Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Nonetheless, I took of through the streets of the city, along the old waterfront and
past a crowded marina, under the bridge, and, picking up U.S. 101, across Youngs Bay
on a long causeway.
For the first twenty-five miles or so the road was easy, relatively flat, the drizzle un-
threatening. I passed through a couple of towns—Seaside, where I had excellent pan-
cakes for breakfast, and Cannon Beach, where the ocean came splendidly into view.
It was a fine beginning; the whole day was fine, in fact, except for a handful of haz-
ardous spots—especially one, inside a narrow tunnel, where a couple of logging trucks
sped by close enough to make me wobble. I'd never come across this before: entering the
tunnel, cyclists are urged to stop in order to press a roadside button, setting off a light
signal above the entrance that is supposed to warn drivers of our presence. It struck me
as a good idea until I was actually in the tunnel, where the shoulder had dwindled to
