The Neanderthal Mind

Seaside – Barview Jetty County Park – Lincoln City – Beachside State Park Recreation Area – Umqua Lighthouse State Park, Oregon

I’ve been struggling with whether I should even bother writing a blog at all for this trip – because it is more in the nature of a vacation than an exploratory journey. It’s not like we’re biking through Mexico or Guatemala. 

But what I’ve realized is that I like writing the blog posts for a few reasons. Yes, it’s fun to tell, and to memorialize, crazy stories. And, of course, it’s really great to share with and hear from all of you readers. But there’s much more to it than that. Turns out that writing the blog helps me process things along the way. It’s also good for Diana and me – because it provides an outlet to find the humor in some of our – how to put it? – more “interesting” days. After all, we’re pretty much together twenty-four-seven – dragging all our gear up and down mountains in places we’ve never been before – so there’s bound to be some things that go slightly awry . . .

Anyway, with that prelude, let’s get back to it . . .

Skipping right to the important stuff . . .

Three days ago – Monday – was a rough day for me. My gas tank hit empty just as we arrived in the town of Rockaway Beach – but the problem is that my gas tank gauge is kind of broken. It tells me that something is wrong – but it can be a challenge to figure out what it is. Am I hungry? Thirsty? Or just plain old tired . . . And it is not good at gradations. There is no half full; either there we’re doing okay, or there is a big problem. There’s no in-between . . .

That day the big realization that something was wrong came when we were in the grocery store shopping for dinner and breakfast stuff to take to the campsite. Now, this is always a stressful time for me – because my bike weight obsession has trouble with the idea of loading an additional ten or fifteen pounds of food in the panniers – especially when my legs are already shot from a full day of riding. 

But this day was worse. As we entered the grocery store – a small, dingy, little place in Rockaway Beach (which is definitely not the town to go to if you’re visiting Oregon’s coast) – I really started to stress out because I hadn’t yet realized that the tank was empty. 

Diana was asking innocent questions like:

“Do you think we should make hamburgers?”

My response:

“What?! Why would we do that?!” in a super irritable tone.

Now, I’m the kind of person whose emotions often get way out ahead of my rational brain. This can serve you well if there is a lion about to attack – and you don’t think – you just react with a spear to the heart or something. Really, it’s good genetics – act first, think later. Survival of the fittest . . . But most of the time, in today’s world, you just look crazy in situations like this . . . 

Given that this was what was essentially happening in my Neanderthal brain – my emotions, which were picking up on the tired vibes coming from my body way before my rational brain knew what was happening, were reacting in the only way they know how . . . I didn’t know what exactly was so terrible about the hamburger question, I just knew – no, not knew . . . I just felt that it was way out of line . . .

It took me a few aisles – and another “offensive” suggestion or two – like, “what about pork chops and salad?” – for my rational brain to catch up with my inner-Fred Flinstone. 

My brain activity was kind of like Captain Kirk in Star Trek after the Enterprise has been torpedoed thirty-seven times by Klingons. 

Captain Kirk (my rational brain): “Scotty (all my internal organs) – give me a report on all systems.”

Scotty: “I’m sorry Captain, but all the engines are down. We’ve got no power, and we’re completely out of fuel.”

Captain Kirk: “What can we do? We need to be fully operational again by tomorrow morning because General Liu is planning a forced march to another galaxy.”

Scotty: “There’s only one solution, Captain. Get to the nearest pizza place, ASAP!”

After this little conversation played itself out in my little pea brain, I was finally able to articulate to Diana that I was way too tired to try to make dinner that night. We ended up biking an additional few miles for pizza. And I’m happy to report that after eating an entire sausage and mushroom pie all systems returned to normal and I was back in the saddle the next morning. 

The real lesson here . . . at least for me (doesn’t seem to apply to Diana because, as we’ve covered many times, she runs on nuclear power or something): don’t fall behind on calories. Easier said than done when biking five or six hours a day with a fully loaded bike. Re-playing the previous day there were several poor decisions that all compounded. First, as you’ll recall we couldn’t make the burgers we were planning to have on the night we couldn’t find a campsite. I ended up having pho. Dumb. Pho tastes good, but it’s basically flavored water. Duh! Second, the next morning we decided it would be a good idea to ride ten miles to Cannon Beach before eating, and then make breakfast there. Another dumb idea. Now it’s mid-day and we just ate breakfast – so lunch ended up pushed way back. Then lunch just wasn’t that good – we tried to make sandwiches with what turned out to be stale and overpriced bagels that we purchased in Cannon Beach (everything is overpriced there). Finally, we ended up having a pretty tough day biking – with lots of big climbs. Add it all up and it’s a wonder my body didn’t completely surrender to the Romulans . . .

The big topic for the next day was also food related – but this is a better – more positive – story. We ended up staying in a hotel in some little coastal town and going to a nearby – and completely nondescript – Indian restaurant: Taste of India. One of the eight-million Taste of India’s in the world . . . Anyway, best Indian food we have ever had – by far. (Indian food is kind of a staple of ours, so I bet Diana and I have had Indian food in 43 different countries and 37 states, so this is saying a lot . . .) Highly recommend it – Taste of India in Lincoln City, Oregon. Write it down. Plan a trip there  . . . Lamb tandori and palek paneer. Amazing. 

Now, we’ve been talking a lot about my feelings. Time to hit Dr. Liu in this department as well . . . 

As you know, Diana has a pretty high bar when it comes to her admiration for others’ physical achievements – especially in the endurance department. 

“I ran a marathon this morning?”

“Yes, but what did you do in the afternoon?”

“Took a nap.”

“Hmm. No bike ride or swim? Maybe a strength workout?”

But there is one individual that she is pretty entranced with. A guy she calls Bondo. I’m not sure what his real name is – but he is pretty impressive to my wife. He bikes like two or three hundred miles – per day. Remember when we biked to Ushaia a few years ago? I thought we were pretty quick – like seven months or so. Bondo started in Alaska – adding a few thousand extra miles to the trip – and still biked the entire distance in like eighty days. 

Diana’s never met Bondo, but I’m pretty sure she’s in endurance-love with him. Every day she’s telling me about his Strava exploits . . .

“He biked 237 miles today, with 22,000 feet of elevation gain. Is that a lot?” (This is one of those occasions when the words don’t match the meaning – because what she means is: “Isn’t Bondo awesome. And don’t you just love him!?!”)

Anyway, I’m not quite sure why, but the NFL recently hired Bondo to bike with a football to every football stadium in the country. I guess the last stadium he needed to hit was in Seattle, and the second-to-last was in San Francisco – meaning that Bondo was heading north this week on the same roads we were going south on. 

The upshot is that we ended up crossing paths with Bondo. I mean, we think we did. It’s not like we talked to him. But he waved to us, and afterwards Diana was able to confirm that It was, indeed, the kindred spirit of her endurance junky heart because he was wearing the same shirt that she has seen him wearing in the pictures on his Strava posts. (Should I be concerned that my wife looks at so many pictures of this 22 year old biker that she knows his wardrobe better than mine?)

Diana insists this was not a big deal for her – but we all have our heroes – and she could do a lot worse . . .

Well, lots of other stuff . . . The Oregon Coast is amazing. Difficult to log any real miles because there’s another incredible view every ten minutes. We stopped at the Oregon Coastal Aquarium – that was cool. We saw sea lions, seals, and elk. We’ve been staying in Oregon’s hiker/biker campsites – which are super-cheap, guaranteed available, and generally secluded and nice. And we finally had our hamburger dinner last night. Not as good as the Indian place, but pretty darn tasty.