The biking trip down the Pacific Coast Highway was a grand adventure, beautiful and memorable beyond words. Could this really be happening to me?
Celebrating our country's 200th Birthday with this summer-time adventure was a reality soon approaching. We were three young friends, and the excitement and unknown helped keep our eyes and hearts open. With the Bicentennial celebration in Philadelphia, you could feel the energy mounting. Of course, we had our excitement mounting.
I felt very focused and confident at that time in my life. It was June 24, 1976, and I was ready for the flight from Philadelphia to Portland, Oregon. My summer bike trip adventure was about to begin. The evening before, on June 23, an Allegheny Airlines flight approaching its landing in Philadelphia encountered severe wind shears and crashed landed on the runway. There were 106 occupants on board. Eighty-six were injured, and thankfully, there were no fatalities. When I arrived at the terminal, there were many local news reporters. I didn't know at the time they were reporting about the plane crash. Once I got to my gate, I could see the wreckage. It was my first time seeing the aftermath of a plane crash. I learned from that scene on the runway how quickly life can change. I worked with someone who had a daughter in that plane crash, and she sustained back injuries. Luckily, everyone survived, but I believe something in their lives changed.
Now, it was my turn to board my flight with my eyes wide open. That day, I learned and accepted that life can change quickly. Sometimes we get another chance, and other days we don't. That vision of the broken plane was one that, to this day, is a reminder. Little did I know I would experience many more reminders. I learned that I will gain more wisdom if I survive adversity. I was on my way to join two friends in Portland. After the thoughtful planning of this trip and my plans, I was ready for real-life experiences.
Finally, I was westbound for Portland. I typically get excited about traveling once I am nearly there. During the flight, I reflected on the plane crash back in Philadelphia and the summer ahead of me. It was all an adventure, and I was glad to be on my way. I thought about meeting my two friends and seeing my new bike for the first time—the flying hours went by quickly. We were ready to land soon, and more of my adventures were becoming a reality. As I entered the terminal, I met my friends. It had been ten months since we had seen each other, yet there were changes in all of us. Subtle changes day by day are not very noticeable. Still, given a more extended time away, we change, which is quite apparent. That change was not only outward but inside, too. We were more mature and had already weathered some of life in the making. We settled in, caught up, and continued planning our bike trip.
The summer of 1976 was arid along the west coast, and there was a severe drought. We embarked on our first day and made it to the Oregon Coast. We needed to take secondary roads. That was a challenge but necessary. We couldn't ride on interstate highways by law. I remember seeing the Pacific Ocean for the first time. It was a great feeling of accomplishment that first day of riding. We planned to camp out along the way. We pulled off, set up camp wherever it looked safe, and pitched our tents. The coastline was rugged in spots, and cliffs plunged into the ocean with fierce waves pummeling their base. The road could be steep, and my legs burned with pain, unaccustomed to the long uphill climbs. Coasting down the other side was exhilarating, the wind blowing through my hair. Each hill climb was an accomplishment. I felt free.
California was in an extreme drought, and once we crossed the state line, we got rid of our tents to save on weight. There was no chance of rain, so we slept under the stars. There is something about the freedom of bike riding, being able to sleep each night outdoors, and the demand to ride at least 50 miles a day. It was an era I mentioned in the beginning when many folks were bike riding down the West Coast. Some were riding from Canada down into Mexico. So many people were full of adventure. Our bike trip was to last six weeks. We planned to ride down to San Diego, east into Phoenix, Arizona, up through Las Vegas, north through Yosemite, California, and then back to Portland, Oregon.
The Pacific Coast Highway was beautiful and scenic, sometimes cold during the day as the winds blew off the ocean. Our senses experienced the sites around us; the smell of the sea and the redwood forest aroma were all things I had never known about less envisioned. We camped in a hollowed-out redwood tree. We experienced nature at its finest.
The trip was surprisingly educational, too. Our friend, who attended the university in the Twin Cities for architecture, was passionate about building design. We learned to appreciate architectural design as we traveled through cities such as San Francisco, San Diego, and Los Angeles. That appreciation for building design and the story the architect is trying to convey with the building has stayed with me to this day.
We stopped at Arcosanti, an experimental town in Arizona. In 1976, this project of combining architecture and ecology was approximately 10% completed. Building a community that would impact the environment less was an exciting and new concept back then. It was one of many visits during the bike trip that was inspirational and educational. In our travels, we connected with a variety of people. The folks we met along the way were genuinely interested in our trip. My knowledge and understanding of people widened and deepened.
Some days riding, it was unbearably hot. We had only a tiny amount of money to live on each day. It was challenging and humbling. When we arrived in Las Vegas, it was 120 degrees! I remember getting a hotel room at a budget motel, a major treat for us. Our one-night stay was USD 12.00 and worth every penny to us! The pleasure of a hot shower, air conditioning, and sleeping indoors was a welcome relief.
Our day visit to Yosemite National Park in northern California was quite memorable. Most of the waterfalls were dry because of the drought, but it still seemed like a magical place to me. I remember finding a huge boulder, and I slept on it. There were small ways along our trip that allowed us to connect with nature and be a part of something larger than ourselves. There was a particular spiritual connection for me that, to this day, I can't quite comprehend. To be in the present at any given place we rode through or camped in was unique and yet something I could take with me permanently. Nature and the world's energy kept us going. We were soon to arrive back in Portland, Oregon. It was the latter part of August, and the second leg of our journey was next. We were quickly to be eastbound after our bike trip and adventure.
Tom is a retired nurse, volunteer, and lifelong learner living his best life in Montana (USA).
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Next week. A new chapter in this month's series, My Summer Bike Trip.
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