Day 9: Astoria - Oswald West State Park, 64km

Today we had been promised good weather, but as we awoke from our slumber to enjoy good chat over breakfast with Pam and David our hosts, the grey skis outside just did not look appealing. Of course we can't be known as fair weather cyclists, so after a quick Internet visit we finally used our ten cups of coffee to fuel us along our way.

Almost with heavy hearts we left Astoria with our first stint along Highway 101 and over yet another exposed bridge. As we pedalled over, lost to the roar of the wind and traffic I found myself singing Bon Jovi - 'Wo, we're half way there, wo-oh, livin' on a prayer, take my hand and we'll make it I swear' - I think this was my subconscious screaming loud and clear.

With a few detours, our day was spent entirely on hwy 101, through Glenwood and Gearhart. At Seaside we turned off and caught our first glimpses of a glorious beach. The best thing was there was far better to come. I was just so excited to finally see the Pacific Ocean.

Leaving Seaside, heading for high ground and leaving behind the ominous Tsunami Evacuation route signs (which don't always seem to point to high ground), we circled Ecola State Park. Having got over it's similarity in spelling to a dangerous bacteria, I was in childish awe that it was the location for many a scene in the Goonies, including the cafe and sea stacks. The reality was a stunning landscape - in all it's wind swept glory.

We pulled off 101 into Cannon Beach where we refuelled on clam chowder and turkey sandwiches. To our great delight when we left our little organic cafe the grey skies had disappeared to leave us bathed in glorious sunshine.

Back on 101, I could not stop saying wow with every corner we turned. The spectacular views just kept coming - and they dulled the pain of the climbs into insignificance. Through Arch Cape we entered our first tunnel. With the lonely planets guide in mind:

'the deafening noise traffic makes inside is alarming'

we pressed the cyclist warning button activating flashing lights to warn vehicles of our presence, and cycled in. Out the other side, and still with the same level of hearing (i.e. Tim still only detecting the spoken word in pitches above and below mine) we ploughed up a 2 mile climb. Our reward was the amazing setting of Oswald West State Park in a pretty wooded area. Walking down from the road, we snaked through shafts of sunlight as they broke through the trees.

400 m or so along the drop, we came across a small labyrinth of 30 or so camp pitches. With two to chose from we went for the one by the toilets, shunning the post next to a group of hippies attempting to light a fire with two sticks and some string - interesting though they may have been there is only so much two Londoners can cope with and sleeping to cum-by-ya was not one of them.
Tent pitched we hiked down to a stunning cove, scattered with bonfires and surfers. With our first tent sleep looming we made a feast of pasta reminiscent of student times and swilled down big mugs of brew. The guys next to us returned and as we looked on in envy, lit a fire! As they engulfed us with smoke the catalyst was set and they invited us round their camp fire, and fuelled us with beer.