Through the gate of gold.

Portland to San Francisco; we've reached another significant monument in this adventure. The distance we've travelled, the weather we've pushed through, and the savvy we've obtained are all impressive, but mere steps towards what we hope to accomplish. San Francisco is also the point at which we turned east towards Sacramento, Tahoe, and the Southwest. The climate and scenery along the west coast is beautiful, but in the context of this huge nation, fairly similar. In our next leg, we will travel through the deserts and canyons of the Southwest on our way to the Gulf of Mexico, the Mississippi, and Appalachia.

Our stay in San Francisco was eventful; we caught a Giants game, had chowder in bread bowls, and walked around much of the city including Golden Gate Park, Chinatown, and the wharf. The city itself is beautiful and authentic; the neighborhoods are filled with the famous San Franciscan row houses; street cars, muni cars, and buses buzz along on their electric wires; native and transplanted residents go about their unique existences within the Mission, Castro, and the Haight. From a vantage point, the collective size of the Bay Area is astonishing. Looking across the bay towards Oakland, civilization ceases to end, much like the scale of Seoul.

It's difficult to make a judgement based on five days of observation, but it seems as though San Francisco has an aged culture of liberalism and individuality. The residents have more or less accepted each shape and color as ingrained facets of the collective culture. It seems to me, this is a tendency of big city life. In Seoul--and South Korea in general--people are more apt to fit in than stand out as individuals. In Portland, the exact opposite tendency is present; many people seek any means available to be unique. San Francisco seems to be in between. Those seeking individuality are encouraged, as well as those comfortable fitting in.

Portland, Seoul, San Francisco; I now love three, how many more when this is over?

El Pacifico caliente.

Heading south from Eureka, the route turns inland to explore the massive redwoods. Once beyond the legendary Avenue of the Giants, the scenic route leads back onto highway 101 for the finale: Richardson's Grove. The morning we awoke in Richardson's Grove State Park to once again pack our wet tents and ride on, the sun simultaneously broke through as we departed; the foreshadowing of a great day to come. After a slog up and over the 1,750 foot pass, we took the opportunity to eliminate some tent mildew in a sunny spot along with lunch.

When we last saw the ocean on highway 101, it was a grey and cold experience. Arriving at the shore on highway 1, we reached some of the world famous California coast lines. The bright sunshine and beautiful surf were present for two of our three days riding the historic highway. Due to the popularity of this scenic route, even the early spring brings a high volume of automobiles to this narrow stretch of road. Combining the speedy motorized traffic with our slower bicycle traffic proved tense in a few sections. The bicycles move slowly up the inclines, and are often difficult to pass due to the blind corners and lack of a shoulder. Although this temporarily slows the motorists, everyone uses this road for primarily the same reason: to sight see. As we rode along the beautiful scenery, doing just that, we couldn't help but wonder, why the rush?

Photosynthesis: one part sun, ten parts water.

Did I say sunny California? The truth is, all these redwoods need a lot of water, which happens to come often in the springtime. Luckily we have the outlook of the dry and hot southwest desert to keep us motivated. By the time we hit New Mexico, we'll probably be doing rain dances.

Over the last few days we have been cruising through redwood country. The trees which make up this enormous organism are epic in girth and height. Today we rode down the Avenue of the Giants. It is a beautiful road, and I sincerely suggest riding, walking, or driving through. The road is being absorbed by the massive trees lining it, and this fight between human and nature creates a beautifully secluded alley. It's great that someone saw the intrinsic value of these trees and has successfully protected them. Without such stewardship, we could only hear about the great redwood sequoias that use to thrive.

Golden.

Ahhh, sunny California. After a total of nine days pedaling and one day resting, we have successfully crossed our first state line. I do love Oregon, but it is time to say goodbye to the beaver state for now, and explore more of the great union which comprises the US of A. As a result of our small accomplishment, I find myself excited for a variety of reasons; I have the freedom and resources to attempt this feat, I am attempting this feat, and whatever the result, I will know more tomorrow than I did yesterday and do today.

Since our departure, we have spent a quarter of the time in the rain, I have spent half the time cold, we have ridin an accumulative 450 miles, patronized two restaurants, broke down and stayed in one very cheap motel, and have countless more countables. In summary, it has been a great experience for us thus far, and we can only assume more and better is on the horizon.

Reflections from a week on the road.

In anticipating this trip, it was hard to fully comprehend all the details of a life on the road. Where to sleep, what to eat, how many miles to ride; basically, how to sustain a demanding and challenging lifestyle such as this for an extended period of time. After successfully living through a week on the road, many of the same questions remain, but have also been answered. These questions mostly still remain day to day, but the discomfort of the uncertainties has diminished through experience. Also, a new variable has introduced itself; the true enormity of this country from the perspective of a human powered vessel. It's feasible to ride, eat, sleep for numberless days, but how much can one really take? Some individuals can withstand multiple years, only time will tell what Kane, Dan, and myself can tolerate.

Two days of fun in the sun.

Riding through the central Oregon coast has been a small tour into some Ken Kesey settings. Depot Bay, Darlingtonias, Newport, Wakonda, and more. Day by day, we're realizing how our lives fit into four bags and some rack space. The first two days forced us to scramble our shelters together and keep everything as dry as possible. Now that we've had two days sans precipitation, the tailoring of organization has been a popular theme. Deciding what is used often, with what other items, and where is a practice of simplistic thinking and personalization. In the end, this process allows a seemless transition of a scenic rest spot into a temporary kitchen with a view. This lifestyle may be simpler in some regards, but it consists of all the necessities; eat, sleep, live.

Cool, wet roads.

Two days on the bike, almost completely in the rain can really bring perspective to life without constant downpours. Packing up camp, taking ride breaks, heck, even riding feels fantastic when it's not raining. Make no mistake; riding in the dark, the rain, on a washed out road is fun. Only sometimes. I am more than greatful for the flora and fauna the northwest rain supports, I'm also elated to coast down the mossy oceanic highway underneath a rare sun sighting.

Spring into the rainforest.

Living out of packs in a rainforest, in the middle of the rainy season can easily be described with one word: wet. Fortunately our spirits are high; we have many "dry" skills to learn and much road to look forward to. For now, the laundromat will suffice.

Time to roll.

And so begins another trip of a lifetime. Nineteen months ago, I boarded a plane for Korea to explore a new culture in a new region. One month ago I returned with new perspectives on the world, and how my native country fits into it. Throughout my temporary expatriation, I was continually reminded how little I know about the USA, it's people, geography, culture, etc. Many Koreans truly idolize the USA, make it a point of interest in their world travel, and often leave their own country to live here. For these reasons, and in the interest of continual exploration and adventure, I have decided to hit the old country roads of America that John Denver sang about, in search of my country, my pride, most importantly, my patriotism.

As an enthusiastic member of the cycling community, I see the bicycle as the necessary tool for hitting the road. By bicycle, a person can interact with the intimate details of a place and the people around it; at a level difficult to reach by car, plane, train, or bus. Though the label of cyclist often finds itself intertwined in partisan debates, I hope to overcome the stereotypes placed upon my identity, and bond with all walks of life in the USA.

Over the course of this trip, of an indefinite timeline, and of a loosely defined route from the West to the East, and back, I will be publishing the exploits of myself and my traveling companions; Dan and Kane. Please feel free to share ideas, contacts, etc. in the comments section of this blog.

A special thanks Sellwood Cycle Repair and Kona for providing a sturdy bike and helping make this trip possible. Also, to all my family and friends who have supported me in this endeavor; most importantly Emily, whose enthusiasm, encouragement, and selflessness has inspired me to fulfill such an epic experience.

More to come.