Keeping a hairy upper lip

Once again we woke to find it had been raining in the night. The rain eased before we got underway, but wet weather gear was still the order of the day. We headed north under leaden skies, talking about what good luck we had in landing in Rockaway Beach for the night. It was a wonderful place to stop.

About 25 miles up the coast we detoured into trendy Cannon Beach to see the Haystack Rock for ourselves.

It was a relatively short and quick run from there to Astoria, a seaport at the mouth of the Columbia river. We stopped at a Flea Market in the city centre, and wandered around looking for somewhere to buy coffee. (I don't have a caffeine problem: I have a lack of caffeine problem...)

Astoria appeared to be an ordinary town but if you had the time to look it gave you a few pleasant surprises. The two major landmarks in the city seem to be the Astor column, (fabulously decorated with a mural and with a spiral staircase inside for benefit of the energetic) high on a hill above the city, and the 4.8 mile long bridge (below) that crosses the Columbia River to Washington state. We rode up to the Astor column to take in the views of the city, river, and lush countryside to the southeast, an astounding view. We were not long there when the weather closed in.

Our GPS got rather bamboozled as we descended from the hilltop, and firstly tried to take us down a rode that was closed, then insisted we turn all the way back into Astoria, when the road we wanted (202) was a few hundred metres away in the opposite direction. I trusted to my instincts and found it in spite of the GPS. The road was initially rough and winding, (the odd deer we passed looked stunned at our presence) and in the wet we kept our speed well down. The road was almost completely devoid of traffic in either direction, and we were able to enjoy threading our way through verdant forests.

The road crossed the Nehalem River at least a half a dozen times and rode through Jewell which seemed more of a name on the map than a town. At Birkenfeld we stopped for lunch at the biker-friendly historic store and cafe for lunch. The decor is interesting and natural. While we were there a couple more bikers arrived, and we introduced ourselves to Doug and Tim. They are organising a Poker Run to raise money for charity, and were reconnoitring the route. We learned from them that on a Poker Run, bikers take a route that passes through 5 control points and that they get a playing card at each point. At the end of the ride the biker with the best poker hand wins a prize. We chatted a lot over lunch, enjoyed their company and made two more friends.

Mike, the proprietor joined in, and we had a lot of laughs - especially when Wanda wanted a photo of him because she liked his flamboyant moustache. Let me just show you where this ended up:
(I couldn't allow Mike to be the only good looking moustached person in the cafe.- Wanda)

The sun came out and we were getting warm, but we cooled off quickly once we got underway. A few miles down the road we passed through the little town of Mist, so named (I reckon) because if you blink on the way through, you've missed it. The road became smoother and faster and under clearing skies we made good time to Scapoose where we joined Highway 30 into Portland, a no frills busy city, where it began raining again. We took a bit of a trip through the city centre before heading out to our motel about 7 miles away.

Most of the roads today were easy riding and with pleasant curves although there was one white car that found itself facing the wrong way, tail up the hill  and off the road, resting in fresh green bushes. Obviously, the road can be a little slippery if you take the bends too quickly.

Somewhere, in the distance, there has been the long sound of a train hooter along with it click clacking on the rails.