I can not blog about today without blogging about Tommy and his family. I met Tommy at the Hunter Creek Bar & Grill in Gold Beach, OR. (First of all: Oregon! Oregon! If you’d told me the first time I would come this far north it would be on a bike I would have told you you were crazy - and not just normal crazy, the special kind of crazy. Every time I look at those 101 North signs that say Eureka I thought to myself “when am I going to get up there? A: now.”). I had reservations for the Tutrtle Creek RV Resort (“Resort”) and was biking down a tiny country road in the dark, looking for something to eat. I thought I’d missed the grill, and was kind of sad about going to bed cold and hungry - and then, out of the mists: the Bar! And they had salads! And a really awesome bartender! Anyway, I took a seat at the bar, and down the bar a bit was a middle aged man and his (pretty elderly but still spry) mother. He struck up a conversation with me about my ride, and next thing you know, instead of a cold, sad RV park, I’m staying in his beautiful house, with his son, mother, and a beautiful golden retriever named Wilson, fresh sheets on the bed. He even made me breakfast.
Now, this is just not behavior that I’m used to. I’m sure you country bumpkins will tell me all about rural hospitality, but in San Francisco, you do not invite random people from a bar into your house unless they are of the appropriate gender and you are planning on sleeping in the same bed together.
I will never forget Tommy. He was interesting, inspiring, and incredibly nice. And he had an awesome dog. We chatted about marathons - he qualified for the Boston and was encouraging me to reopen my dream and try to qualify (maybe I will, Tommy). He didn’t need to help me, he could have just gone home. Nobody would have thought less of him. His wife was out of town on a trip; it turns out his family is really quite wealthy and his brothers are all doctors; one of them runs a famous cancer clinic in Lubbock, TX. And the dog - did I mention the dog? What a beautiful, beautiful dog.
Anyway. So, in one night I: rekindled my dream of qualifying for Boston, jumpstarted my drive to own a Golden Retriever, and restored my faith in humanity. Not bad for one day.
On an editorial note, I've made a decision to fall off of the plan - consciously - and stay in Oregon for the Oregon Country Fair. Everyone on my trip has told me what an amazing experience it is, and I'm coming so close to it, I can't bear not to stop. So I'll be stopping off in Bend for a few days and then heading to the fair in Veneta, before continuing back on East!
Wilson is a good dog