The first of many legs

Miles completed: 569
Longest day: 113 miles
Number of flat tires: 3
Minimum number of distinct species of bugs that have bitten me: 5

I arrived in Boise today, having just crossed into Idaho sometime yesterday evening. Eastern Oregon was amazing, there's really no other way to put it. Except for some vague memories of road trips as a child, I've never been further east than Bend, and I've always envisioned it as a dry and desolate place. Well, no surprise here, it's exactly that, but my mind had failed to imagine the beauty and splendor that goes with such a climate. The native biota all exhibit a simultaneous mix of fragility and resilience, which is surely the result of adapting to such a harsh environment. With my reliance on sunscreen and water from gas stations, it's quite clear to me that I embody the fragility more than resilience.

The teeming waters of Badger Creek

I took highway 58 out of Eugene, and after crossing Willamette Pass, detoured to the Cascade Lakes Scenic Byway, which meanders by a dozen lakelets surrounding Mt Bachelor and the Sisters on its way to Bend. From Bend to Boise, I've pretty much stayed on Highway 26, detouring as I saw fit. It's stunning how quickly the climate can change from mountaintop to mountaintop, from dense, derby forest to semi-arid lodgepoles groves, to super-arid hills of sage brush, with not a tree in sight. About 20,000 square miles (I'm not making that number up) of eastern Oregon is currently recognized as one of the most well-preserved and abundant archeological sites in the world, and it's not hard to see why; the rugged landscape sports layer upon layer of exposed stratification, to be read like an open book for those who speak the language (I am certainly not one of these studied few). The John Day fossil beds exemplify this treasure trove, and absolutely should not be missed if you ever have the chance to see them.

Just me, my bike and the Painted Hills

I have already been blown away by the generosity of people. In just a week's travel, I've stayed with two separate households of people, managed to find three showers (all much-needed), and have met a dozen wonderful people in between. A man flagged me down by the side of the road as I was passing his mailbox with the words, "You can stay at our place! We're not ax murderers!" Walt and his wife Pat stuffed me full of pot stickers, beer and homemade kim chi before letting me relax in their hot tub, and even built a fire. By the end of the evening, it would've been okay with me if they turned out to be ax murderers after all.

There've also been several other cyclists headed in the other direction, which I often end up camping with at night. I met a fellow from Scotland named Andrew, a self-described bionic wanderer, determined to ride his bike and trailer across Canada in the middle of winter, powered by skateboard decks, wire and duct tape. I laugh easily at the idea, but after spending an evening with him, I can't help but feel that he'll actually figure out a way to pull it off. Look out, Eugene and Seattle, I think he's headed your way first; I'm not sure either town is big enough to contain him.

Enough for now, I need to start thinking about finding a place to stay for the night. Tomorrow I start the stretch across Idaho, and then into the Tetons and Yosemite. I have pictures that I'll put up here when I can, but I need to find an actual computer for that, and sadly, every library in the world seems to be closed on Sundays.

Aptly named Picture Valley, leading into John Day

Oh yeah. Yes, it's been about a million degrees every single day. I think I sunburned my eyeballs; one of the downsides to dumpstering sunglasses is, hella dank pieces of bling that they may be, I have no idea If they have any UV protection. Thank you random hardware store for providing me with a new $4 pair that are about one third as cool as my previous ones.