Ocean Shores

Alright dude, finally here's something new for ya! (and the other three moto-psychotics).


Had the day off today and after some deliberation, I figured I'd head for the beach! It was slated to be 82 degrees in Seattle today and my plan was to head for the Quinault Indian Reservation, and the shores of the Pacific.
I tossed my flip flops in my panniers, wore some shorts under my riding pants and planned to pick up one of those collapsible camp chairs at a walgreens somewhere along the way. Paradise, I thought.. I'd sit on the beach for the afternoon soaking in the sun and maybe leafing through the Dhammapada for some peaceful introspection.

It's about 75 miles of the super-slab to get to the neighborhood, then another 50 or so on state highways before I started to smell the ocean in the air. Finally, I turned onto a twisty-looking two-laner, and as I settled into the groove of the twisties, I noticed the goosebumps on my arms.

Could it be that they were brought on by the possibility that it had just been too long since I've had any fun on a twisty road?

I wondered.. But as I continued hurdling through the one street towns, the sky above began to change.
The temperature dropped at least 20, if not 30 degrees, and adorned only with a mesh jacket, my goal had suddenly shifted from camp chair to sweatshirt.
I hadn't even gotten to the beach yet, but had quickly decided that if I would go any further, it would only be once I found an insulating layer! I pulled into a 'vendor village' as advertised on the side of a city bus-turned hippie-mobile. The bus had dozens of tie died shirts and dresses hanging from it and the door was open to invite shoppers inside. I passed by the bus to talk to the two older people sitting just beyond it; one of whom was the owner and proprietor of this 'shop'. They commented on my bike and I quickly got to the point: 'I'm freezing! I need a sweatshirt.".. "Alright, he said.. I think I've got one left.. it's a tie die, but it's not a gawdy one.. common.." He led me into the bus where there mustve been hundreds of tie died garments and sure enough pulled out the one remaining sweatshirt.. and it was awful. "I'll take it", I said, "how much?" "25 bucks", he replied, "and I'll include the tax for ya". great, I thought.. a 25 dollar sweatshirt that I'll NEVER wear again, and after digging in my wallet (as this was obviously a cash-only affair) I offered him all of my 24 dollars. "that'll work" he said, and I was back on the road complete with a gawdy tie tie hood sticking out of my riding jacket.

Alright, alright.. get to the beach already, right? Finally I pulled off at one of the "coastal access" areas and to my surprise, rode right out onto the beach!


The sand was a little squirrely, but saddled on a GS, there's not many surfaces I won't at least try to ride on. (Did I ever tell the story of riding UP the stairs at Ryan's place in Oakland?? If not, I'll tell it next time..)


I had the place to myself, and sat there about as long as it takes to eat an apple and have smoke while watching the fog roll in off the water.


So the day certainly didn't play out the way I had anticipated, and I still never bought a damn folding camp chair, but these are the adventures that seem to excite me, and I'll need to pick up a chair before the Pacific Northwest GS rally next weekend anyways! Stay tuned for the post from that.. I'll be there the 9th through the 12th.. I guess this'll be my surrogate-mid-ohio..