Week 8: July 28 - August 6
Eureka, MT to Anacortes, WA
This Week's Photos
Week 7 journal
July 28
"The bars in Eureka close at 2 AM on a Friday night. I know this because
shortly after 2 we were awakened in our tent by the sound of a mass of
people and cars that chose the park in which we were sleeping to
congregate after the last call. Although we managed to get back to sleep
at about 3:30, we were up again at 5:00 to get an early start in an
attempt to avoid the wind.
Lake Koocanusa is a man-made lake, formed by damming the Kootenai River in
the 60's by the construction of Libby Dam. The lake's name was chosen as
a result of a contest, and the winner came up with it by combining KOO
from Kootenai, CAN from Canada, and USA, since it resulted in a lake that
extended in large part into Canada, and required a treaty between our two
nations. We rode much of the Eastern shore of the lake. In general, the
views of the lake were from a great height... between 1 and 2 hundred
feet above the surface. The road was carved into the sides of the
mountains which line the Lake valley. Needless to say, the scenery was
fantastic. Traffic was so light as to be almost nonexistent... but the
wind was a factor, as was the terrain, which consisted of a series of long
uphill and downhill stretches. Quite often we were riding alongside
cliffs that were sheer and 80 to 100 feet high. Mostly sedimentary rock,
it made me wonder what life was like on earth when the lowest levels of
the rock strata that we passed were deposited. We visited the Libby dam
at the south end of the lake and saw a short film on its construction, and
innovative features. For example, along the top of the dam there is a
massive crane structure that can travel on rails from one side of the dam
to the other. It is capable of lifting gates at various lake depths in
the wall of the dam to release water downstream of varying temperatures...
the deeper the gate, the colder the water. This ingenious temperature
control technique is used to maintain the downstream temperature of the
Kootenai river so as to promote, optimally, the growth of trout in the
river. As a result, the Kootenai is one of the "blue ribbon" trout rivers
in the world. We raced a series of rain clouds to Libby, getting only
slightly wet in the last six miles into town. We are checked into a
motel, and ready to take tomorrow off as a rest day before we stress
ourselves with an up and down near-century effort into Sandpoint, Idaho
and the Pacific time zone on Monday! We made it into town in time to find
the bike shop and buy a replacement rear tire for my bike. I am now set
with new tires front and rear, and should have no problems as we tackle
the last 600 miles or so to the end of our journey. Now that I have
finished two days riding without the trailer, I would have to say that
traveling without a trailer is preferable, and if I ever do similar
touring, It will be sans trailer... but with a strongly built rear wheel!
So it goes..." --ez
July 29
Another rest day, another laundry. We have about 7 more days of riding
left to complete the trek. Tomorrow will be the longest of the 7, at
close to 100 miles. It will also have some up and down as the elevation
profile indicates on our maps. The weather here in Libby is cool and
occasional patches of sun, as well as dark, threatening clouds. The
prediction for tomorrow is cloudy with scattered rain. Hopefully the wind
will be negligible.
One thing that I've noticed adout the towns in Northwest Montana is that
they seem to take a certain pride in their town "letter". On the bare
slope of some hill facing town is more often than not, a large white
letter painted or otherwise affixed to the hill, visible from throughout
the town. Libby has an 'L', Missoula had two, an 'M' and an 'L'... on
two separate hills. I can't remember specifics of other towns, but there
were at least a half dozen others. I wish I knew what it was all about.
I've also noticed that a lot of the homes in town have a good supply of
firewood in their yards, seasoning for the coming Winter. The one thing
about that wood is that very little, or none of it is hardwood... Chimney
cleaning must be big business out here! Not a lot is going on today.
Both Steve and I are catching up on world news, reading the "Spokane
Review" Sunday edition, serving both the Spokane, Washington & Coeur
D'Alene, Idaho communities. Of special interest is what's been going on
in Le Tour de France. I expect to do some more exploring of the town on
foot this afternoon... but mostly, the thought that our ride's end is in
sight is making us both think about reconnecting with our former lives...
So it goes... "--ez
July 30
"It was very good to get back on the bikes again this morning. Rest days
are beginning to get a little tedious... They are even worse when we camp
on a rest day, rather than use a motel. Tonight we are camping in the
town of Sagle, Idaho. It's just a few miles beyond Sandpoint. We
traveled a little over 103 miles today, and quite likely it will be our
last century ride on the trip. The passes in Washington are separated by
enough mileage, that we won't want to do more than one pass a day, so our
stopping points are limited as we begin to cross northern Washington state
tomorrow. We did a little climbing today, but it was hardly noticed...
the scenery, as usual, stole the show. What amazes me is that I'm
relatively new to this region, and I find myself getting used to it! We
began by following the Kootenai River out of Libby and soon came to
Kootenai Falls and an area of white water that looked like it might be
fun, if only we had a raft or kayaks. We were riding about 50 feet above
the river, looking down on the stone gorge it had cut over the millenia.
There were Bald Eagle and Osprey nests built high in the tops of bare
trees or man-supplied post with platforms. The air was cold, in the upper
30s or low 40s. Both Steve and I were getting our money's worth out of
our fleece jackets and our full finger gloves. We really didn't have any
places identified along today's route for the first 60 miles or so to stop
and buy food or drinks... so we were carrying some leftover food from
last night's dinner, as well as some bagels and fruit that we bought warm
from a bakery in Libby as we were leaving. We soon left the steady
downhill of route 2 and turned onto a Montana scenic byway to which words
simply cannot do justice. The road was rolling and winding and abolutely
surrounded by tree-covered mountains and ridges. No houses were along the
road, and it felt like we were alone since traffic was so light. We could
have been riding in Alaska, or Northern Canada, for all we knew. This
lasted about thirty miles as we followed the Bull River where it gradually
made its descent from Bull lake. Earlier we had passed alongside the
lake, and it's surface was smooth as glass, reflecting the hills, sky and
clouds, as well as a formation of Canada geese that flew about twenty feet
over its surface... Too bad neither Steve nor I had a camera at ready!
Once off of this scenic byway, we found ourselves on a busier road (200),
complete with logging trucks and narrow shoulder. This made for a more
white-knuckle time over to Lake Pend Oreille. Fortunately, ACA had us
take parallel roads rather than the busier 200 for much of the time.
Although there was considerable up and down at times, and the wind was in
our faces as it came off the water of the lake, it seemed that both Steve
and I were flying along. Our average speed for the day was 13.5 mph,
which I consider very good for the terrain. We passed into the Pacific
time zone as we crossed into Idaho.... and we also passed into a state
with sales tax! ...a rude surprise as we paid for some snacks! We had
gotten used to Montana and its zero sales tax policy. I am sitting at a
picnic table, typing this journal entry into the pocketmailer... but I
realize that it's already almost 9pm back East. There will be inevitable
delays in getting our last few days entries posted to the web site...
sorry, but So it goes..." --ez
July 31
"The one constant in today's ride was the Pend Oreille River (pronounced
Pon-doray...for those of you who didn't study French). We took some
absolutely beautiful backroads away from traffic (except for the
occasional logging truck) and had the river in our sight for most all of
today's 83 miles. In fact, we are camped on the shore of the river right
now, in the town of Ione (pronounced I-own), Washington listening to the
gentle lapping of the waves on shore. The river is quite wide, more so
than the Connecticut, and has many expensive homes lining it. Where we
are, at the moment, it looks like a lake, rather than a river, with a
large beach across an inlet from us. Skies are occasionally spitting
light rain, but there is just as much sunshine as clouds, with plenty of
breeze. Temperatures are in the 70s with low humidity. We are told that
the cool days are very unusual for this time of year... in fact, we met a
group of 6 cyclists (3 couples) who are staying in the area, as they do
each year at this time, and they claim the normal conditions are hot (90s)
and dry. It looks like Steve and I are using up more and more of our
weather luck!
When I said the roads were beautiful, I was mostly referring to the
scenery, as usual. Both Idaho and Washington must be taking advantage of
some "blue-light" special sale on chip coat this week, because of all the
miles of roads we traveled today, almost half were on recently coated
roads, with the accompanying loose gravel, oily smell, dust clouds and
vibrator sensation. In fact there were some dicey moments when we were
descending long hills at 30 mph in loose gravel where any sudden change of
direction or brake application could have sent us to the hospital with
severe road-rash. I wonder how many more back roads that we are about to
sample in the next few days are also taking advantage of the sale? We
have six more days to ride about 400 miles including 4 mountain passes
before we're done. But each day seems easier than the last. Today the
generally downhill terrain and wind at our backs from the south are the
explanation... We'll see what tomorrow brings.
We saw dozens of Osprey nests lining the roads as we went. The local
utilities build platforms on the tops of their poles to encourage nest
building. We saw as many as three birds in one nest one one occasion.
However, some power poles, perhaps dangerous to the birds, were set up
with special canopies to discourage nesting. I wonder from what
industrial catalog a municipality or utility can order an "anti-osprey
canopy"?
As usual, today there was a section of the route that was particularly
scenic. For a distance of about 5 miles, the road was narrow, without
traffic, lined with 60 to 70 foot pines on both sides of the road, right
up to the shoulder edges. The sun was off to our left, so the road itself
was alternately shaded and sunny depending on the spacing of the trees.
It was like riding in a tall hedge maze. Yesterday when we stopped for a
break a woman spoke to us about the local town's plans to cut the trees
back from so close to the edge of the road, because the deer were
constantly surprising drivers. In fact, she said, a cyclist ran into a
deer in such road conditions, and had to be taken to a hospital with a
broken ankle. The woman knew this, because she was a volunteer that day
in the town ambulance, and answered the call. She also said that the
first vehicle on the scene was an RV, which stopped, offered the cyclist
some aspirin with codine, and then drove off leaving him there... Can you
believe it! So it goes..." --ez
August 1
"We began today in a fog. The Pend Oreille River was coated in a thick
mist that completely hid the other bank. Our tent was soaked with dew.
We were both chilled with the damp conditions and the lack of sunlight.
Why is it that under circumstances like these, no one wants to be the
first out of the tent? We finally got moving at about 7am and made it all
the way to route 20 (3 miles) before stopping for some hot drinks
(cappucino from a machine). You might wonder what we are eating for
breakfast when we camp... particularly when we try to leave before any
stores open, or worse, if there are no stores nearby. Well, we've gotten
in the habit of carrying some ready-to-eat foods which we replenish as
they begin to run low. We usually carry Pop Tarts (strawberry - either
brand name or store brand, it doesn't matter). We also have a selection
of granola bars (Nature Valley peanut butter is a favorite). There's
usually a self-closing bag of beef jerky, and finally, we like to keep a
jar of peanut butter to either spoon raw, or slather on the pop tarts. If
we know in advance that we will be without a store that is open when we
want breakfast, the previous evening we will usually find a grocery store
(or "mercantile" as they are called in the smaller towns). We'll buy some
fruit (Bananas, grapes, or apples) and drinks (Gatorade or Powerade) to
supplement our usual provender when we wake. I should mention that
Powerade has been running a promotion over the Summer where under certain
caps is the possibility of winning free prizes or free 20oz bottles of
Powerade. So far We've won about a half dozen free bottles, two pairs of
sunglasses, two sports watches, and two music CDs. This morning we had
bananas, Powerade, Pop Tarts and Granola bars with some beef jerky as well
before we left camp. The cold weather was the reason for stopping for the
cappucinos.
Once we turned onto route 20 and away from the river, the fog cleared and
we began to climb steadily for about 4 and a half miles at about a 6%
grade. We were rewarded with a gradual downslope for about 15 miles into
Colville, WA. We quickly made it into Kettle Falls from there, and had a
decision to make. 1) Should we stop for the night in KF? It wasn't even
noon yet, so that was out of the question. 2) Should we continue on an
alternate route that would add 20 miles to our trek, but allow us to
travel on a lower traffic-volume road, and climb just one pass, rather
than two? The alternate route had no clearly defined places to stop for
at least 50 miles... too many questions without answers. 3) Should we
stick to the main route and climb Sherman Pass, the largest climb of the
entire journey? We felt strong, so we went with option 3. After crossing
the Columbia River, we immediately began what was to be a constant 23 mile
long climb between 4 and 6% grade for the most part! We managed to
complete the climb with a couple of rest stops, and got an exhilirating 35
mph ride down to the town of Republic 17 miles down from the pass. We are
staying in town having traveled 94 miles, averaging 12.8 mph and climbing
over one mile in accumulated vertical gain over the day! We spoke with a
local resident who said that often, bikers who arrive in Republic will
SEEK A RIDE over Sherman Pass! Steve and I feel great about having
conquered it without aid. By the way, my mantra song as I climbed today
was that Smothers Brothers classic, "Black is the color of my love's true
hair"... Don't as me how THAT jumped into my head! So it goes..."
--ez
August 2
"Today was a day of contrasts and a reaffirmation of my 'Conservation of
Goodness' law which, briefly stated says, there is a finite amount of
goodness which can be neither created nor destroyed, merely
redistributed... or restated in layman's terms, 'What goes around comes
around'... ;
Up until now, our impression of Washington State has been one of thick
forestation, cool nights and comfortable days, but after climbing Wauconda
Pass, and descending into the north-central part of the state, we got
reacquainted with baking heat, desert-like surroundings, and worst of all,
our nemesis the wind made a strong reappearance. In fact, if it weren't
for the low mountains that caused our road to wind in all directions as
well as up and down, we could have been back in North Dakota or Eastern
Montana.
First the pass... it was a minor challenge compared to Sherman pass, and
were over it before we knew it. I chanted the Monkees' "I'm Not Your
Stepping Stone" as I climbed... I had heard it on a commercial just
before we left, and unfortunately it stuck there for the whole climb...
:(
As we climbed, and we occasionally had a brief descent, it struck me how
cold the trough of the descent was compared to the upper edges. I guess
the colder air of the early morning was trapped in the trough, with the
warmer air rising above it. There was a noticeable point in the descent
where the temperature of the air would suddenly drop by 10 to 15 degrees..
much like a thermocline in the water when scuba diving! On the way down
the western side, what greeted us was a stiff wind in our faces,
frustrating on a descent that should have been a pleasure, but instead was
a struggle for bike control. The vegetation changed to sparsely scattered
pine trees, and sagebrush. It seemed to me that it would be a struggle
for farmers to eke a living out of the soil here, but the irrigation
provided by Coolee dam and the creation of the Franklin D. Roosevelt Lake
on the Columbia River has enabled the farmers to turn selected postage
stamp lots into green orchards and fields.
Previously, back East, when I shopped for Washington State apples, I had a
mental image of the lush, moist, 'fight-back-the-invading-vegetation' kind
of area from which they must have come. I now know that they are grown in
a desert where the farmers must constantly fight with irrigation to keep
the trees alive and productive. Regarding the wind, Steve and I had
different approaches... Steve considered the wind as a bully, to be
fought, and as a result he got tired and discouraged. I took more of a
Judo, or 'gentle way' approach to the conflict, where I sidestepped by
downshifting as soon as I felt myself straining, and tried to concentrate
on the scenery. It may have helped keep me from getting discouraged, but
it still took a long time to get here. "Here" is the town of Okanogan,
where we camp tonight and psych ourselves for an early morning climb of a
more significant pass, Loup Loup, or as they call it here, "the Loup".
There is a neat bike shop in town, and I spent some time talking with the
son of the owners. They carry some recumbents (Rans, Vision, Bike E), but
not the makes that Steve and I are riding. I heard some amusing stories
about first time bike tourists, refusing to use their granny gears to
climb because it "seems like I'm getting nowhere!". So they stay in high
gear, standing on the pedals and risking their knees, while still
traveling only 4 mph! Some sobering stories of cyclists who reached the
area early in a West to East trek, got discouraged and had their bikes
boxed and shipped home... ending a dream because they tackled too much,
too soon or with too little preparation. So it goes..." --ez
August 3
"I'm going to get this journal written before we complete our day's ride
because there is no phone service where we'll be camping tonight. I am
sitting at a picnic table under an umbrella in the town of Mazama, WA.
The sky towards Washington pass is very ominous and the wind is gusting
from all directions... something is definitely about to break! Today we
made it over Loup Loup pass climbing for most of the fourteen miles from
Okanogan. For a while, at the higher elevations, the surrounding forest
reappeared along with the sights and smells and risks of running into a
deer. However, climbing at 5 to 6 mph, there was no real risk of
collision! (The rain has started)
One sad thing that I noticed in the climb was the abundance of trash that
lined the road along the climb. There wasn't so much that someone would
be offended or even notice if they were driving along at 50-60 mph, but
from a bike, I saw hundreds of beer bottles, soda cans, drink cups,
sandwich wrappers, etc. The three places we chose to take a break and sit
in the sun were chosen at random, and probably typical... within sight of
each stopping point, there were at least half a dozen pieces of litter.
As in many of the states that we've been though, there are signs for
"adopt a road" programs. They identify groups or individuals that have
volunteered to take charge of or pay for the cleanup of sections of road.
The passes in Washington are no different, except that I notice that the
adopted sections are those parts of the road just within a mile of the
top. Things WERE cleaner near the top. I guess there is more prestige to
adopt the actual pass than the portions of the road leading up to the
pass!
Getting to Mazama, we passed through a couple of other towns, Twisp, and
Winthrop. There was nothing out of the ordinary about Twisp, but Winthrop
was a total surprise. It was as big a tourist trap kind of town as any
I've seen. This includes beach towns on the cape and resort towns in the
mountains. Cars lined the main street of Winthrop bumper to bumper, and
crowds of people walked the shops. It was hard to make a turn at a
crosswalk because of the neverending stream of people that were using the
crossing. There must have been 5 espresso shops, and a half dozen gift
shops with what you'd expect for western souvenirs... from cowboy hats to
painted cow skulls (with detatchable horns for ease of packaging). Steve
and I found a deli for lunch, I had a "cowboy calzone"... good and
reasonably priced, too. Mazama is 18 miles from Washingon Pass, the last
pass we do before our downhill ride to the salt water. We are planning to
ride 11 of those 18 miles and camp tonight in a Forestry Service primitive
campground near the top. That will make for an easy climb tomorrow
followed by a nice coast down to the town of Marblemount, where we will
stay for two nights. On Sunday, we hope to meet Libby, Adam, Tom and our
dog, Nellie and get reacquainted at a bed and breakfast near that town.
Monday will be our final day of riding, where we will reach the salt water
of the Pacific and get retrieved for some rest before taking a leisurely
ride back home to Connecticut.... At least that's the plan. It's hard to
believe that it's almost over. Today is the 56th day (8 weeks) of the
trek and it's gone incredibly smoothly, much faster than I imagined. The
rain has let up... I will fire this off and get back on the road for our
11 mile grind up towards the pass. So it goes..." --ez
August 4
"Yesterday evening was highly unusual. We left Mazama during a lull in
the bad weather, intending to do 11 miles of climbing up to Lone Fir
campground, some 6 miles shy of the pass. When we got 2 miles into the
climb, however, we met a group of cyclists descending, and they warned us
not to try going any further. They spoke of cold driving rain with 60 mph
wind gusts. Just as we were speaking to them, one of those gusts showed
up and convinced Steve and I to select a site in the lower camp, Early
Winters. After hastily setting up the tent and getting everything
waterproofed, the storm hit full force. We were grateful to have been
near enough to a campsite so that we could arrange shelter... This was
around 3pm. We both kept talking about how we would quickly pack up and
start climbing if we saw a break in the weather. We both managed to grab
a nap, and when we woke up the sky was blue... the sun was out... and
the wind was calm! The only problem was that it was 7pm, and we estimated
that the remaining climb to the upper camp would take a couple of hours...
putting us too close to dusk. We looked at one another in silence for
about a minute and then we started to race to get things packed for a late
evening climb. The terrain was not nearly as steep as we expected...
either that or our naps and an adrenalin rush gave us wings, but we made
it to the upper camp before 8pm! It was the one climb on this trip that I
made it to the goal before Steve! In spite of this small victory, he IS
the Mountain King.
Believe it or not, today was one of the most awkward weather days we had
on the trek. It didn't rain, but threatened to do so all day. There was
some sun, but not enough of it to warm us up, and the cool humid air of
the North Cascades was always making me wish that I were wearing my
fleece. However, with the climbing that we needed to do to get over
Washington Pass and some up and down action as we descended into the
Skagit River valley, it would have been too sweaty on the climbs and too
clammy on the descents. We did wear the fleeces (as well as full rain
suit as windbreaker and gloves), though, for the 8 miles of 30+ mph coast
down from Rainy Pass. It was enough to make us tolerably warm while
breezing downhill. The passes were an effort, but not nearly as much of a
challenge as Sherman was. We spent some time at the top of Washington
looking out over what we had just climbed, and the views were spectacular.
We had been told that Washington Pass was the equal of Logan Pass in
scenery, and I had my doubts. But it truly was breathtaking!
We are camped just west of Marblemount, WA in a campground that is very
moist... I saw a 4 inch jet-black slug near our site. However, what
makes this camp very odd is the hords of rabbits that are all over the
place. Apparently it is a point of attraction for the visitors to feed
and play with the tame, though wild, Lepi. In fact the attached
restaurant serves "Thumper Salad". Not what you think... It merely is an
all-vegetable salad. The restaurant decor included lots of stuffed
bunnies, and a picture of Robert Deniro (the actor, not the rabbit)...
who apparently stayed here during the filming of a movie in the nearby
town of Concrete. We did our last laundry of the trek... tomorrow is a
day off, during which we reunite with family, and plan for the final
shoreline rendezvous to end the trek! I plan on posting some detailed
specs on the trip as an epilogue to the journal... as well as gathering
some random thoughts into something coherent to tie it all up. I don't
know when that will appear, however. An interesting figure... today's
mileage put us over 4000 for the trek! So it goes..." --ez
August 5
"Today was another rest day... our last! We actually did another laundry
today... we decided to wash our tent and sleeping bags. Last night was
our last campout, since today we reunite with family (and dog!) and have
reservations to spend the night in a bed and breakfast nearby. The Clark
family that owns the rabbit-warren campground has a fascinating history in
the Northwest. One of the original members (Matilda?) was married to a
civil war veteran who was sent to a hospital in Seattle. She had the
equivalent of a PHD in education, and traveled up the Skagit river to the
area where she opened an inn and also homeschooled her own children as
well teaching Indian children. She is credited with naming the town of
Marblemount, and as the family grew over the years, the business evolved
into the campground, inn and associated tourist businesses. ...At least
that is my recollection of the family history highlights that are printed
in their restaurant menu! Today was my son Tom's 18th birthday, and the
host at the B&B was nice enought to arrange for a birthday cake! Steve
and I will leave after an early breakfast tomorrow, and travel the 70
miles, or so, into Anacortes. Nothing much more to add to the story
except for the finish... sometime tomorrow. So it goes..." --ez
August 6
"I'm sitting here at the end of the trek trying to come up with something
profound to write that would sum up how I feel now that my dream of biking
cross country is accomplished. Nothing comes to mind. When I first think
about any large task, before it's done... it seems impossible. looking
back... it seems unbelievable. Already I am asking myself, was it real?
I've tried to share the events of the trip in this journal, but it's
unlikely that even I will ever remember them all. I know in fact that
I've kept some of them for myself!
We went 75 miles in our fastest time of all 51 days of riding today...
even in the face of some offshore wind. I guess it showed how eager,
subconsciously, some part of Steve and I were to have the thing over with
at last. Today we did not see the sun at all... neither was there any
rain. It was cool, gray and misty in the distant hills. We arrived at
the shore to a small group of cheering relatives, touched the salt water,
and it was over. After a time I guess I will remember and tell some
details that have escaped me for the moment... I will at some time
summarize some random thoughts and e-mails about bike touring, equipment,
and direction that I've had over the course of the ride... but right now,
I am just grateful for all the good wishes and support that I've gotten
from relatives, friends, colleagues, and most of all I thank Libby for
letting me go, and Steve for pulling me along when I needed it. The ride
is over, but the adventure continues. So it goes..." --ez
