I was set to leave to the United States, for the Transam Bike Race 2017, on the 31st of May, with my bike and all accessories in a bike box. The idea was to disembark in Portland, use the tools available at the Portland airport (they have a special bike assembly section!), discard the box and ride to my hotel. Then, there was this little matter of things not going according to plan.

30th May: I’d left packing my bike into the box for last minute. It was well past evening, and I had to box my bike, before turning in for the night. Only, the box was smallish, and my boxing skills were totally inadequate. After multiple failed attempts, the last of which even led to my bike’s frame getting scratched from a poorly packed wheel (the disc was exposed), I gave up on the idea of taking the bike in a box, and instead packed it inside my pika packworks bike bag. Getting the bike into the generously proportioned pika bag was super-easy, but I knew this decision would throw my plans of riding the bike out of the airport, right out of the window, but still decided that it was the best course of action, under the circumstances. In hindsight, I really ought to have got that bike packed into the box by the local bike store guy, well ahead of time.

31st May: I’d barely slept the previous night, due to my travel anxiety which had kicked in bigtime. I went over the things I’d packed, convinced I’d forgotten things I needed, and fretting over things I’d taken. I kept adding and removing things from the bag till it was mere minutes for my taxi to arrive, but made it onto the taxi, and to Linköping airport in time. A sigh of relief after I paid for the bikebag, and dropped it off at the counter. I was on my way!

KLM charges EUR 150 to fly a bike on this sector :(

Arrival into PDX was totally uneventful, thankfully.

When I mentioned the Trans Am bike race as my purpose of visit, I got incredulous looks, and after stamping my passport, the officer at the immigration desk wished me luck, warmly. After some waiting, my bag arrived at the oversized bags section, and saw that a few other bikes had arrived. After I picked up my bag, I made my way towards the exit, where I was planning to hail an Uber, when I met another TABR racer, Ken Ray, who’d already called an Uber. He saw that he was headed in the same direction as I was, and my motel was actually enroute to his. He offered to drop me off, and I graciously accepted. I still owe you a beer, Ken!

The motel was originally booked by a Canadian TABR racer, Meaghan Hackinen, and I’d written to her on the TABR facebook page, responding to a call looking for a TABR biker to split the motel expense with. I’d reached the motel rather early, but the motel owner was kind enough to give me a key, so I could get my stuff inside, and grab a shower, before Meaghan turned up. She came after some time, and we bantered about biking, and our plans for TABR. Now, I needed to find a mobile connection, and also figure out what to do with my bike bag. I found an AT&T store not too far away, and after waiting what seemed like an eternity, I spoke to the salesperson there, and purchased a new sim. I even got an unlimited calling plan for India, apart from the free local calling, and I think it cost me USD 90, in all. Next stop: bike bag drop.

I saw there was a Fedex pickup center a few blocks away; I called them and described my bag and tried to get a quote, but the person who answered the call and spoke with an Indian accent asked me to get there instead, as the quote was very size specific. Even though the bag was empty, it wasn’t very easy to lug it around; in hindsight, I should have hailed an uber, but I managed to get there before he closed anyway, but the cost was going to be quite high! It would cost me over a hundred dollars, to ship the bag across the coast. Thanks to other people on the TABR facebook page, I at least had an address I could ship the box over to; it was a bike store called Village Bicycles, run by a very nice couple. Hundred dollars was very steep, but I had no choice, as I had to bike to Astoria the next day, and the bag was too expensive to throw away. I paid up, and returned to the motel.

Meaghan had left to meet a few other riders at a local pub called Dots Cafe, and I followed, after some time. At the pub, I met a fellow TABR racer and local boy David Barstow Robinson (DBR), a couple of his friends, and Lochie Kavanagh, a 19 year old TABR racer who’d flown in all the way from Australia. We traded banter for a while, before I left. I’d by then discovered I had a problem with my tail-dragging saddlebag. I spent a couple of hours packing annd repacking stuff, all in a bid to ensure a bigger gap between the bag and my rear wheel. All of my frantic repacking work must have ensured that Meaghan didn’t get much sleep either, but she was too nice to complain. On the other hand, she urged me to calm down. Thanks so much, Meaghan! We’d both wake up in a couple of hours and set off, on a ride to Astoria, with a bunch of other riders.