Pacific Coast, Day 5: Elma, WA to Castle Rock, WA

It was pretty gloomy when I left Elma, and the forecast was calling for a little rain, but I didn’t want to put on a rain jacket before it did, because I’d just end up sweaty, so I took my chances.

It started to rain almost immediately, and it did so for the next several hours, but it was always light enough that I didn’t want to stop and put on my jacket, so I ended up somewhere between damp and wet all day.

I talked to my friends John Cacabelos and Abbe Gloor on the phone for 45 minutes, which helped pass the time, and I didn’t really pay much attention to the scenery.

I did notice that the views changed from the kind of depressing clear-cut and replanted “forests” to tidy farms. The surroundings were quiet and relaxing.

I didn’t stop riding until I reached Toledo, about 62 miles in, mainly because there really wasn’t any place to stop, or really any reason to stop. I was on the lookout for a little Cafe, but none appeared.

But in Toledo, a little burger joint caught my eye, and I decided to stop. It is called Betty’s Place, and I highly recommend it.

I don’t eat meat, but I was able to cobble together a suitable lunch. All but one of the employees were kids, and I suspect the only adult was probably Betty herself.

They were really busy, so I didn’t try to start conversations with them. A group of five boys I’d just passed on bicycles a mile away appeared just after I ordered. I was amused to see them buying tiny ice cream cones for 25 cents each. These 25 cent cones are a beloved mainstay of Betty’s Place.

A young woman came in and placed an order and then I heard one of the employees call her “Mom.” I was incredulous. I had thought she was about 18. Her son is 19! I had to say something, and this started a conversation that lasted until her order was ready. She loves Toledo, and she is a fourth generation native. I didn’t ask her name or ask for a photo, but it was a nice snapshot of small town Washington.

Up to this point, I had been planning to camp nearby, but I learned the campground was on the other side of the Cowlitz River, and I was going to have to backtrack tomorrow, or ride on I5 for a couple miles. That and the damp conditions convinced me to just continue to Castle Rock, where I knew there was a motel, so I pressed on.

The ferry between Cathlamet and Westport is apparently out-of-service and I haven’t decided what to do about that yet.