Thursday, August 5, 2010

Day 68. Ochoco Pass, OR to Bend, OR. 60ish miles.

When I stepped out of my sleeping bag into the cool morning air, I felt like absolute shit. The food baby I had created the day before was still there, solid as ever. For some reason, my body didn't seem to digest any of the jalapeno laden dinner. I packed up quickly, put on all of my warm clothes, my warm breath filling the air in front of me and headed down to the road to a rest stop.

The morning was one of the coldest I had experienced the entire trip. The one mile ride down to the rest area caused my toes and fingers to go numb. I stood in the warm sunshine and waited for the sun to get a bit higher in the sky before moving on. After a couple hours of riding and beginning a new audio book I found myself in Prineville, OR where I immediately disregarded the promise I had made to myself the night before. The promise to eat fruit and vegetables went right out the door as I ate pancakes - at least it wasn't full of B+G. As I sat, I started to feel worse and worse until after nearly two hours I decided I had to keep going. Plus the town of Prineville wasn't so awesome.

Nausea start to set in as I started the 30 miles to Bend, Oregon. My stomach churned as the ocean. My legs slowed, my head started to hang low and suddenly a car passed me within inches as it came right toward me passing another car. Holy shit, I thought. If I had weaved or the wind picked up, the last thing that would have gone through my mind would have been my ass. At one point I stopped on the side of the road and rested my head on my arms atop my handlebars. Vomiting was certain. But I kept on, and as I rolled into Bend I stopped to sit in some grass like a bum. After a brief rest I went to the library to update this blog, which has definitely been fun but at the same time has been a bit of a hassle. As I typed it was as if someone pushed a button in my insides and I ran for the bathroom. Sorry, fellow shitter patrons.

Welp, that did me in. I made my way to a fabulous motel. The room was cheap, smelled of cigarette smoke and didn't provide shampoo. That's how you know a motel is nice, the lack of shampoo. There I caught up on the latest 'The Hills' episodes. You know, that show where people are famous just for being alive but not actually doing anything except for being pretty. That sounds good to me, empty, but good.


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