O r. V , ' » y s t ‘S
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ju st o u t ▼ July 1 0 . 1 9 0 0 ▼ 13
ON THE ROAD
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n Saturday, June 22, the morning
was cool and overcast, perfect for a
bike ride. River Oaks RV Park, 60
miles north of Portland off 1-5, was
empty but for a few “permanents”
and two families in for a softball tournament. The
biggest business day of the year was beginning
The Seattle to Portland Bicycle Classic is the biggest day o f
quietly near Vader, Wash.
In Seattle, 10,000bicyclists were starting their
the year for a lesbian-owned RV park
annual two-day ride to Portland. ,
T
Millie Norton and Dar Osborne, owners of
by Joyce Batten
River Oaks, got up around 7 am and lingered over
coffee. Then the cups went into the sink and the
women went outside. They had work to do.
They were booked up for that night and had
been for three months. Last year the Seattle to
Portland Bicycle Classic had taken them by sur
prise. Today they were going to be ready.
Clean liners went into emptied trash cans. The
restrooms were cleaned and fully stocked. Full
rolls of toilet paper replaced partial rolls. Paper
towel dispensers were filled to capacity. Once the
riders started arriving, the restrooms and showers
would be in steady use for at least four hours.
Of course, they’d be able to check the women ’ s
bathroom. But for the men’s, they’d have to send
in a scout.
After they finished with the restrooms, Millie
and Dar rearranged picnic tables, setting some out
in the central lawns for the tenters. They went at
it together and were ready for visitors in little
more than an hour.
Millie and Dar have been going at everything
together for 22 years. Ever since buying the RV
park 18 months ago, they’ve shared a job as well
as a home and all the other aspects of a life
together. Congenial and courteous with each
other and genuinely friendly, the pair has man
Millie Norton (left) and Dar Osborne
aged to turn their love of people and hospitality
into a demanding job that may well qualify as a
shirts and jeans, a taller blond and a shorter
curves.
lifestyle.
brunette. Soon they were knocking on the office
The west fork runs beside the fence line to
Before they bought River Oaks, they used to
door.
Millie and Dar’s home and office. The east fork
cook.
The trailer’s pop-up top, designed to be raised
parallels the west past a rented modular home,
“You can’t,” Millie said. ‘They interrupt you.
as a unit by the turning of a crank, wouldn’t go up,
then runs past Millie and Dar’s house, and on
The next thing you know, something’s burned.
at least not in the back. Millie dialed the RV
down a gradual hill to the campsites and the
We had to give it up.”
Rescue Service and handed the phone to the
Cowlitz River.
They eat a lot of sandwiches.
blond. It was her brother and sister-in-law’s tent
Chuck and Marsha live in the modular home
This was Millie and Dar’s second summer at
trailer.
with their three small children, a dog, a mother cat
River Oaks and their second Seattle to Portland
Mrs. RV Rescue said the repair man was real
and three kittens. By 1:30 pm, four-year-old Jes
Bicycle Classic. Sponsored by the Cascade Bi
sica and three-year-old Nick were out beside their
busy but she’d have him call when he had time.
cycle Club of Seattle, the 17th annual race, known
They gave their cell phone number and went for
driveway with their lemonade stand set up and
as the STP, put 10,000 riders on the road that
a walk.
ready for business. Dar was their first customer.
Saturday morning beginning at 5 am at Seattle’s
The clouds broke up and the sun began to
Millie was their second.
Kingdome. The first of them would be coasting
shine around 3 pm, shortly after that the first
A handsome navy blue Blazer with tan trim
into River Oaks early in the afternoon.
bicycle rider arrived.
came in pulling a pop-up tent trailer. Dar showed
But long before the riders come, their support
During the afternoon lull, Dar and Millie went
the visitors to a shady campsite near the river.
people arrive. In RVs, station wagons or compact
down by the river to see how the couple with the
They were two women in their 40s, casual in T-
cars, these friends and families of the riders come
early and set up camp. They pitch tents, set out
clean clothes, start dinner. They stroll the park.
They visit. They may even fish.
The first support vehicle hit River Oaks at
about 8:30 in the morning.
It was an old gold station wagon with two
teenage boys in it.
They were part of Millie and Dar’s largest
party: one water and electric hookup and 24 tents.
After Dar showed them where to park, they started
putting up tents. Then the wind picked up and it
began to feel like rain.
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The families and friends arrived from time to
time all morning. They came in campers, trailers,
RVs, trucks, cars, vans and one motor home. They
parked, set up tents and made themselves com
fortable.
By noon the wide lawn in front of Millie and
Dar’s house was full of recreation: badminton,
soccer, Frisbee. The players were the kids in bike
support groups and other kids there for the soft-
ball tournament in Toledo.
River Oaks RV Park is fronted by a weathered
split-rail fence interrupted by the entrance and
exit ends of a wide graveled drive that curves
around a broad central lawn at the front of the
Jessica, Nick and baby brother Jerrad open up shop
park. This circular drive forks at the west and east
O
D ykes and B ikes —
A L ot of B ikes
tent trailer were doing. Dar and Millie each lifted
a back comer while the tall blond tried the crank
one more time. No luck. The couple decided to
have a glass of lemonade and wait for their bicy
clists, who had packed a cell phone but weren’t
answering it.
The pace started getting hectic around 4:30
pm. The people who had reserved one water and
electric hookup and space for 24 tents showed up
with a boat. There would soon be no room for it
anywhere near the hookups, so Dar looked around
and found a spot between the pump house and the
cow pasture.
Riders were coming in pretty steadily now. All
of them were wet with sweat and quiet, soft-
spoken and brief. They all had helmets strapped
on top of their heads and numbers on their backs
and handlebars. Most wore tight black cycling
shorts and various kinds of special shirts and
shoes. There was nothing casual about the look of
them or of their bikes. Most of them coasted in and
seemed to know where to find their families and
friends.
The bicycle riders congregated outside the
showers, towels and soap and clean clothes in
hand. With one shower in each bathroom, there
was a crowd in the afternoon and into the evening,
waiting and visiting. No one seemed to be in a
hurry. No one seemed annoyed.
As one rider explained, they took on a lot of
calories all day and drank a lot of Gatorade and
water, so they weren’t depleted. And, after the
vigorous workout, they were full of endorphins.
A masseuse set up a table under a tree on the
wide lawn toward the front of the park sometime
after 4 pm. A pretty, muscular woman in her mid-
30s, she worked her way slowly through the party
that had hired her. They lay like lolling seals on
her table while she worked their shoulders, upper
arms, backs and legs. Dar wanted a turn, too. By
8 pm the masseuse had finished her work and
headed back to Portland.
About that time the navy blue Blazer with tan
trim and bicycles on the roof came up the hill from
the campground pulling the closed tent trailer.
The blond driver paused long enough to tell Millie
that the four of them had decided to just go home.
Everyone was tired. She and her partner hoped to
come back in a couple of weeks with their tent
trailer and spend a night or two.
It was just about time to start collecting money.
Millie and Dar charge by the space and the kind of
space, by the tent and by the person if there are
more than two per space or tent.
“We give discounts for AAA and British
Columbia Automobile Association and Good
Sam, the travel club. They rate us, and the dis
count to their members is part of the deal,” Dar
said. “If all else fails and I feel like it, I ask guests
if they belong to Costco. They get real tickled
about a discount like that, and it’s only 10 per
cent.”
As evening began to fade, Dar made rounds
asking if everybody had gotten in safe and sound.
If so, she’d say, “You folks want to settle up
now?” Often, the guest brought it up first. This
made for smooth, cordial transactions.
“You look people over and you size people
up,” Dar said. “If you like ’em, you cut ’em some
slack. Like those people over by the patio. They
were nice, young. They don’t have the money
some of these people have. So I cut ’em a break.
And they’ll be back. They’ll tell their friends,
too.” Then she added, “Word of mouth, best
advertising there is.”
That night, River Oaks fell quiet before dark.
The lemonade stand was deserted. Tired and clean
and fed, the cyclists crawled into their bunks, their
bags or their tents. Tables were cleared and fires
left to die. Only Millie and Dar were out to meet
the night. They restocked the restrooms and wiped
them down. Then they emptied trash together.
Their workday ended at the dumpster shortly after
10 pm.
Now for a sandwich and a kiss good night.