I’ve come to accept that being on a bike tour means being perpetually sore.

There was no wifi, and with no wifi, we had no map.

If it hadn’t been for the signs, I wouldn’t have known we crossed over.

“This doesn’t look good.”

We woke to the smell of smoke.

The parking lot was filled with cars, families streaming out of their vehicles to enter Face Rock Creamery...

Somehow, we just couldn’t keep from being in motion.

It was supposed to be our rest day.

We were riding a towering cliff, a 300-foot drop straight down to the rocky shore and cold waters of the Oregon coast.

“You guys must either be crazy or ambitious.”