Murrs Across America

August 14, 2010

It’s late as I sit down to start this entry, and I feel sleepy, refreshed, peaceful, and… guilty. I just had a nice cool shower after a long day in the sun biking with the Murrs, but when I last saw them, they were sitting at a picnic table loaded up with all their belongings next to their tent pitched in the middle of center field. We had yet to confirm a shower on site at the Clatskanie City Park, and temperatures on the road today brazenly approached 100 degrees, surely more with the waves of heat emanating off of the asphalt. We were all sweaty and a bit tired, but Stuart and Kate smiled with serene smiles as their kids played, and my family and I backed out of the parking lot and headed down the road back to our home in Portland.

We (my husband Billie, two daughters, and I) met the Murrs two days ago, and today they let us share a small piece of their grand family biking adventure. My family just moved to Portland from Springfield, MO a few months ago, and we’d been alerted to the Murrs’ actions from various mutual friends. Inspired by their endeavor, my husband Billie extended an invitation of hospitality when they reached Portland, and dinner plans were made. As I speculated on the meeting, I wondered if they were worn out from the journey that was soon coming to an end, or were they energized from all they have accomplished. They walked into our home with warm smiles and hugs all around, and yes, they looked both tired and energized.

Kate’s enthusiasm and encouragement is contagious, and I just can’t pass up her invitation to join them for a day’s ride before the grand finale. As I have only been biking with my girls around town and not across country, I opt for riding just one day; I don’t want to impede their progress on the home stretch with their end date in sight. Today’s (Saturday, August 14) leg is logistically simple, as they were just north of Portland last night, and my husband- who is unable to participate in the ride due to several broken bones he sustained on an unrelated bike wreck- will be available to shuttle me to the Murrs in the morning and back home at the end of the day.

When we pull into the city park where the Murr family had camped last night, we immediately spot Stuart milling around with Jane and Brady. There’s a bouncy slide set up in the park, and the kids are hopping on over. Stuart supervises the kids’ play time until it’s time to head back to camp to check on Kate’s progress packing up. She’s exuberant when I pull up and she immediately greets me with an enthusiastic hug and starts taking pictures. I’m officially a guest rider for the day! We hang out at the campsite a while chatting, putting together last minute arrangements, and letting the kids run around like kids. It’s time to go; we load up the kids and head out. We make it from the campsite to the parking lot (50 or so feet). Then, we have a brilliant, albeit late, idea. Hey- why don’t we load up your extra gear into Billie’s truck so you don’t have to haul it all for a day? Excellent. So, about 5 minutes later and dozens of pounds lighter, we head out again- each of three adults pulling a Burley trailer with one kid in the back.

We make it down the road a few miles (just 2 or 3) and Stuart turns into a gas station to buy some ice. The kids are already declaring their hunger and the Murr parents don’t encourage mutiny, so we find a little park and have a picnic. Food is good, kids get to run around a little more, Kate and Stuart get to clean up after a toddler accident, we get loaded up again, and we’re back on the road. While we ride, Kate easily chats and my passenger (my daughter Ella) occasionally makes comments/requests- “I want water,” “I want to play.” I already recognize the extra patience it must have taken to cross the entire country, thousands of miles, while still seeing to the whims and needs of two little kids. Schedules are hard to keep, and there are a lot of extra little stops or things to be taken care of. But, Stuart and Kate take all of these things in stride today, and the kids are really great. They nap when they get tired, they sing us songs along the route, and they play and embrace each other with great enthusiasm at our rest stops. They add unmeasurable joy to the trip.

We do a good jaunt after lunch and make it down the road another 18 miles or so until we reach the town of Rainier, OR. Stuart had gotten wind that there would be a festival in town, so he stops and asks the first person he sees where we can find it. We are informed that this particular festival is just a day in which people and businesses all over town have garage sales. Okay, not what we were looking for, but surely a good way to discover some deals if you were in a shopping kind of mood. In Rainier, in search of ice cream instead of deals, we are directed to a great little cafe and have a fabulous treat of freshly made milkshakes, homemade cherry pie, and an order of french fries. True Americana!

Now for the home stretch- after experiencing a day in 90-100 degree heat, I know my limits and have already contacted my shuttle (husband) to be on call in case I can’t keep up with the Murrs on the last 13 miles over the coastal mountain range to their day’s destination. Good call- right out of town is the first incline. Up, up, and up, and the sun’s still blazing. When I start to fear that I’ll see that milkshake again, I know that my day is almost done. About ¾ of the way up the mountain, there is a well-placed scenic viewpoint, and there my chariot (aka Toyota Tacoma) awaits! I huff and puff the final feet, pull into the viewpoint and call it a day. The Murrs, however, still have 12 miles and another small mountain to climb before they’re done. To ease the weight burden, we load Jane up with us, then we head to the next town, Clatskanie, to do reconnaissance and find a spot to camp. We procure a place on the baseball field of the city park next to a half dozen large RVs and one other bicycling couple in a tent. Jane teaches us how to set up the tent: First, you look for pine cones. Then, you look for sprinklers (advice that is followed by a story about setting up camp in a place that had not yet removed the sprinklers and getting a wet surprise). Jane is very helpful and comfortable with the camping living. She gets out her toy bag and starts introducing each of her toys to Ella. It’s been a good day.

And, just like that, Stuart and Kate arrive with little Brady in tow. They’ve finished yet another day on the road. We leave them to rest and recover together as a family. It’s been a long and surely challenging journey for the Murrs, but they seem to be handling it with ease, taking one pedal stroke at a time.

Stuart and Kate and Jane and Brady-
Your fellow Watershed Committee board members have arranged for you all to stay at the Cannery Pier Hotel in Astoria — (www.cannerypierhotel.com). Ron and I stayed at this hotel last fall and loved every minute of it. Your room faces the Columbia River channel, so you have the chance to watch huge freighters coming/going up the channel carrying oil, wheat/grain, cars, supplies, etc. to the ports in Portland. Be sure to get the ship schedule from the front desk to watch for the ships — the kids will love it! Also, be sure to look for the complimentary choc-chip cookies in the lobby when you arrive!

Justin should be at the front desk when you arrive on Sunday and knows about your journey and that this is your last night on the trip (he’s the one I talked to when booking your room). They know you will have bikes and 2 buggies and have storage available for all.

You are paid and confirmed for Sunday night; however, if you don’t make it on Sunday night, they can transfer the reservation to Monday night, although the room availability is rather slim for Monday night. If you need to change the reservation, call Justin at the # below.

We are all so proud of you guys and so excited to hear the stories when you get home. On this last night of your trip, sit back, relax, and enjoy the huge pride of accomplishment of completing your dream!! You have done what many others only hope to do!

We all hope you enjoy this wonderful hotel!

With lots of Springfield hugs and high-fives!!
Leslie, Bill, Ted, Mike

The sprinklers rained on us in the night. Though Dan, the campground host, whom we will later refer to as “Dan the Adventure Guru”, had placed big custom-cut PVC pipe couplers at strategic sprinkler stations, the high pressure spigots sent a spray of water up and over the diverters to our rain fly free tent at about 2am.

I awoke before my soggy family and practiced yoga with the sun and windmills, who were impossibly silent, clean, and hopeful. The periwinkle sky behind them looked to me like a pool of God.

After breakfast and camp packing, Dan pulled his kayak down to the river, which was of amazing interest to the kids. He let them play in the boat that was his vehicle of choice in the summer to cross the river for groceries while he told us stories. Dan has lots of stories because he sailed around the world for 13 years and used to race motorcycles and sailboats. Any story that begins with, “So we were sailing into Bora Bora..” and may or may not include references to cannibalism or diving for lobsters is one I want to hear. Dan instructed that the secret to sailing around the world for so long is to make sure to find a good hull for hurricane season. And then he laughed, because he couldn’t think of anywhere on Earth that might be. In two years, Dan wants to bike cross-country with his daughter to celebrate his 70th and her 18th birthdays.

We had met Peter and Jan the night before, and we stopped by their RV to visit on our way out of the campground. They sold their house five years ago and have been touring the country in their coach ever since. They were curious to hear the stories of another family on the road. Though we had planned to visit briefly then head down the road, the forecast for 100 degree weather coupled with Peter’s invitation to trout dinner made us rethink our plans and stay.

We enjoyed a lazy day of swimming and visiting. Jane and Brady played with the other kids on the beach. At one point, the thermometer in the shade of Peter and Jan’s awning read 105 degrees. We invited Dan to dinner, but he declined because he predicted that the wind would pick up and he would need to be out windsurfing. It took very little arm-twisting to convince Dan to take me out with him for a lesson, during which I experienced brief successes in sailing and a long swim back to shore. Jane tells the story this way: Mommy kept falling down but she got right back up and she sailed just a little bit and had fun.

Dinner was scrumptious because it was made with love. Peter and Jan did most things with love, in fact. As fellow travelers, Peter and Jan extended a special sort of hospitality to these wayward Murrs. And so we spent the night on the RV couch because the sprinkler diverters had all been distributed and we might have drowned otherwise.

Thank you, Peter and Jan.

(Photos to follow.)

We awoke to bickering crows. I wondered if they were all siblings or lovers. They were relentless in their chit chit chit chit caw chit debate. It occurred to me that we had situated our tent in the middle of the Crow Congressional Hall.

We played with the family-of-ten family all morning. They were all stand-up people, and we each found someone in our age group to share with. I had extremely low energy and napped off and on all morning like a lizard. We all shared a huge watermelon, which was gone in no time.

We finally headed out for our short 20-mile pedal to Roosevelt, Wa. It didn’t seem as hot as the day before and we started to see lazy windmills lining the gorge. Randomly, we followed a trail of road kill carrots all the way to our next campsite.

Note: If you’re taking children to the restaurant/pub in Roosevelt, may I recommend that you don’t take them to the restroom on account of all the “Bares”. The experience left Jane with many questions, including, “Do any of those ladies look like Mommy to you, Daddy?”. Besides, the food isn’t that great there anyway, though the signage is humorous and there’s one that promises free beer tomorrow.

We made it just in time to the Roosevelt gas station at the turn to the free Army Corps of Engineer campground. We sat outside the closed station eating popsicles as the sun set in one of those glowing mental photograph moments when the kids were happy and charming and everyone seemed together. Jane sported a fudge pop goatee. Brady got stickier. My popsicle was pepino con chili (cucumber chili) flavored and burned my chapped lips despite it’s iciness.

(Photos to follow.)

Bob drove us past a precarious place where the gorge started and the road hung over the river with little shoulder. We purchased supplies and started our pedaling in an area known as the “Scablands” in the Horse Heaven Hills. The land there is barren and scarred from the great Spokane Flood that occurred between 18,000 and 20,000 years ago when the ice dam holding back Glacial Lake Missoula broke. Our Adventure Cycling map says that evidence of the flood remains from Missoula, where the ancient shoreline of the glacial lake can still be seen on Mount Sentinel, which looms over the University of Montana, all the way to the Pacific.

The air in the gorge smelled like rosemary and there were rattlesnake warnings everywhere. The desert scrub landscape contrasted with the tall electric line towers and it was black-asphalt-on-unexpected-desert hot. Not far from where Bob dropped us off we came to the Paterson Onion distribution plant, which was watering its lawn. We hopped off our bikes for a frolic in the sprinklers just as an employee was turning them off! He saw our disappointment as he walked back from the pump house to his truck and literally ran to turn them back on. We played. Brady had an excellent potty experience (for those of you keeping track of that sort of thing).

We rode to Crow Butte campsite and Jane kept repeating the first line from a poem we read aloud from a book Aunt Stephanie gave the kids in Lawrence, KS. It’s called “The Lonely Surfer” in which the author explores the relationship between sense of place and identity, and makes children laugh. When we stopped to fix a flat a mile away from the campsite the kids wanted to read the poem and take pictures of each other with the lonely surfer dude.

At the campsite we swam in the river, made stir-fry for dinner, met a family with ten children who gave us sturgeon to eat and let the kids ride their bikes.

(Photos to follow. Especially the Lonely Surfer Dude pictures.)