Guns, beer, sex, a Reuben Sandwich to rule them all and the Truffle Shuffle.
What an awesome day.
It rained all night and we packed up wet. Not the ideal situation. But it was hard to be in a bad mood when we were in Goonies territory. The movie was filmed just north of our campground, in Astoria, Oregon.
We spent the night in Ft. Stevens State park, an old military base, converted for public use. We spent the first part of the day exploring the fortifications and reading the history of the military complex which guarded the mouth of the Columbia River from the Civil War through World War II.
It was interesting to read about the Japanese attack on the fort during World War II along with the numerous Japanese incendiary bombs delivered via balloons to the Pacific Northwest of the United States. Like the East Coast German U-Boat attacks (New York, Boston, Virginia), these incidents were kept hushed up during wartime to avoid a public panic.
Later, riding into Seaside, Oregon we were a bit taken aback when people started clapping and cheering for us at the End of the Lewis & Clark trail monument. Unfortunately, we were not the bicycle tourists the crowd was expecting. The Maryland to Oregon, “Lucky 13” bike trip was ending their cross-country ride and fundraiser at the same spot. We chatted with a few of the parents of the Scout Troop who were expecting their sons at any moment.
We explored the town and spent a good portion of the day updating the WanderWheels site.
Thirsty, tired, hungry and suffering from finger cramps attributed to typing, we found our way to Seaside Brewing. Disappointedly, they were in the process of converting from a single to a 15 barrel brewery and did not have any of their own beers on tap.
While quaffing my beer, I noticed a guy, with a camera and a “Lucky 13” shirt on. The photographer, Jimmy, happened to be one of the owners of Seaside Brewing, that had come from the Lucky 13 arrival party. Seaside Brewing had donated one of their private rooms for the group to have a final party.
Not having found a place to camp yet, we asked Jimmy about area prospects. His altruistic streak continued and he offered us his spare bedroom for the night. Previously he had been in a Punk bank and was the beneficiary of many nights of couch-surfing, so he fully understood what it was like to be looking for a place to crash in a new town.
With the accommodation issue solved, there was little left to do except share an amazing Reuben Sandwich. Don’t take my word for it, trust the menu.
Fully satiated, we made our way to Jimmy’s, considering ourselves lucky for a serendipitous encounter.