There are facets of the city which feel familiar to other hip and thriving "young" urban areas.  The abundance of murals and public art lends a vibrancy to the otherwise drab environment.  Architectural styles vary wildly depending on the part of town and age of structures. The biodiversity in even a neighborhood is truly stunning.  The wet weather and fertile soils allows for abundant variety, the Hoyt Arboretum cataloguing at least 6000 different species of plant.  I always have a way of finding natural places in urban spaces as if a magnetic field pulls me from the concrete, glass and steel toward something I feel is more real.  It has been a good visit and welcome break from the daily camping but I'm feeling ready to put on the final miles of the trip. Next stop: Bay Center.

It was quite an enjoyable trip heading up 395 toward the Oregon line. Although I was only travelling in California for three or four days, it felt like I had abruptly transitioned from the summer heat of 96 in death valley, up to freezing temperatures at 6000-8000 ft. Regardless of numb fingers and toes, the beauty of my surroundings captivated my attention and propelled me further northward.

The route through central Oregon kept me east of the Sierra Nevada's and Cascade ranges where wind and rain continued to pelt the locale. East of the mountains, the dark and dense clouds raced past on the southerly wind but rarely dropped rain. It was significantly cooler so any break of sunshine in the day would find me drying gear on a beach or just stopped in the lee of a bush to warm my bones in the sun.

Each day I rode about 200-250 miles and interested myself in the variety of geologic processes at work in this busy and complicated region. When the clouds cleared, I was treated to spectacular views of the former volcanoes of the Cascade Range. The snow covered Mt. Bachelor and Mt. Hood were navigational landmarka on my ride and kept appearing over a hill or copse of pines.

Nearing the coast, I took a turn toward Portland by way of the Sands River and descended toward the sprawl of the city. I have a couple wonderful and hospitable friends in town who looked the other way at my rugged and filthy likeness. A shower awaits!

I was unprepared for the breathtaking views on US395 east of the Sierra's. It looked like a lower elevation route to travel north but what I didn't realize was the towering mountains, some over 12000 ft, were mere miles from my vantage at 3000ft above sea level. The weather was cooler here and a southerly tailwind helped propel me up some otherwise challenging hills. It also gave me 120-140mpg at the fuel pump!

There were many lakes along the way and more dry lake beds, areas where drilling, drought and irrigation projects have combined to turn valuable lakes into dustbowls. I wanted to stop at every overlook and turn to absorb the landscape.

Camping not far from Mammoth Lakes at over 7000ft, I was quite surprised by the ferocity and suddenness of wind gusts overnight. Rain turned to sleet as the wind howled and cracked the leafless aspens above. Water dribbled into the tent and I had to secure my hammock tarp to make up for it. Rain and sleet up to 8160 ft in the morning and then a clearing afternoon with stupendous vista's and fall colors. I wound up passing Reno then onward up toward Doyle where some BLM land offered free camping. The wind was severe when stopped and I knew camping in the open would be miserable. Just then, a town park and recreational bathroom complex appeared on the left. The sun set and I tucked the bike away behind the building and slept inside. Overnight the wind ripped at loose metal on the building and signs outside let out a twang in the 45mph gusts. I was happy to have been indoors after a whole day of riding in the wind.

Today, now finally up to date, it hasn't reached over 50 and the wind is howling 25-30 from the south. It's good when I'm moving but stopping is a cool pain without much for shelter. In a section of "No Services for 70 Miles" I stopped in to a closed grocery store for a coffee and break from the wind. The red bandana tied to the neck of the mounted deer head caught my attention.