Great people met on the Pacific coast

A native of Montenegro, a mother on holiday with her son, two laid-back Londoners, two Belgians just graduated. What is the relationship between all these people? None, except that I crossed their paths, along the Pacific coast of the United States.

I knew I would have a lot of fun between Portland and San Francisco. First, because the coast is beautiful, wild, slightly mournful if the weather is less good, very sparsely populated, and very well preserved. But it is also one of those regions of the United States where we meet many very cool people!

There was David, a native of Montenegro. I was hitchhiking at a street corner in Portland and we started to discuss everything from nothing, but mostly rain falling. Finally, he invited me for a coffee at home, explain a better way to reach my next step, prepared my new sign to hitch-hike, and discussed about former Yugoslavia. In the past he met several times and interviewed war criminal Radovan Karadzic (he still calls him Radovan and considers him as a friend).

Janna and Tyler passed me in their car. Five minutes later, they passed me again but then stopped. Vacationing on the coast, they found that I looked trustful and decided to pick me up. Good pick for me since they were as little in hurry as me. So we took some detours, saw a lighthouse, a cape, whales in the distance, hiked a bit before they dropped me off at my hosts', the very ones you “met” in my post about Pacific City.

Seth, another host on the coast, introduced me to his vegetarian cooking skills and beautiful places outside the city. He also let me share nice evenings with his friends of Lincoln City. Without that, I'd bet that this sad city without character would not have left me a ever-lasting impression.

Then Michael, born German, installed in the U.S. for a number of years and with whom I did a little way. A simple life based on surfing and travel. In the coming days, he is taking off to India for few months.

I met Lesanna on a bridge in Newport. One of those big metal truss bridges the American West is full of. I came across the river when we passed one another. Her, pushing her bike; me, backpacking slightly disheveled by the wind. I just advised her to hold her bike in the wind. Apparently I scared her. So we started talking on the bridge, on the pavement, five feet from high speed passing cars. A great traveler, too, we talked about our respective journeys. After that we decided to dine together with her colleague Andy, also a biologist at the Seattle Aquarium. And ultimately, she never bike ride that bridge to go and see the lighthouse on the other side.

It was early that morning. And it rained like never before. Under my poncho to hitch-hike (not much choice!) I knew my chances of success rather slim. But Kirk had mercy. A 20 year old who came home from his night shift. I think he dreamed of traveling when he eventually slept that morning. He already dreamed of that when we were talking about his desires and my journey in his car.

Micah stopped because he didn't see any danger could come from me. It is true that the only idea of wanting to oppose him is in itself a very good joke. So impressive, but so nice. Arrived in Florence, where he worked, he called Christine, his wife, so she could join us and they invited me to lunch. Around a true American hamburger, we talked of France (where Christine lived a few months as a youngster), their six children, Oregon, my journey and their former bison farm.

Usually I'm careful and I "sort" the cars in which I feel I can get ... or not. There were three or four times that I refused politely when I find the person/people a little ... strange. When Lucio pulled over his camper crammed full of clothes, mattresses spilling out onto the front seats, older packages of fast food, and blankets for the dog in the passenger seat, I do not know what crossed my mind but I went up. And finally, Lucio is a great guy. A true hippie, that's all.

That evening, I found a little free camping at Winchester Bay. It must be said, a tent and a backpack consume a lot of water or electricity compared to my neighbours traveling with their motorhomes. I laughed alone of the disproportion between our ways of traveling when Ed asked me if he had not crashed my tent backwards. It would not have been a joke if it was the case! And then everything is chained: drinks with his friend Mike, then Mexican dinner with the occupants of the three motorhomes (a whole bunch of sheriffs with their kids). And the next morning, hot coffee before heading back. That was great!

Gary has also turned around, after discussion with Chris, with whom she returned to Bandon after their groceries. A very cool, long white hair, large sunglasses, which let imagined her in the 70's. So nice, she even insisted on taking me directly to Port Orford offering me a real tour of places I never would have discovered if I had drawn straight.

Arrived at destination, Kathy greeted me with such enthusiasm it reminded me of another great-grandmother I know. We walked on the beach, hiked along the cliff, visited a lighthouse, saw whale sprays off the coast. I have dried my tent in her living room, she made me a delicious breakfast, we hiked again, before she drove me herself to my next step. A great shared moment.

Rob and Dave are two Londoners landed in Oregon twenty years with their parents. They are still there. They take life as it comes, and everything is fine. They live with a bunch of occupations alongside their printing business. Their house in Brookings is an assembly of a thousand things that wacky I never imagined we would ever dare to associate within the same space: a mini-rotary printing, a garland of light Christmas, surfboards, a huge sofa, a bunch of musical instruments, a wall covered with burlap, another with newsprint, a banana tree, and so on.

Outside, Leon was there. I spoke with him for an hour. Very intriguing, Leon (no picture unfortunately). It started with his theory of cataclysmic events (type tsunami or earthquake) guided by humans. A dark power that seeks to increase his power by atomizing some communities a sudden natural disaster. And then there was a whole chorus on climate change. There I still expressed my views. And on 11 September. And others after. But all in good atmosphere.

At the cafe the next day with Dave (pictured above), I met Deanne who offered to drive me to the California border, then to another city. We finally went to her place when she saw my interest in her project of Bed & Breakfast with a garden part. And in the end, she took me to visit the amazing Redwoods, these huge trees along the cylindrical trunk and foliage perched almost 100 meters above the ground.

What happens when two Belgians travel to celebrate the end of their studies? Here is a four or five-month anticlockwise road trip around the U.S. It also gives some smiles when I knew they had struggled to find the Pacific coast, they had lost their spare car keys, they had burnt the battery of the same car because that they had listened to music while falling asleep in it. Travel tales, they do have! And we took our time, we camped, we cooked over a wood fire, we went as tourists would do. And that was great!

Mike offered me to drop me off five kilometres away. I agreed. I told him that I wanted to go to a free camping along the coast. He suggested a place not far from where he dropped me off, as plan B in case no one else would stop. In the end, he came back five minutes after to offer his garden as free camping. A true garden party! And with him and his wife Eve, I spent two very pleasant evenings to cook and talk.

Great encounters. And for those who beg for a picture of me, here you are!

Well, maybe I'll stop here. There were so many others. And there would more than double to write about all dogs, cats, lamas, and other pets I've met but it would be less interesting. You will find all the faces in the portrait gallery on the "Pictures" (and also here below). And for landscapes, wait a few days I arrived in San Francisco to do everything at once.