To complete the bike repair side journey: i had ridden fifteen miles or so from the park to the outskirts of Tillamook, where in fewer than ten minutes I caught a ride to REI with Scott, a custom home builder from Garibaldi. We hit it off well. Like so many, he told me that he seldom picks up hitch hikers. I made it to REI in Portland by 4:30 and was out by 6:45 rolling on a new wheel. After dinner I rode to Ryan and Steph’s home in north Portland, where I camped in their yard. Ryan was an organizer of the Cycle Wild Labor Day weekend bike tour to the park (check out www.cyclewild.org). Steph was home and welcomed me with her hospitality. Scott had offered me a ride back, as he was returning the next day, and it worked out – he circled through north Portland and returned me to Tillamook by midday on Labor Day, and I’m back at the state park for one more night, stocked up and with a working bike.

Islands off Cape Mears, with Cape Lookout in the distance

I rode the long scenic route around the south side of Tillamook Bay, past Cape Mears and its famous  lighthouse, which is decommissioned but fully available to the public. The longer scenic route was lovely because it is closed. The road has sections that continually settle and slide down the mountain, and can’t really be fixed, as there’s no bedrock and lots of rain. So it’s closed to cars but entirely passable to bikes. And with no cars, the roadway was covered with leaves and mosses and was a delight to ride, even though quite steep up and down around the cape.

A lovely leaf-strewn road, closed to cars but perfect (and steep!) for bikes

I have now stayed at Cape Lookout State Park for three of the last four nights. I had planned one night, but the wheel repair issue changed the plans. As I prepared to leave this morning, I reflected that this was perhaps the nicest state park camping experience I have had in years. The site is exquisitely beautiful just above the beach, the facilities are well kept, the rangers were helpful, and the hiker/biker section was purposely located far from the industrial RV sections, giving us peace and quiet over the Labor Day holiday. So I made a point of stopping at the entrance station to let Lee, the ranger on duty, of my satisfaction. She appreciated hearing this, as she said she mostly listens to complaints, some of which simply defy reality.

Before I left I also saw that the nearby portapotties were being cleaned up and emptied. I once saw a delightful “mockumentary” Australian film called simply Kenny, about a man who does this dirty work with gentleness, grace and homespun philosophy. The portapotties had just handled a huge task over the weekend without failing; figuring that the outhouse cleaner seldom receives appreciation for his work, I stopped to thank him. His name was Jim, not Kenny, but he had a similar attitude as Kenny in the movie.

Jim, who cleans the toilets

I only rode about thirty miles today. Earlier today I had stopped along the road to adjust a bag, and greeted a German woman whose car had an Ammachi license frame. I’m not a devotee, but had Ammachi’s darshan (her hug) 25 years ago when she came to Lama Foundation, where I was living at the time (and where I did my first-ever PV work). Not a big deal, just wished each other well and rode on. I had a State Park destination planned, but on the old route 101 north of Lincoln City, I stopped to talk with a couple outside their rural handmade home, and within five minutes were invited to stay the night. With prayer flags and Buddha statues, an Earth flag and Hindi Om plaque on their dome, this home just had the most welcoming energy. It turns out that both Shuba and Chidambaran are also Ammachi (Mata Amritanandamayi Ma, the “hugging saint”from India) devotees, who routinely host satsang guests at their home. I had a large tent with bed for the night, right on the edge of a rushing stream. (Their site for their Intuitive Healing work is www.iamawake.com; Amma’s is www.amma.org.)

in the morning I joined them in their morning ritual, which centered around chanting the 108 names for Amma and the 1,000 names for God. I appreciate those thousand names. I believe that the divine takes as many forms as we have imagination to create, that their are countless ways to experience God, and any path that claims to be the one true path is at best deluded.

A most welcoming energy in this home

At the door

My accommodation for the night, with the stream nearby

This ability and willingness to alter my plans as opportunities arise is one of the qualities of this travel that I most appreciate and enjoy. It’s quite unfamiliar, which makes altering my plans on a moment’s notice all the more precious. I’m getting a few welcome comments and replies to this blog, and I appreciate and will share a couple in the next post or so.