WEDNESDAY 18 MAY 2016
HUMBUG STATE PARK - BANDON
1150 - 1700
54.23 km (33.7 miles)
Av. Speed: 14.2 km/h (8.8 mph)
Max. Speed: 48.2 km/h (29.9 mph)
Time On Bike: 3h 48m 12s
Setting out from Humbug just prior to midday, I confronted the third straight day of notorious Oregon coastal headwinds which were doing their best to blow me back to California.
Earlier, I had made the spontaneous decision to hike up Mt Humbug before breakfast, all 1742 feet of it.
I had always assumed that if one was to climb to the summit of any hill or mountain, a panoramic view would be inclusive of the experience.
After 3 miles and a bit over an hour of climbing up Mt Humbug, I found no such thing.
There were some nice little peeks of the coastline on the way up to be fair, but a wooden marker was about all that was to be viewed from the top.
I made well and sure to enjoy the walk back down the hill twice as much as a result....
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THE PEEK-A-VIEW FROM MT. HUMBUG (ABOUT 2/3 THE WAY UP) |
Once out on the road, I spent the first hour of the day crawling around the Port Orford heads, eventually dropping down the other side of the hill and into the town itself.
The wind was absolutely screaming up the main street to greet me, so there was never going to be a better opportunity to call into The Crazy Norwegian's for some lunchtime fish and chips.
I pressed on into the afternoon, continually resisting the wind and making the next stop of substance in the small highway town of Langlois.
Langlois is apparently "world famous" for something, though I know not what exactly.
It is however possessed of a public library on the western side of 101, so given my plans to camp for the next several nights (i.e no internet connection), I decided to call in and attend to some housekeeping.
During this 30-minute stop, something happened to the weather.
From previously clear and sunny skies, dark clouds had rolled through from nowhere in double-quick time and were now threatening rain.
And sure enough, that's exactly how it happened.
What began as light and misty moisture had become a steady downpour as I headed towards the town of Bandon at around 5 pm.
The southern approaches to Bandon are appalling - undoubtedly one of the most dangerous I have encountered so far, with the road itself narrow and providing no shoulder in either direction.
Throw into the mix poor visibility with the rain and rush hour traffic pouring into town and it was nothing short of treacherous.
On only my third full day in Oregon, I have been less than impressed with the condition of the road in many areas and even less so with the drivers, many of whom are driving way too fast and too close for comfort.
In short, I'm starting to feel more like a sitting duck than a cyclist.
South of Bandon unfortunately, things got way too sticky for my liking.
I've certainly not been shy to let some of these drivers know - truck drivers in particular - of their inappropriate driving.
This has typically by way of hand and finger gestures when required and I'm typically hoping they are well aware of how unappreciative I am of having bits of my body scraped off when they barrel past within inches.
About 5 miles south of Bandon, yet another car driver tried to run me off in what were already difficult conditions and I responded in kind, which this driver well and truly saw.
The car slowed and to my dismay waited for its opportunity to U-turn in front of me and head back in the other direction.
I could then see the car approaching slowly from behind to make a second pass.
Talk about a sitting duck.
I'm not one to scare easily but this was just a little on the freaky side.
So not really knowing what this individual had in mind as they approached from behind I pedalled on undeterred and waited for....something.
In an instant, I could sense that I was not going to be run over as the car edged along side me.
The next most likely thing as I saw it was a round of verballing but again, in an instant there was nothing of this nature.
What came next was a bottle flying out of the window and aimed directly at my head.
The projectile did fortunately miss its target and duly smashed on the embankment to the right hand side of the highway.
I pedalled on from here, somewhat in disbelief that someone would actually try to do this and somewhat in relief that I was still upright.
Disconcertingly, this individual remained only a few hundred yards ahead - obviously and intentionally keeping me in their sights all the way into town.
More practically, I pulled into Bandon cold and wet - along with being completely aghast at what had just unfolded.
As I proceeded past the first set of traffic signals, this car was immediately in front of me and clearly lying in wait, which had really started to freak me out.
I had to make a quick decision at this moment - to become entangled with a psycho redneck motherfucker (who was also possibly armed) in a highway town to which I have absolutely no connection or affection, or to get off the road AQAP and get dry and warm.
To what I realise now as being my great fortune, I rode no more than another 200 yards along the sidewalk before seeing a sign that read "Bandon Police Department" to my right - to pull in here was the only option I was ever going to take at that moment.
Once again, to my good fortune, the police station itself was directly at the rear of this particular complex which so happened to set back from the highway and more importantly for me, well out of sight.
I had a brief snoop around and determined that the station was actually locked up.
So I proceeded to unpack some dry clothes and get changed immediately.
Formulating a rushed plan of attack in the moment, I decided that I also needed to now find a place to stay - pronto.
Aside from everything that had just taken place, camping at nearby Bullards State Park in this shitty weather was not really an option.
Just as I was about to pull on my shoes and socks, a police officer appeared in the parking lot and asked if he could help me.
He introduced himself as Officer Lombardo and I continued to tell him what had just happened.
I was able to describe just about everything to the tee - including getting quite a good look at the guy and his car as I pedalled behind for 30 seconds or so back up the road - but unfortunately not the licence plate, which was about the only genuinely useful bit of detail I could have provided.
At that stage, I probably couldn't have cared less if Officer Lombardo had tracked him down within half-an-hour and given him a third eye - I just wanted to get off the road and find a motel room for the night.
Officer Lombardo gave me his card and this did at least give me a phone contact if there was to be any more trouble.
Directly across the road from Bandon cop shop was the Bandon Inn, which pretty much was the closest and, as it turned out, nicest place in Bandon I could have possibly selected.
Luckily for me, they had a room available which had ground floor access and was well out of sight from any potential stalkers.
I had also gone for a quick walk down the highway for a few minutes in my new "disguise" (i.e,civilian clothes) to see if my new found friend was lurking about anywhere.
After determining that he wasn't, I headed across to the Bandon Inn and booked in for the night.
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