When I was thinking this whole thing over, way back last summer, I guessed it might take me 70 days. And here I am, just on the other side of the Sound from home. One ferry ride away. I would be lying if I said I wasn't ready to be home. I am. As much as it's been a wild ride, all good things must come to an end. Or else they might stop being so good.
The morning came slowly. Cool by the ocean, and good for sleeping in. I got up first as usual and futzed around until the others got up. Granola and yogurt for breakfast. After that we all packed up but this time Liam and I loaded up our bikes while Evan, Lluc and Ian threw the rest in the car. They'd be heading back down I-5 towards home. We said our goodbyes and see-you-soons and they rolled outta there. We followed suit shortly after and began a fairly hilly ride along the western shore of Whidbey Island.
Some Naval bases around here, and lots of Fighter jets roaring over us while we rode. Pretty little seaside shacks lined up along the beach here. We stopped and ate celery on the beach by one of the largest bull kelp forests in Washington.
God darn I love Northwest beaches. Rough stones covered in barnacles, piles of driftwood, slimy globs of sea weed and tall sandy bluffs.
We rode for a while longer along a winding road under peeling madrona trees by a little bay.
Eventually found ourselves in Coupville. Cute waterfront street.
Had a hot dog at a little stand before realizing we had a ferry to catch to Port Townsend in 45 minutes. Busted out those 5 miles to Fort Casey and got to the ferry terminal with time to spare.
More views of beautiful Whidbey on the way.
At the terminal we chatted with some friendly cyclists also waiting for the ferry, who congratulated me on my travels. Seems odd to be accepting congratulations before I'm home but I guess I kinda have done the thing. Still, I won't be satisfied fully until I'm at my front door.
The ferry was short, but I had time to go up top and get a photo approaching Port Townsend.
They had ropes hanging with which to tie the bikes.
Liam broke my flag again while dismounting, but I forgave him.
Port Townsend was nice. A little strip of San Francisco out here on the Sound.
It wound this way and that through forests and fields until Port Hadlock. The most interesting bike trail I may have ridden on yet.
Port Hadlock was confusing. Never heard of this place nor had a reason to go here even though it's not far from home. Pretty tired and probably dehydrated so I took a wrong turn and ended up in Chilicum. Realized the mistake and tried to right it but ended up just taking another wrong turn. You'd think I'd have this navigation thing figured out by now...
Eventually figured it out and found camp at a county park on the Sound.
A little spit sticking out with some picnic tables and fire pits. Fella hollered at Liam while we rode in and told him it was $20 to camp, but they had an extra site we could stay in for free if we wanted. They seemed like nice folks, having a cook-out or family reunion thing, so we accepted.
Charismatic middle-aged dude with granny glasses talked to us as we cooked supper about a bike he used to have, and later asked us, "You guys don't drink milk, do ya? Like from a cow?" and continued to tell us how he makes kombucha (he pronounced 'kum-BU-ka'). They gave us some chicken that we threw in our rice and beans.
Night came and we crawled into the tent listening to him ramble on about something. Life on the road never fails to deliver surprises.
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