I had no idea where I was going when I got up this morning. I was either going to go up the Oregon Coast, or head inland to Crater Lake. I was leaning towards inland, when I got an email from my friend, Tom Holland. I gave him a call and he said that his family had been to the coast several times and loved it, so I went north. Just like Northern California, there are beautiful views around every corner (and thankfully, 101 is not nearly as twisty as highway 1. I hiked down a trail to one of these huge rocks in the ocean. It really warmed me up for the rest of my ride.
I was planning on making it to Newport, but it was raining so hard, that I pulled off somewhere, about 45 miles south of there, found a campsite, and here I sit. Amazing that I can be in my tent, in the pouring rain, working on images and typing this out. . .
I pulled up to a gas pump in Oregon, and this older gentleman came out and walked on over to my pump. I said, “I’ll go ahead and get it myself.” He said, “Legally, I just have to turn it on.” I was confused, but I ran my card through and he lifted the handle, “Supreme?” he asked, “Well, I feel pretty confident, but I wouldn’t go that far.” He laughed and let me pump my gas. He told me Oregon has a “No self-serve” law (and New Jersey is the other state in case you were curious). I told him I also needed to use the restroom, did he need to get that started? He smiled and said, “No, but you gotta pay me for the key. A man’s gotta make a buck. . .” He was only joking, went and got the key and gave it to me. As I was getting ready to leave, I was putting on my rain pants, and he said, “Oh yea, it’s a dollar for changing.” I told him I charged a dollar for NOT telling him he was full of shit, so we were even. He laughed and waved as I pulled out.