Day 2, Neskowin- 45 miles,

There was an old saying during my narcotics enforcement days.It held that the best operational outline for any given game plan usually lasted about five minutes into implementation before things changed. The same thing could be said for cycling adventures.

I woke this morning to the sound of rain and some wind. It didn't even wait for me to get up. I had a planned  61 mile ride up to Rose Lodge in the Salmon River gorge where I  would pitch my expensive REI tent with all its necessary expensive accouterments at a campsite and sleep blissfully along the river in a quiet sexy little spot. However, My host Mark informed me that the storm was scheduled to worsen as the day progressed and it may be better to stay put and wait it out. Additionally, the national weather service issues gale force wind warnings along the coastal regions. Hummmmm

Well I didn't bring this Gortex and neoprene armament for nothing and I figured I could at least make some headway in spite of the weather and  lesson the damage of losing an entire day, So I suited up and rolled out. Within thirty seconds I couldn't see through my sunglasses. I removed and stowed them only to realize this southerly 20 MPH morning wind was blowing the rain  right into my eyes, causing them to squint and close every few seconds. Not good if you are inclined to want to see where you are going.

Overlook south of Prairie City

 I played "squirrel!" for the next two hours, darting my head left and right to clear my eyes enough to see the road. The rain let up later in the morning and I took the opportunity to make a little progress. I drizzled into the coastal resort town of Prairie City for a late morning break and sent out an app update.This must have somehow angered the Gods of rain and wind because shortly after,  I was back on the road being tossed around like a weeble and the rain took on a weaponized role, blasting my face head on too the point where I could hardly ride at all, not to mention that water was starting to get into "places". I Rooster tailed my way into a small nook of a resort called Neskowin to have lunch at their small cafe and figure out what my next move would be. I watched the rain and wind increase over the next thirty minutes, at which time common sense leaked its way into my thought process and my next move became a trip to the lobby of a run down, cheap hotel. My only option. I have a tube TV with a built in VCR.

I got some laundry going and went back to the cafe for dinner. A nice pale ale tasted so good I thought about crying for a minute. A older man who entered the cafe heard about the stranded crazy bike rider and asked if I may be that guy. I confessed and he sat down at my table and introduced himself as Seth. After pleasantries he offered me valuable advice about my route inland the following day and with the current weather forecast, the presence of unpredictable thunderheads that develop along the route leading to Gran Ronde. Since the owner of the cafe was his brother, I received a another pale ale on the house and wolfed down a plate of pasta. Seth wondered out loud if he might drive around and check on me tomorrow. I assured him that was a nice thought but unnecessary. I got the distinct impression that I was not a part of his decision making process. I'll be looking for Seth tomorrow.

I made about 45 miles today. About 15 short of my planed destination but stopping was the right call.  There is a lot in front of me so I can alter my plan when needed and sing Que Sera Sera!

Forecast calls for the same weather tomorrow.