By Gail Wood
Last summer, as the other 10,000 bike riders in the annual Seattle-to-Portland Classic wrestled with peddling 205-miles from Seattle to Portland, Scott Whidden faced a more daunting quest.
Whidden, who had never ridden farther than 105 miles, wasn’t stopping in Portland.
He was determined to peddle past Portland, past Oregon City, past Crescent City, past Eureka, and past San Francisco. His target was to ride to his aunt and uncle’s home in Santa Cruz, Calif., just like his dad did 30 years earlier.
“I was pretty sure I could make it,” Whidden said.
He did.
And he didn’t even stop there. Whidden, a 2007 Capital High School graduate, road his three-year-old bike from Seattle to Mexico. Then, to the surprise of his parents and maybe even Whidden himself, he peddled his bike home, doing the 3,400-plus mile journey in about six weeks.
“I wasn’t planning on doing that,” Whidden said. “But things went better than I thought they would on the way down. So, I figured I’d ride my bike home.”
Riding most of the trip by himself, Whidden slept in his tent at campsites and wooded meadows along the way, swimming in a couple of rivers and once in the ocean in Northern California at Big Sur. He never stayed in a hotel.
With only the pack on his back, Whidden usually ate breakfast at McDonald’s, then grabbed snacks at corner grocery stores along the way. Occasionally, he heated up a can of soup with the one-burner stove he packed.
“I ate a lot of trail mix and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” Whidden said.
Since his father, Wayne, did the trip when he was 33, Scott Whidden had his parent’s support. But that didn’t mean they weren’t worried.
“We were a little concerned,” Wayne Whidden said, emphasizing the word concerned. “His planning wasn’t as detailed as I would have done.”
Scott’s plan was simply to ride until he got tired and then pitch his tent for the night. He didn’t plot his trip step-by-step, deciding destination spots each day. That’s not how dad did it.
“I was following guidebooks and staying at state parks,” Wayne said.
Scott’s trip was more spontaneous, less scheduled. That just cranked up the worry dial for his folks.
“They wanted me to either call them or text them each day,” Scott said.
And the peddling son did just that. For the first week, or so. Then the text messages stopped.
“We had a little anxiety whenever we didn’t hear from him,” Wayne said.
So, Wayne would call his son, just to hear his son’s voice and to get an update.
“Things were just going so well,” Scott said. “I’d just kind of forget.”
Along the way, Scott met other bikers and would ride with them for stretches, making new friends. But he did most of his riding alone, allowing him to take in the beautiful ocean views. Scott’s longest day was a 130-mile stretch from Malibu to San Clemente. A stretch of that ride was done on a path that was crowded with joggers, walkers and bikers.
“It was pretty stressful,” Scott said.
Only once, while peddling north on his return, did Scott think about quitting. He was bucking a strong headwind and not making progress.
“I was peddling really hard and I was only going 7-miles-per hour,” Scott said. “It was like that for about three hours. It was brutal.”
If the wind hadn’t quit, Scott, who said his entire trip was spurred by his dad’s bike ride 30 years earlier, figured he’d probably had caught the next train home.
His parents, Wayne and Debbie, planned their vacation so they could meet Scott in Santa Cruz at Wayne’s sister’s home. One of the options was for Scott to ride back with his parents. But he opted for riding home on his bike.
Scott, with his legs still feeling strong, decided to continue riding to San Diego to visit a friend. For that 500-plus mile leg of the trip, Scott averaged over 100 miles a day. Then he met up with some riders who were heading to Mexico and Scott rode with them to Tijuana, doing the 80-mile round trip ride in one day.
To prepare for his long adventure, Scott, who works as a carpenter and volunteers as a fireman, often rode his bike to a job site, sometimes carrying his carpenter’s belt. When he was on his getaway to California, he rode his bike every day except once, whether it was touring a town or just going to the store.
To his parent’s relief, Scott’s endless journey was safe. He only had four flat tires and just one near accident when a car going about 20 miles per hour nearly hit him in an intersection in San Diego.
Now, with his first long ride behind him, Scott, whose trip lasted from July 13 to Aug. 27, figures he’ll do another. Maybe he’ll ride the east coast. Or take a ride in or to Alaska.
“I’d like to make another trip,” Scott said. “This one turned out so good.”
Perhaps most importantly, Scott had a bragging point to the trip. He did it faster than his dad did 30 years ago.
“I did it a lot quicker than he did,” Scott said with a chuckle.
And he went a lot farther – a double brag.
