We're ok. Just lazy.

(Thomas)

First and foremost.... Apologies for taking so long to close our adventure online. Believe it or not sitting down to discuss the day with myself and... well, the computer just didn't seem like a necessary chore. But, alas! We made it. Successful in our adventure from Virginia to Oregon. Which, by the way, we actually went through 12 states (now including Washington - our blog said 11.. oops). Second order of business... Saying our thanks to the many family members and friends that gave us some financial support - sending us away with a thicker wallet was very kind. However cheesy it may sound, it helped us accomplish a big dream of ours. Thank you, very much.

Now! back to the remaining days. In our time between Missoula, MT and Portland, OR, we met up with yet more awesome and adventurous people, cycled down roads twisting through the mountains of Idaho, sharing our lives together in the comfort of shade provided by high valley walls, swam underneath waterfalls in Oregon, experienced the horrors of ruined tires 20 miles outside the nearest city with limited water in the blistering Washington heat (better believe it was over 100), and always, always laughing - our favorite past time. Our group was now of 5 members. Natalie from Oregon, Stefan from Delaware, David from Georgia, and us, the Kansans. A dynamic quintet that, outside of bicycling to the coast, spend there days swimming in rivers, throwing rocks at trains, hosting competitions to bust empty, discarded beer bottles, and posing on the side of the road to give joy to some lonely truckers. Life on the road got better from the moment we met up with these other cyclists. The destination became less important and enjoying the now took precedence. After all, we are a pack oriented species. It just worked. 

It seems odd to me to think about how different the trip was in the beginning for us. An excited attempt to do something "amazing" and even more excited to get the miles under our tires. With miles remaining it seemed like just another day - bicycling was natural (Now that i have gotten off the bike for a couple consecutive weeks and picked up running again i have pain in my hips... just an foreign movement. The adjustment to running came quickly though, no worries my mother followers). It also occurred to me that with this adventure under my belt, accompanying my reading of a biography of the famous Argentine, Ernesto "Che" Guevara, that there is little to do when you stay stationary. Now, when i say this i don't mean constantly shipping yourself from country to country, although that would be fun, but to simply move. Get out and move your body. Dancing, bicycling, running, climbing, rock throwing... all great activities (unless you're in a greenhouse, don't throw rocks in there). And! if you can, do it somewhere you have never been before. Take your bike to NY and say screw taking a taxi. It's expensive and it sucks. Plus you can't get a better view compared to that of when your ass is planted firmly on a stiff bicycle seat ;). While in Oregon I saw a quote in one of the many farmers markets that said, "Once a year, go somewhere you have never been before." Now, I don't know about you, but i appreciate that quote. It doesn't say "go to Europe" or "climb Everest" or "take a family trip to Yellowstone", no... its message is clear and affordable. Go somewhere different (could be your neighbors backyard?). 

The longer on the road the more I was reminded that there are people doing amazing, loving, and crazy things in every part of the country. It would seem that traveling and doing just makes you wish you could do it more often. Maybe not always by bicycle, but hey, whatever. Just get out there. :)

Not wanting Stephen to leave.

Safe and sound in Portland! The Quintet smiles at their shared accomplishment in front of Natalie's house. Red: Daniel; Blue: Stephen; Yellow: Thomas; White: David; Green: Natalie.

(Daniel)

Alright, so the play by play, plus some of our favorite pictures from the final weeks of the trip:

As Thomas said, much of the last 1000 miles of our adventure were spent with the three amazing people featured above: Natalie, David, and Stephen. From West Yellowstone, we headed out over the final trans-continental segment of our journey that joined us officially with the Lewis and Clark trail (on which we would stay until the end of our journey) and which left us with some gorgeous views of the Montana frontier and mountainous terrain:

On top of Big Hole/Gibbons pass, we met two other brothers named Reid and Ethan who were willing to partner up and ride together for awhile. After our first days riding and a night at a hot springs mountain camp (and delightfully warm, sulphuric bathing), we made up our minds to get to Missoula, MT in one day: a daunting 144 mile feat that would prove just how far we'd come over the past few months in terms of biking stamina, and which unfortunately left me wounded with a strained achilles tendon after my bicycle pedal gave out a second time. The injury forced us to stay an extra day in Missoula, during which time Thomas ordered his plane ticket for the return trip. The decision to buy the ticket so early (700 miles away from our destination of Portland) sort of set in stone the general theme of the remainder of our quest: fast-paced, stressful biking with a preference for distance over environmental enjoyment. Fortunately for us, our partnership with Stefan (and later the surprise reunion with David and Natalie after our initial separation) made that final 700 a much more enjoyable experience, due to the camaraderie shared on the bicycles amongst the gang.

Forming a Pelaton to escape the burden of headwind.

Of course traveling in a group meant much more-frequent stops than otherwise, and these nuisances weren't mitigated by the fact that, in our final quarter of the voyage, many of our weathered bike-components had begun to finally break down. Flat tubes and shredded tires became a norm--and patience a virtue.

The quick 100 miles or so of river riding through the neck of Idaho along hwy 12 was one of the most beautiful segments of our trip: 

And as we zoomed along and kept our average daily mileage at record highs, we re-acquainted ourselves with the splendor of Couchsurfing. Montana, Washington and Oregon proved to be enormously hospitable locals for finding last minute-couches to crash on. Our favorite night was our stay with the exceedingly generous and hilarious Jerry, in Clarkston, WA:

We assumed a more welcome home-stay by bearing gifts upon arrival. :)

Late night chatting with our host, Jerry.

After Jerry's, Natalie and David took a detour to go work on an Organic farm, which left Stefan, Thomas and me to carry out the next 200 miles through the southeastern tip of Washington alone. This was singlehandedly the most discomfort I had experienced the entire trip, for while the heat and winds rivaled (and often exceeded) Kansas, the steady up-down gradient of the land proved an added obstacle for our psyches. More than once I had to stop and breathe deep breaths in attempt to de-tox from the mounting anger caused by the strongest headwinds we had yet experienced and the long, arid hills reminding me of all the reasons I hated bicycling. Finally though, we made it: Oregon had come at last!

Almost upon arrival into Oregon, we had a brief detour back up into Washington as we rode along the Colombia River, before we finally crossed back over at The Dalles into our beloved state of Oregon. Just before then, however, we were surprise-ambushed by our friends David and Natalie, who had hitchhiked to come and rejoin our clan of misfits. 

And, because Natalie was a resident of the Beaver State, she was able to steer us toward the most enjoyable pitstops as we made our final descent into the greatly anticipated city of Portland.

One of these stops was in a gorgeous ravine which had been chiseled through time by a cascading river and which hid, nestled a mile back and accessible only to hikers willing to get drenched in frigid mountain water, a breathtaking waterfall. We spent a few hours admiring the gully's beauty and basking in the cold, refreshing water.

In a landslide a few years back, gigantic logs of timber had been washed and lodged into the ravine, posing an entertaining obstacle to our side journey.

Stefan's modeling his Yogurt-Commercial Shot. Don't tell me you don't want a bite.

Finally, after much anticipation, we made it to Oregon. And although Thomas had to fly out, I decided with Stefan that we would take one additional day to ride the final 115 miles to see the coast. The day was grueling, and left me with knee pain that has yet to completely dissipate, but the payoff was indescribable. We had made it. It was over. And, to repeat what I wrote on my Facebook in my moment of triumph: 

After 67 days, 12 states, 4200 miles, multiple awesome experiences and even a couple breakdowns--its time to pack this little bicycle up and ship it back. The adventure is finally over. Some have asked me how one defines success on a venture like this. To them I say, "You know what, im not sure I can answer that... Could you be more Pacific?" 

...This salty water's never smelled so sweet.

(fin)