Day 8
Mitchell, OR to Prairie City, OR
Distance: 84 miles
Liquid Consumed: 7 bottles (3.5 litres) –
probably still not enough
Another 5.30am alarm, and I couldn’t be
happier! I woke sans headache, and was raring to go as I started my ride,
climbing consistently from the hotel in Mitchell up to the Keyes Creek Pass
Summit at 4,369ft. My legs were fresh as daisies, and I was at the top in a
little over an hour, which surprised even me.
Coasting downhill for the next 30 miles or
so, I was fantasizing about stopping at the café in the little town of Dayville
for a slap up breakfast definitely involving eggs, bacon and strong black
coffee. But sadly it was not to be. “Closed Monday” seems to be theme around
here (of which more below), but luckily some
cyclists traveling in the opposite direction to me who were also staying at my
hotel told me they had eaten the day before at the gas station just a bit further down
the road. The lovely lady there made me a grilled ham and cheese, and a latte,
and I was a happy girl indeed.
With 40 miles under my belt by 10.30am, and
the effects of the coffee and sandwich evident in my tummy hanging over the top
of it, I was feeling pretty chipper. Until I noticed that the Gamine had
registered a temperature of 94F, already, at 10.30am!!!
I swung my full stomach in the direction of
the road and set off again with a calm exterior but a slight sense of dread at the
possible levels of heat that might be heading my way. And just as I was
contemplating that, I noticed a large nest by the side of the road belonging to
some birds of prey…
It was enough to keep my mind off the
escalating heat all the way to Mount Vernon, the next town on the route with…
an open café. I hung out in the
air-conditioned loveliness for half an hour or so while I snarfed down a salad
and a litre jug of lemonade, plus extra to top up the water bottles. I refused
to look at the temperature again on the Gamine when I came out and simply
pedaled off in the direction of a town called John Day.
John Day is a big deal around here. He has
two towns named after him (John Day and Daysville), the John Day River, and the
John Day Fossil Beds, to name but a few things. And to think that with just two
letters different, he could have been your average John Doe.
According to Wikipedia, he was an intrepid
explorer and hunter from the 1800s, who was born in Virginia, and came West
through Kentucky and Missouri and up into Oregon, where he was robbed and
stripped naked by Native Americans by the banks of the River that now bears his
name. Sounds a bit like the TransAmerica route in reverse, just hopefully
without the robbery and stripping etc.
He also apparently went mad in the end,
which I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find happening to me on this trip. I
was already making up jokes to myself half the day, inspired by things I saw,
and chuckling away at them (I am my own best audience). Not to let the rest of
you off that easy:
Picture: loads of large black birds dancing together on an underlit floor - Murder on the Dancefloor
Q: Why did the chipmunk cross the road with
a pre-glued envelope stuck between his teeth?
A: Because the road was chip and seal.
and
Q: Why did the monk cross the road?
A: He doesn’t really know, he just got into
the habit.
I didn’t see a monk, but I thought this one
was funnier… hmmmmm.
And so I rolled into Prairie City ready for
a good rest, a dose of sanity and some more food. Only to find that every
single restaurant in the town is closed on Mondays. Luckily, Julie, the
manageress of my fabulous hotel (the Historic Hotel Prairie) made me a Panini
and salad, which I washed down with a couple of glasses of local vino… when in
Prairie City.
Finally, Happy Birthday to my amazing
sister Susie for tomorrow – the best sister ever.
Me x
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