My Route


For more detailed maps, scroll down through the blog. Click on any one to enlarge it; use the backspace button to return to the blog. That goes for the photos, too.

Saturday

Day 77: Sunday, 16th September. Destination: Eugene International Hostel, Eugene, Oregon

The field notes to my map had warned me that precipitation increases on crossing the Cascades, and they weren't wrong. Today was an easy-going trundle down to Eugene alongside the McKenzie river, dressed head-to-foot in rain-gear to keep out the drizzle and the cold. One point of stress first thing in the morning whilst packing up my panniers: no sign of the photo CD which has the only copy of the photos I took between Bar Harbor, Maine and Missoula, Montana. Could I have lost it? Initial panic settled down by a realisation that I wouldn’t have accidently taken it out during the day due to it being tucked far away from possibly wet rain-gear & bike tools. Therefore, it had to be at one of the Motels I’d stayed in. What’s more, I had it in Missoula, so there weren’t so many places to check up in between.

When I finally arrived at the Eugene Hostel (located a bit out of town) I had the place to myself, and so I settled down to phoning up all the places I’d stayed. Nice to hear they all remembered me, and although no CD case had turned up they all said they’d have another look and email me if it turned up. I gave my niece Sally a phone to say Happy Birthday, but she wasn’t in so I sent her an email instead. I cycled back into town to eat at the nice and studenty High St. Brewery & CafĂ©, where by coincidence they played ‘Birthday’ by The Sugarcubes – as well as a personal favourite, ‘Sheena Is A Punk Rocker’ by The Ramones. Oh Culture, how I’ve missed you. Back at the hippy hostel, the place had got a little busier. Not exactly sociable, though: long-term residents seemed to treat the place as their realm, leaving me to feel like an outsider. First time I’ve had to queue for a shower for some time, and I haven’t missed that a bit.

Finally finished The Edible Woman by Margaret Atwood, and traded it in at the hostel’s library for This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Oh, one other good thing: I got a bunk room all to myself.