snow storms.   I think a cycling journey shows you that.

It was harder than I had thought it was going to be, not so much the cycling, but looking after myself and the bike, and being out of place, but I have some great memories.

I'm curious as to what it is that drives human beings to take on challenges, whether it be endurance, sports extremes or exploration.  Is it an expression of self-resilience, for curiosity, ego or self-worth, for the regard or respect, or for the hell of it?  Is it for the adrenaline rush, to test our limits because our culture of ease doesn't, to make us feel alive, because modern life doesn't, or to test the body's capabilities, because most modern occupations don't? Is it the desire to experience something that has made us admire others, sparked an ambition, and posed an unanswered question about our character?  Is it because it doesn't have to be fun, to be fun?

Whatever it is, it's a funny thing.  Seemingly unnecessary, but compelling nonetheless.
Sharing it seems an important part of it for most people, either in writing, photography, or story-telling.

There's always going to be someone with a bigger adventure, a tougher journey or a more impressive feat.  Everyone has a challenge that is their own.

I'm curious also about why it is that we travel.  Is it for a different perspective, new ideas and inspiration, to see yourself outside of your usual context, to figure out where home is and see it in a new light?  Is it to take advantage of a modern privilege, curiosity for culture, language and landscape, for the buzz, the exotic and the novelty, to take a break from home routine?  Is it just because that's what we do in the holidays, for social status, and because the grass might be greener on the other side?  I'm probably biased, but I haven't found anywhere, in all the travels I've been privileged enough to set out on, that for me rivals the rugged beauty, freedom and peace of the west coast of Scotland, despite, or maybe because of the challenges of weather and season.   I'm looking forward to staying on home turf now; soil to be cultivated, adventures to be had, plenty of exploring on two wheels and relaxing to be done here.  Home sweet home!

You could say that I have thoroughly scratched my itchy roving toes, for now anyway!

Many thanks to so many people for their generous donations to the Samaritans.
Over £1000 has been raised now, great stuff!
https://www.justgiving.com/lizziecycles

11th - 12th Feb.

Little trace of the snowy chaos now, Portland back in action.  City transit train to the airport with my bike.  Found a quiet corner of the airport to dismantle and pack it into the box.  Managed to clear the area, with the ear-offensive screech of sellotape, two large rolls.  Sorry!

Three connecting flights; to Seattle, to London overnight, and finally to Glasgow.  Airport time, procedures and flying were an ordeal, as always.  I don't think I want to do that again.

Treated to the Daily Mail's headlines on the flight leaving Heathrow.  I am one of those people who reads other people's newspapers over their shoulders.  I'm embarrassed to think that these negative headlines would be one of the first impressions someone would have of the UK - that people print and buy dissatisfaction and horror, daily.

Met at Glasgow by my friend Ben, bike builder and mechanic, moral support extraordinaire!

8th - 10th Feb.

Lots of places closed in Portland because of the snow - schools, shops, the library.  I asked some people outside a computer repair shop where I might find an internet cafe, a rarity now, and was invited in by Peter, the owner, to use the computer in his office.  Cheers!
Lots of brick buildings here, rather than building with wood on the coast, and the centre is on a walkable scale.  More powdery snow falling, the blizzard passed though.

Light snow still, lots of places still closed - paper signs on the inside of doors saying they're closed because of 'inclement weather'.  Found a great cafe though, on Peter's recommendation, 'Case Study Coffee', watching snowy proceedings out of the big windows.  Seeing as cafe time is one of my favourite occupations I can hardly complain!

Walked across to SE Portland, across one of the bridges, several cross-country skiers out and about in the streets.  Seeking out 'City Repair' community projects, street art and bike shops.  (Apart from liking bike shops, I need a large cardboard bike box, in which to fly home my trusty wheels.)  I wasn't disappointed, some colourful stuff out there, amongst the gritty industrial, and smart residential.  The SE Portland cafe scene is pretty hip, and the tattooed, pierced, androgynous baristas know it.  They are 'Keeping Portland Weird' I suppose, I felt like I was spoiling the ambiance with my drippy waterproofs.

Scored a bike box!  At the only bike shop I found open today - the brightly painted 'City Bikes', with cob sitting bench, mosaic and bike frame awning.  Carried the bike-sized cardboard box for what seemed like miles back to where I'm staying - so glad to have found one.  It is interesting observing people's differing reactions to me in a city environment, when I'm struggling with an unwieldy amount of cardboard, looking scruffy, as opposed to when I'm looking at my best, at ease.  People seem to associate struggle, and lack of attention to appearance, with being in a bad situation, and that creates a certain amount of fear, or mistrust.  If I've approached people along the way, on my trip, I've found that I get the best reaction, when I appear the most confident, orderly, and cheerful.  Especially in a city, looking seriously in need of help, doesn't go down too well.  It really makes me appreciate how difficult it is, for people who are in a bad situation, to get going on a positive track.  I very much doubt if I would have been invited into the computer shop office to use the internet, if I looked in need of a hot shower and some money...but in that case I would have been most in need of a kind favour.

'Freezing rain' is the new topic of weather hysteria in weather reporting, after the most snow in February in 20 years.

I've been reading about Portland's 'City Repair'.  A collective of people, beginning at a residential intersection by one man, who set up a tea station on his corner, and an open invitation for neighbours to stop and chat - re-claiming a public space as a social space, inspired by the European 'piazza', urban spaces for community.  I visited this intersection.  What started as a tea stand, pot lucks and parties, grew into a community, now visible with plant pots, a mosaic wall, wooden structures demarking the 'piazza', a community-built, solar-lit cob notice board box, and a colourful mandala painted over the whole road surface of the intersection.  I had to scrape snow away to see this though!  It also resulted in a new legal right for neighbours in Portland to claim their intersections as public spaces, after the 'unpermitted activities' caught the attention of City Hall, and discussions began. There was a guy at the intersection parking his car.  I asked if it was his intersection, was he local?  He said, 'Yeah, it was started by the guy who lives there', pointing to one of the corner houses, 'there's a lot of petty crime around here, cars being broken into and the like, and he was trying to change that, there's a theory behind it!'.  It certainly seemed that people were taking pride in their community space, and it had turned an impersonal  intersection into an extension of home that felt welcoming, even to me as a passerby.  'City Repair' is now a fairly large bunch of people, across Portland, with a website, not bad from one tea stand.  This is a great example of permaculture principles in an urban setting - building community through positive action.

Other places of note...

- A Buddhist temple, no-one around inside, except several larger than life, golden, fierce-looking figures, piles of fruit, and my main impression was that it smelt funny.

- Buffalo Exchange, a large 2nd hand clothes shop, buy/trade/sell, my favourite kind of shop

- Comic book store, everyone with a quirky doodle and a point to make has their work in here, whether it's in a postcard-sized booklet, on newspaper, or in a doorstop tome.  Good alternative to an art gallery.

- A huge block building downtown, the 'Church of Scientology', with free DVDs on offer.  The 'commandments' were listed, visible in the window display, as well as advertising their 'Drug-free' campaign work.  The 'commandments'...all good stuff, and included in the last one 'to prosper'.  I suppose that explains the huge smart building, and swish welcome desk, someone is definitely prospering!

- Union Gospel Mission, a building with many homeless folk around.  Portland has one of the largest homeless populations in the US, apparently because it has services that other places don't have.

- The public library downtown; with free internet computer time, the library attracts an eclectic mix of people, people who wouldn't be able to afford a phone or laptop, an older generation of information-hungry library users who presumably don't have a personal 'device', and transient folk like myself, also without a 'device'.  For that reason, computing at the library doesn't have the best reputation about the city.  You get an uncomfortable insight into poverty and mental health issues, that the engrossed WIFI laptop users in cafes would rather avoid.

Slushy thaw now.  Flying home tomorrow, at great cost to the environment.  Hopefully I've learnt some things along the way to show for it.

7th Feb.

Set off pedalling at a snail's pace of about 2 miles an hour, in a break in the falling snow.  Only the last 5 miles - took forever.  Everything concentrated on not skidding, cars few, and crawling, chains on tyres.  Pedalling past people waiting for buses, I couldn't take my eyes off the road surface and snow, but I heard, 'You rock!'.  I love that, big boost to moral!

Downtown Portland, made it, 1250 miles and 5 weeks from LA, the end of my cycling trip.

Ran myself a hot bath at the friendly motel I found - luxury!

6th Feb.

The toughest day yet, only 30 miles, and so close to Portland.  Tent packed up early, bike hauled over brambles back onto the road, -6°C, battling into a headwind, pedalling in low gears on the flat, snow in the wind now, face stinging, squinting ahead, sunglasses on, ice freezing my eyebrows to my sunglasses, metal bottle cracked open with ice.

A couple of guys in a truck handed me a Snickers bar out of their window.  'I'm so proud of you! Keep going!' - that was great!  Turned down a couple offers of lifts, I really appreciated it, but in the last 20 miles I'm not going to just jump in a truck, snow or no snow!  Really thought I was going to make it into downtown Portland, but the snow was getting heavier, visibility worse, and when it seemed like blizzard conditions I admitted defeat, and trudged along the side of the road, trying to see through my icy sunglasses, until a motel appeared.  Lovely Indian couple at the desk this time, been in the US for 2 years.

Apparently Portland has a snowstorm every 5 winters or so, and this is one of them, and with windchill, it feels like -15°C ...I can believe that.  I thought British people where meant to be weather-obsessed, but American TV takes weather reporting to a whole new level for me. 

5th Feb.

On the road by 8:30am, perishing cold, with clear blue sky.  Apparently temperatures are ranging from -3°C to 2°C, plus a headwind as I turn east inland.  Portland signs; 89 miles, 62 miles, 56 miles, 47 miles, still ice by the side of the road in the afternoon. So far I've had the comfort of cycle map pages, with elevation charts, but now I'm veering away from the coastal route, so I don't know how the road will be.  It was wise to have stayed on the coast until the last 2 days cycling, it's noticeably more wintery inland, also, pretty featureless cycling - long straight road sections, not much along the way.  As I'm heading east, at the end of the afternoon my pedalling shadow is now directly in front of me, the low sun behind to the west. 

Something I've noticed is that certain folk can be very forthcoming with their opinions.  Sometimes this is fun, sometimes it's not.  Unsolicited, doom and gloom opinions on other people's adventures, I don't have much patience with at the best of times, and when it is actually freezing, and my toes are numb, I have even less patience!  My tactic so far has been to laugh it off, and say goodbye.  Maybe if I was a guy, I'd have a big beard by now, and complete strangers would think twice about telling me what I need, and what I should and shouldn't be doing, whether that's heading north, cycling in winter or travelling alone.  Being female and 5 foot 2 sometimes works in my favour, and sometimes doesn't.  Thankfully these irritations have been few.  I'm getting cranky in the cold!

Found a corner of a field to camp on, behind some trees, out of sight of the road.  Amusing, in a fashion, to find that my damp tent had frozen stiff on the back of my bike, and needed icy crystals shaking out of it.  I could have found another motel and been warmer, but I'd have been dissatisfied on some level.  Funny mentality that...

4th Feb.

Packed up a soaking wet tent in the rain, patches of flaky ice, winter waterproof gloves, bike gears full of grit and mud, pedalling down the road all bundled up, a bit grim.  Decided that tonight would be another motel night.  Sky clearing mid morning, some welcome sunshine.  Coffee at the next 'Drive-thru' cabin.  I've come to love a good neon OPEN sign. 

Motel in Lincoln City as it was getting dark.  A most peculiar man at the desk.  He misunderstood most of what I said, spoke to me as if I was a child, and was incredibly particular.  Most irritating, but I wasn't sure how many other motel options there would be, so I stuck it out.  Then in the morning, he said 'We don't get many people like you coming through', wanted to see my bike, and waved me off.  He wore braces, and had come over originally from Germany, 'before I was born' - I didn't know what to make of him. 

Watching American TV news is interesting.  One of the suggested outcomes of the new Obama healthcare insurance is that people could work less, and Obama has recently criticised the media, whereas George Bush, 'to his credit' (!), did not.  I've met people who travel to Mexico from Oregon for dental work, and people who have been unable to get health insurance because they have previously been ill - a common cause of not having insurance.  The Obama health reform makes it possible now for people to get insurance, regardless of previous illness, and this is not without controversy.  It also means in the employer/employee relationship, the employer may have less power, as fewer people will be dependent on their work, as a means to get health insurance as an employee benefit, hence one of the suggested outcomes being that people might work less.  Some people already with insurance, are not too happy about premium increases, as they see it as a consequence of opening up insurance to more people.  I saw one question posed on a political/social show, 'Do rich people work harder, and how much of it is opportunity-based?'  These are big, sensitive issues being discussed.
I've so grateful for UK taxes and our NHS.  Taxes fund civilisation, one of the greatest human achievements; constructing societies where the less able are treated well, to the benefit, in my opinion, of everyone.  This way of thinking doesn't seem to feature in the US media coverage snippets I've seen. 

3rd Feb.

Chilly morning on the fingertips.  Found a great café and library in the town of Florence.  In the afternoon, intestinal cramps and some uphills, not a comfortable combination. Possibly because I ate my delicious, organic, grass-fed beef burger bun too fast, or possibly because of a dodgy coffee/citrus combination.  Eventually this subsided, to be replaced by darkness and stinging hailstones.  Cycling past motels was quite tempting, but I wanted to save my pennies for Portland, and I don't like the idea that I'm getting soft!  Just rain now, easier on the nose.  Eventually the campground appeared, with a 'Closed' barrier across it.  Squeezed my bike underneath the barrier, and now I'm camped behind a hedge, and the rain has stopped - bonus!

2nd Feb.

Set off from the cheap motel I'd found last night, perfect for a bit of head space.  Just pedaling absent-mindedly, 40 miles north to another state park campground.  Put my tent up, and went to explore the Oregon dunes before sunset.  I've never seen a landscape like it.  Huge hills of sand, looking like snowy ski slopes, up to 700ft apparently, with dune grasses and pines in patches, and the sea quite a long way away.

1st Feb.

Early morning walk through the forest with Linda and Ianto.  They go for a walk together before breakfast every morning.  Ianto pointed out huge myrtle, or bay laurel trees, covered in moss, their aromatic leaves, a Douglas Fir 'nurse' stump, from a tree felled in 1910, vivid red coral cup fungi, growing on myrtle fallen dead wood and prolific foliose lichens.  He knows the dry spots where you can stash bits of wood to sit on as a little bench, across from a waterfall, 'the best church'.  He greeted a particular maple, with a branch span of ~100ft.  He pointed out the changes he has seen in the forest over the 20 years he was been walking in this valley, and explained a huge silt-filled basin, now grown over, a consequence of a logging technique of the early 1900s.  The creek was dammed, then released, with hundreds of floating logs, to flow and crash their way down to the town.  Cheap transport, hugely destructive, and since made illegal. 

Back to the cob cottage for breakfast, then helping Linda move various things in the new cob build that'll become the new kitchen.  She broke her arm a couple of months ago, so I was trying to be as helpful as possible, carrying and lifting things. 

I love this place.  If I was American, I'd be moving here in an instant.  It functions as a demonstration site for teaching natural building and sustainable living, a place for sharing knowledge, housing apprentices and various folk, and also home for Ianto and Linda. 

Goodbyes...  After feeling indebted to people's kindness, there's a certain freedom in being just me and the bike, on the road again that I was ready for, and I have plenty to think about. 

I've been on my cycling adventure for a month now.  This time last month I was lying at the side of the road, wondering if it'd be okay to go straight back home.  Several hundreds of miles north, and it feels like I've come a long way. 

31st Jan.

Delicious whole cooked oats and local honey for breakfast.  Out on a fire wood task - Ianto swinging a big axe to cut Douglas Fir trunk sections, and my job was to wheelbarrow them up to the woodshed, and stack them to dry.  Ianto is now in his 70s - architect, permaculture teacher, gardener, cob builder, author, rocket stove designer.  I feel so privileged to be able to spend time with him.  We chatted about finding land, renting or buying, finding community, the importance of having people around, why it might be that people go off on long cycles, and wheelbarrowing tactics.  I'll treasure that conversation. 

Lunch with the neighbour Chloe, and her 3 home-schooled kids.  Anita and Wren, who are already mini cob teachers and tour guides, and 2 year old Moose, who has taught himself to chop kindling from watching people.  Pretty impressive eh?  They all live in a cob house up the hill, and I spent some of the afternoon wheelbarrowing more fire wood up to theirs.  Spending time here is enough to start to believe that we can be really wonderful animals after all, rather than a disgrace. 

The forest here is temperate rainforest, it's thick with moss hanging off branches, mosses and ferns growing well on the roofs too.  The cob houses are beautiful - curved, hand-sculpted walls, living green roofs, small and cosy, wooden ceiling rafters visible, and the rocket stove radiators with cob sitting benches along the length of the pipe work really well.  Ianto gave me a miniature copy of  the book 'Tiny Homes' - something easy to cycle with!  Linda's house here is in it, built by Ianto. 

The evening frogs here are so loud!  There are several ponds here and there, where subsoil has been dug out to build a house, so the frogs are in their element!

30th Jan.

Next stop, Cob Cottage Company, at Coquille, about 16 miles inland.  The side road turned into a small road, which turned into a steep gravel track through the forest I had to push my bike along, which turned into a tiny path through the trees, and eventually, little cob houses! 

Home of Ianto and Linda, co-authors of 'The Hand-Sculpted House', a comprehensive guide to the practicalities and philosophy of cob building, based on their own buildings.  I came across their book two winters ago on a farm, which made such an impression on me, I took myself off to Ireland for a cob course the next summer, and here I am, staying in a cob cottage, just having had dinner with them. 

I left Tammy's with a letter for Ianto, and a bag of frozen salmon carcasses.  Fulfilling my ambition to be a bike messenger, I just didn't foresee it beginning in rural America, with fish carcasses.

It's so magical here, a village pretty much, of little cob dwellings, roofed cob garden walls, an outside kitchen area. vegetable-growing spaces, trees, and a large, deafening frog population.  A lot has been achieved in the 13 years they've lived here - many workshops, courses, apprenticeships and volunteers, many vegetable seeds saved, ideas tested and roofs raised.  Ianto says that he manages to achieve a lot because he gets up early and doesn't have a TV or computer, he does things.  There are not many people who fully live out their beliefs, myself definitely included, but Ianto is one of them.  Originally from Wales, trained as an architect, for some of the time in Edinburgh, he has made Oregon his home, and moved to America originally to get close to the corporate-driven consumerism that he wanted to oppose so strongly. 

Sleeping on a raised wooden bed platform in a cosy cob cottage! 

29th - 30th Jan.

Contouring around Humbug Mountain.  Roadside conifers are a regular height now, can see their tops.  Bike lights on in the day, on account of the mist.  Coastline similarities with Scotland.  Seems like I've cycled from one climatic region to another - no more cacti!  Pedaled into Bandon, via a library where the librarian had been to Tobermory, and some helpful garage car mechanics who sprayed a lot of grit off my chainset and cassette - cheers! 

Welcomed into Tammy and Bob's home - another hub of cob building activity.  Delicious salmon, caught themselves, hot shower, water massage table (!) and a bed.  The kindness of strangers is humbling.  The natural building community is such that an email saying I'm passing and would love to call in, results in being invited to stay as a new friend. 

Tammy and Bob used to manage and maintain high-rise office blocks in Seattle, earn lots, spent lots, not see each other much.  They swopped that for a home alongside a row of dilapidated motel cottages in Bandon, rebuilt by them and rented out to people who would otherwise have difficulty renting somewhere, for various reasons.  Neighbours come and go at their house, and the next building project is a large kitchen space for community food prep. - canning, pickling, butchering and so on. 

Tammy made great French toast for breakfast, with freshly laid eggs - yum.  She then walked and talked me through all the mistakes made, and lessons learnt, in each of the cob buildings on site. We also looked at their large solar water pipe coil outside - cool stuff.  The Cob Cottage Company uses Tammy and Bob's place for cob workshops, and there are umpteen little living spaces, at varying stages of completion.  So generous in spirit, time, knowledge, advice and welcome, such an inspiring pair of people.

It was interesting talking about the stability of cob with Tammy.  Seismic testing of cob has been done in BC, Canada, in advance of building in a public park, and it has been found to withstand up to around 8 on the Richter scale, and fail at around 9.  Cob's strength comes from its monolithic structure, not to be confused with adobe brick building, or rammed earth/earth bag building.  I wish I'd been clearer on this when I mentioned 'earth houses' to a structural engineer from San Diego a while back.  He wasn't impressed, and we had to talk about something else!   

28th Jan.

Mist, rain, sea stacks and foamy waves, logging trucks, and a warm bookshop café at Gold Beach where I could have fallen asleep.  Friendly people - even a wave, a smile, and a 'Have a safe trip!' from the roadworks traffic control folk.  Snug in my tent in the rain. 

26th-27th Jan.

One significant climb of over 1000ft, not too bad.  Freewheeled down to Crescent City, the last big coastal town of Californian before Oregon.  Daylight fading and no sign of an RV park that had tent sites.  Dark now, kept going, until I found a quiet bit of grass behind some houses and trees, and a big pile of grass cuttings and branches to camp behind.  Early start, on account of 'stealth camping'(!), a concerned homeowner appeared as I was wheeling my bike past, his dog making a racket.  I explained I'd been caught out by the dark, was cycling LA to Portland, and had just found a patch of grass to put my tent up on.  He seemed bemused, (my accent always helps with that), said that was fine.  Ten minutes down the road, 'Gordi Bros' restaurant, neon OPEN, was poured coffee, on the house, from the staff coffee pot, by super friendly Jorge and his Mum Rosa.  What a great start to the day!  A flat, easy, foggy 20 miles, over the border into Oregon. 

Trying to make arrangements to visit more cob house building folk further north.  In my search for a working phone, ended up chatting to some gas station attendants, who generously lent me theirs - success!