Oregon = Epic

So we have finished Washington... blew through it in about two days?! And entered Oregon via the Astoria bridge the day before yesterday.
Which marks the first official time I have been truly scared on this trip thus far. The journey across this monster of human ingenuity (in bridge building), was harrowing... and cannot be described to it's fullest by a mere blog.
I will try to give you highlights:
You have about two feet of shoulder, barred on one side by a concrete wall and the other by incredibly fast cars AND semis (often towing trees of awe-inspiring sizes). The bridge is 4.2 miles long, and stopping is not an option (unless you are fucking crazy and your name is Diego). The last mile or so of this crazy adventure is a straight uphill test of your endurance with your two foot space strewn with dead seagulls who look up at you and plead for you not to run over their carcasses and instead risk your life by swerving into traffic every time. At the end of the uphill ride of possible death, you are rewarded by a rollercoaster-esque downhill curving off ramp that towers over the town of Astoria and is not as fun as it should be.
My hands were killing me at the end from having gripped my handlebars till my knuckles were white for the entirety of those 4.2 miles. At the bottom, Tina was waiting patiently, with the same look of "oh my god i can't believe we just did that i'm so glad we're alive and i'm pumped up with adrenaline" I most surely had on my face.
So we treated ourselves to a motel and a mexican dinner. The motel being a place where "sleeping under the bridge is not a bad thing". We got to wash our clothes (thank god, we STANK), and watch a relaxing "Top Chef" marathon as we laid there in a sort of comatose exhaustion.
(This is similar to many scenes of the two of us from the PCT... watching shows about either food or nature every time there was a t.v. in our midst.)

Now we are in Nehalem, Oregon... staying at our first "road angel's" house. He (his name is David) found us in Cannon Beach, outside the bike shop where he works, and invited us to stay with him when we felt up to the 16 mile mountainous terrain between Cannon and Nehalem.
The kindness of strangers we encounter on these journeys is so inspiring. I love it.

Squatch, of PCT documentary film making fame, joined us for lunch and ice cream on the beach in Cannon and sat across from me as I chipped a large chunk of one of my molars whilst biting down agressively on a rock in my salad. FUCK. Hope that doesn't become a problem. Eating is important on excursions such as these.

Anyways... the Oregon coast is too beautiful to describe, so just visit it. Especially the stretch we did yesterday. Literally awe-inspiring... i kid you not. Apocalyptic beauty.

Diego is riding with us to California, and is a welcome addition to our tour. The three of us conquered our first tunnel together yesterday with Diego leading the charge singing loud Spanish songs that echoed off the rocky ceiling. It was pretty cute. Slightly scary, but i am hoping that my scary level as reached it's peak with the above mentioned bridge crossing experience.

Things are good. I am still sick, but it doesn't seem to matter. As long as Diego keeps giving me those weird Spanish drugs.

Can't wait to see what is around the next corner or over the next mountain.