I had a superb rest day in Eugene checking out the city and the Saturday market in the day and catching up with Steve, my riding buddy from a few days ago, at night over some soul food at Papas and some drinks at Sam Bonds.
I was brimming with manic energy as I sat in the bar listening to dissonant noise rock, the back of my mind turning over and over the notion that I would see the pacific tomorrow. I weaved in an out of a few spirited conversations with bar goers talking about my trip and Oregon. An old couple with white clouds for hair and orange ear plugs sat 5 feet from the stage bobbing their heads to the cacophony. At 10:30 I decided reign in my excitement and leave for a good night sleep while the getting was good.
Florence is 70 miles due west of Eugene. Sue, my gracious host in town, plotted a longer alternate course with less traffic, but by the time I got underway I couldn't stand tacking on any extra miles and decided to ride the busy route 126 out of town. The road remained comfortable flat 30 miles or so and then some rolling hills and a few steeper ascents began. I marveled at being so close to sea level. Summit signs listed feet of elevation in the 100s and not the 1000s. I stopped for a quick sandwich at a country store, but didn't care to linger. I was too excited.
The last of the hills unwound and I started to riding along side a river, the outlet of which I knew I could trace to the pacific. Green mile markers appeared on the side of the road. 5, 4, 3, 2 ... I intersected with the pacific coast high way in the middle of the town of Florence and decided to find a hotel first before venturing on. I had been toying with the idea of riding up a part of the coast and wanted to get accommodations out of the way.
Having no immediate coastal access from the town of Florence, I headed 6 miles north to Haceta beach. As I got back onto the Pacific Coast Highway I felt the immediate blast of fierce headwind, the same consistent northernly wind that makes riding south down the coast so popular. I kept my head down and pushed on through until turning off onto Haceta beach road.
I road through a little enclave of suburban homes and streets. Sand dusted the pavement and the tips of dunes appeared high over embankments on my left. Finally, through a parking lot between an embankment on one side and a hotel on the other i spotted a sliver of long sandy beach and beyond it a dark blue swath of the Pacific. I stumbled down a little path with my bike onto the scarcely populated beach to see the full expanse of the shoreline. I knew my trip was over.
I rolled my bike out to the water and for moment felt a bit outside of my own body. A kind couple, who I asked to take a few pictures of me, shared in the excitement. My feet turned cold as the ocean water splashed over them. That's it!
