I’ve been back in Portland for a couple of weeks now, and quite frankly I forgot about this whole blog again. This is something that happens to anyone who runs one of these things as well as holds down a full time job. But that should be no excuse.
My trip was full of excitement, ferry crossings, lazy afternoons, technical mishaps, and lots of beer. In the weeks leading up to my departure, the weather on the islands was gloomy and wet. But as the day drew near, the skies parted and 70 degree days dominated the calendar. When I jumped on the bus to go to Seattle, I knew I was in for a great time.
Upon arriving in Seattle, I met up with Cory of Dank Bags, and we proceeded to bum around Seattle. We took in all the sights, from Cool Guy to Gas Works, with plenty of lazy miles.
In the morning I woke up to the sound of trains in Interbay. The sky was crystal clear, and I leisurely made my way to the ferry station. By leisurely, I mean that I had some breakfast in Fremont, checked out Swift Industries in Ballard, and sunbathed at Myrtle Edwards. My vacation was off to a great start.
The ferry crossing to Bainbridge was filled with tourists, and although I was one of them, I reveled in the fact that I was somewhat different. I’ve always loved the anonymity that bike touring can provide, and it was easy to blend into the background. After departing the boat, I made my way north through the island. The sun was already beating down, and water stops would be frequent throughout the day.
Leaving Bainbridge, I crossed over to the Kitsap Peninsula. In my research leading up to the trip, I noticed a large swath of land for mountain biking just south of Port Gamble. Soon enough I found an entrance to the trails, and a handy map to take along with me. The area is filled with various types of trails, but the most exciting thing for me were the fire roads that linked everything together. Following these roads I was able to cut off a couple miles of highway, which was a relief. I didn’t see many folks around on that particular Monday, but the tracks spoke for themselves. I took my time, and eventually popped out at Port Gamble.
It’s long been known that the Hood Canal Bridge sucks for non-motorized traffic. I knew about this as I was planning my trip, but wasn’t too worried about it. Much to my delight, the bridge has been made more appealing for bikes with a wide shoulder and grippy pavement over the metal grating. Aside from the high winds, which are inevitable, the crossing was awesome. As you come around the corner from Port Gamble, you are thrust onto this bridge spanning a couple miles. It’s quite a sight to behold.
Once across the bridge I took the first right up the hill to take the back roads to Port Townsend. After a morning of steady miles, a break was in order. In my time as a bike tourist, I’ve learned a few things about what keeps me happy and fueled. I wasted no time in acquiring my supplies.
The rest of the day flew by. I rode into Port Townsend along the bike trail, had a couple beers on the waterfront and finally settled down for the night at Fort Worden. I had planned on bush camping outside of town, but when I went back to make camp a couple sketchy looking dudes were hanging out. I opted for the populated state park and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was fiddler’s week. The sounds of fiddles, banjos, and singing filled the campsite as I made dinner and passed out.
Before heading to the park however, I made a quick stop by the courthouse that Misia and I were married in almost 7 years ago. At the time it was covered in scaffolding, but today I sat for a few moments, thinking about where we were in 2006, and where we are today. I am so happy with everything happening right now. Life is rad.
I’ll post tomorrow’s journey in another post, hopefully tomorrow!