The Tuesday after we got back from the ride was just a day to cool off, have lunch with a few friends from Portland and start getting things ready to head back to Louisville.
The bike case I had rented had a problem with one of the straps. The strap was torn almost all the way through, so bought some 20lb test fishing line and sewed it back together.
Tuesday night we had a little get together with some of my other friends in Portland. We ordered pizza from Rocco’s, which is still my favorite pizza place in the entire world, and had a general good time as I retold the stories from the ride, and we all told stories from growing up, and shared where we were now in our lives.
I had rented a truck Monday night so that I could get myself around town on Tuesday, and get myself to the airport on Wednesday. When I got to the airport I was once again NOT charged to transporting my bike, which was very nice.
I had gotten to the airport early again in case there were any hassles, and once again had a good chunk of time to kill. I stopped in at the red carpet room and started writing this tome. About 40 minutes before departure I went down to the gate to see if I could get a better seat assignment. As I was walking out of the red carpet room the lady at the gate started announcing that the flight was overbooked and would anyone volunteer to take a later flight, if you did you would be guaranteed a seat on the next flight, and would get a free travel voucher. Just as she stopped talking I was standing at the gate and said “I volunteer!”
After most of the plane was loaded they called me up and said that they would not need to send me on a later flight, but, that they did need my seat in coach and were moving me up to first class (oh darn!!)
So, I sat in first class, eating real food, working on this story, watching “The Italian Job” and generally enjoying myself. When the plane started to descend 3.5 hours later I was sad that it had to end.
Once I hit ORD it was just like any of the other hundreds of times I have been through that airport and I knew that vacation was over. As I was cycling into Brookings I was ready for it to be over. Three days later I realized that a week and a half was not enough time, and I wished then that I could have just kept going south.
Oh well, all good things must come to and end, and that is where we are with this story. Thanks for spending a few valuable moments of your life in sharing this story with me, and keep an eye out for next years adventures, which there is some discussion might be a ride of the Washington coast.