Shelton to Oregon

After a good night's sleep in Shelton and so many easy days, I expected to be full of energy the following day. But for some reason, I couldn't get in a good rhythm. By the end of the day, my stomach was feeling a bit queasy, and I was glad to pull into camp after about 100 km.

I had read that there were "hiker-biker sites" for people camping without a car that were cheaper than other campsites, but when I arrived the only one I saw was full. I cruised around the campground looking for more. In fact, nearly every site was full, hiker-biker or otherwise. As I neared the end of my tour of the campground, somebody yelled from behind a camper, "Is it full?" I stopped and looked over. Two women were sitting by a campfire drinking wine, and I explained, "I'm just looking for a hiker-biker site."

"Well there's space here, if you can't find a site...we're not going to use the tent site."

"Thanks a lot I," I said, "I'll keep looking, but maybe I'll come back." I kept riding around the campsite. There were some empty car sites, but they were expensive. And some company at a campfire would be much appreciated. I rode back to the two women. "You sure there's space for me?"

The two women treated me to a feast that night! Stir fry with steak and vegetables, and I got to enjoy their stories over previous motorbike and RV trips all over Canada and the US. As I ate, my stomach became more uncomfortable, but I didn't want to turn down such good food! I enjoyed the company that evening, but had to turn in early on account of my stomach.

I didn't sleep much that night due to nausea and diarrhea, and was beginning to worry that I had contracted Giardia somewhere along the way. Fortunately, I was feeling moderately better in the morning, and made a short day down to Seaquest State Park near Castle Rock, before feeling ill again. I lay out my sleeping bag on top of my tent (without pitching the tent) and took a three hour nap. When I woke up, I was relieved to find myself feeling much better. I went for a little jog down to a boardwalk and got a beautiful view of Mt. St. Helens, then went back to camp, ate some spaghetti and fell asleep again.

Miraculously, I was essentially recovered by the next day. I rode about 100 km without any trouble, catching a ferry across the Columbia River into Oregon and making next to a pretty brook in a 'primitive campground' with just three sites. I appreciated the Adventure Cycling maps that recommended this route as I sat on the ferry rather than fighting my way across the notoriously dangerous bridge into Astoria. I ate dinner early and was just settling in to read in the shade for a few hours before hitting the hay when a retired couple invited me over to their camp for a beer. Once again, I was welcomed with warm hospitality and good food (brats, in this case) at another's campground. We sat up for a couple hours listening to each others' stories before turning in for the night.