Lincoln City

When the day began I could see nothing but the clearcuts on the side of the forest.  It was raining again, and we caught the bus to Tillamook outside the Manzanita News and Espresso.  The Korean war vetran said something had "gone wrong up there" and pointed to his head.  We traveled along the bay in the mid-morning gloom and I tried not to think about the bikes teetering on the front end rack.  Brit was more calm than I was, but just as restless.  We didn't stop for the cheese factory but instead at the Fred Meyer in search of a way to upload our photos.  Tilamook was gloomy and full of potholes.  The men huddled under taco trucks in overalls and calf-high boots, eyes downcast from underneath baseball caps.  Brit got us a sandwhich at Safeway and I dropped the front end of her bike on the rack.  The weight from the saddlebags brought the entire bike crashing to the ground, and did something to her front tire.  I didn't want to tell her at first, but I couldn't even push it without the tire catching on the brake pads.  We both tried to play mechanic, and rushed to get on the next bus heading South.  When we got off in Pacific City the tire was worse.  I tried to coax her down the road, but we had to stop after a half mile.  I pouted and said there was no choice but to hitch a ride.  After several  attempts at thumbing down large bed trucks Brit's strong will took control.  "Let's just do it," she said.  "Just loosen the brake pads so I have no front brakes, we'll climb the hill, then you can crank down on them for the ascent."  When she talks like that I have no option to agree; its an admiration thing.  Up the cape we went.  A 2.7 mile climb just outside of Pacific City into Lincoln City.  Brit couldn't even keep a straight line, the tire was so cock-eyed and it was still raining.  About a mile into the uphill, the road split into two lanes, that's when i knew it was going to be bad.  I heard the truckers and other big rigs shifting gears right along with us, switchbacking every hundred yards.  We stopped at a milespost sign for water and there was a small creek running down and crows calling within the forest.  We pressed on.  The rain had flooded the grates and gutters and came cascading a foot wide into the shoulder.  Finally, the two lanes merged into one and we had reached the summit.  I told Brit I loved her, tightened her brakes and we made the Lincoln City KOA.  The rain had cleared and I realized we made 60+ miles south on a bum tire.  I looked to the side of the road on the way in; there were daffodils blooming in front of a construction site.