"It's been so long since I've seen the ocean... I guess I should."

a farm near Lebanon Oregon
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Never has anyone woken to a slug, just a few inches above their head on their mosquito netting, and been as elated about it as I.  Oh the cold and the damp and eager anticipation of the little strip of land that lies between me and my destination!  It was a gorgeous morning riding through Sweet Home and Lebanon, towns I have heard of often- our high schools competed in athletics!- but never even seen myself.  Then there's the Willamette River valley. The real region that I call home.  This is the farm land that drew all of the pioneers well beyond anything familiar or civilized.

crossing the Willamette River in Corvallis
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It's funny now to think of every little landmark that indicated to me that I was getting there- getting back home.  When I crossed the Mississippi, when I crossed the Rockies, when I crossed the Continental Divide, when I crossed in to Pacific Time, when I crossed into Oregon, when I crossed the Cascades just yesterday and the pacific crest trail- then today, just this evening- I crossed I-5 and the Willamette River.  Tonight I am officially west of my very own home town.

Corvallis is a very nice town, mostly a university, but a town of it's own as well. I saw a friend from camp briefly and we talked like friends who happen to live apart, not as one settled and one on a journey.  There is some comfort settling in.  I ate dinner at a McMenamins pub.  This is comfortable, yes- but that ocean is one day away.  I guess I should.