Day 10, Stage 8 - Newport to Coos Bay
98 miles, 8hrs 40 mins (incl. 1 food stop)
It was a restless night last night, not least because I was too tired to get up and switch off the heater I'd left on to dry my clothes, but principally because Sunday's storm had knocked me 20ish miles behind schedule so I knew that, if I was to get back on track, then I was on for having to do a not- insignificant 98 mile day - longer than I'd ever ridden before, even on an unladen bike. The task seemed even more difficult when I awoke to vague recollections of switching my alarm off, something I'd obviously done 1hr 40mins before. As a result, it wasn't until 9.15 that I finally rolled out onto the damp Newport streets, though thankfully under blue skies. There was, however, no sign at all of the tailwind I'd been hoping for but the slate-smooth roads made for great early progress alongside a seemingly endless sandy Pacific beach. One thing that I was acutely aware of in the damp morning air of those early miles was the distinctive aromatic smell of the US' largest cash crop. Now I'd thought it was only a Northern California thing, but obviously not. Anyway, I pedalled on and quickly found myself in the delightful little village of Yachats, where I would have stayed last night but for the storm delays. Stopping off in the Blue Whale restaurant I ordered a breakfast so vast the waitress announced it's details to the whole cafe. Thinking about it, the order was perhaps, in no small way, influenced by what I'd been inhaling in those early miles. As I sat hoovering up copious amounts of French toast I knew Coos Bay, at some 76 miles further down the road, was a big, big ask without the tailwind I'd been counting on.
And then, out the corner of my eye it started twitching.
A few more slices of toast later and it didn't just twitch but started meaningfully fluttering. It was a multi-coloured windsock fish outside the house next door and it was positively dancing in the breeze ... my tailwind had arrived! I then knew I was making it to Coos.
The next 20 miles weaving up and around the various headlands easily gave Lake Crescent a run for it's money in terms of spectacular scenery and it was topped off by the beautifully contrasting view from Sea Lion Cave; rugged outcrops to the north and seemingly endless dunes to the south. From here a fabulous 35-40mph decent took me into the start of dune country. However, when I got to the bottom I got that cyclist's sixth sense again that something wasn't quite right about the bike. Looking down, I noticed a disconcerting wobble in the rear wheel. Now as this was a new wheel I just got before the trip I was expecting some of the spokes to work loose therefore, I had been checking them along the trip. But, when I stopped to check them this time I was more than a touch shocked to realise that at least a dozen or so spokes were looser than Ulrika Johnson's chastity belt. A 20 minute rebuild ensued and I set off, with the wind at my back for another 50 sand-dune-filled miles, stopping only for another couple of rebuilds before finally rolling into the somewhat grim Coos Bay. It's meant to be a rest day here for me tomorrow but hiring a car to get out of here for the day looks like the best option as this place ain't the prettiest, even in the sun.
So, the cyclists amongst you are probably asking, why stop at 98 miles and not go for the symbolic 100? Well I'm saving that cycling milestone as a carrot for later in the trip. I've a 113 mile day pencilled in to take me into Moab. Figured that's an appropriate place to do my first century.
Speaking of big days, the toughest day of the trip, on paper at least, is drawing closer. I'd rather not talk about it now though. Once I give the details you'll understand why.
And apologies for yet another gratuitous beach picture, but it was the story of the day.
