Saturday, June 4, 2022, Day 4
I had a frustrating start to the day. I kept losing the trails. All this was a user error. I had no trouble getting on the Issaquah-Preston path and that led me directly to the Preston-Snoqualmie path, but then I ran into trouble. First, I went the wrong way in Fall City. I got back on track and on the trail again, but it soon changed character and switchbacked up a very steep hill via a dirt single-track. I should have known this was wrong immediately, but I continued up it until it deadened. I reversed back to the road and then rode on it in Snoqualmie, which is a quaint town with great parks, all lush and green.
I then visited a waterfall with some paved trails. I searched on my phone for the Snoqualmie Valley Trail and then rode out to where it ends, apparently. But I didn’t know and kept going as it deteriorated to single-track, mud, and logs blocking the path until it also deadened. Ugh. I sent my location to Kraig and asked for help. He saved me, directing me to the Snoqualmie Valley Trail. This could have all been avoided if I had put the route into Google Maps. A dumb mistake by me.
I rode the Snoqualmie Valley Trail to Rattlesnake Lake (I wonder if they have a Ramble around this thing…). There I picked up the Palouse to Cascade (P2C) Trail, which would take me over Snoqualmie Pass via a 2-mile tunnel. I had four miles to ride on the trail before meeting up with Sheri. I passed one woman riding on the trail, who I would meet later.
Sheri had brought a chair and lots of good lunch food out to the intersection of the P2C and a feeder trail from the parking lot. I rested there for 45 minutes or so and then moved on. After a while, I caught up with the woman rider again. She immediately recognized me and was curious how I was passing her again. When I stopped for lunch with Sheri we were off the P2C just slightly, so she didn’t see us.
Shannon was out attempting her first 100-mile ride and closing in on fifty miles — her turnaround point. She was tired but as happy for the companionship as I was. One of the drawbacks of my trip is that I ride alone. I know Sheri doesn’t want to ride the whole way and having her along is essential for me, but it does leave me a bit lonely on the rides.
Anyway, Shannon used to work as the manager of the bike repair section of a shop, but she quit because of “sex discrimination in the workplace.” She said a co-worker slapped her on the butt and he was not disciplined in any way. In today’s environment, I’m surprised he’s still breathing.
Shannon turned around and soon thereafter I came across a guy with a fully loaded bike. Clearly, he was in it for the long haul. Merrill, a young guy who just graduated college, was riding across the USA as well, headed for Bar Harbor, Maine. That’s the endpoint of the Northern Tier bicycle route of the Adventure Cycling Association. I’ll be on that route for most of Montana and all of North Dakota. Maybe I’ll see me again.
As I approached the big tunnel (two miles long), I noticed six guys clustered at a picnic table and pulled over to say hi. A big guy says, “Nice rig!” I hop off and say, “It’s no big deal. Just an REI bike.” Another guy says, “He’s kidding you.” Now I think he’s dissing my bike, but he actually works at REI.
Chris Mahon, the big guy that first spoke, is chief stenciler at REI corporate headquarters. His gang of bikers and clearly looking for trouble. We exchanged some pleasantries and they noticed I was wearing a Leadville 100 jersey (I’m getting a lot of mileage out of this kit) and asked when I had done it. I couldn’t remember, but we found the date on my sleeve: 2013. One guy looked at me and said, “Clearly you were a lot skinnier then.” I was a bit surprised by that and looked down at my belly to see if it was bulging more than normal. Nope. In fact, it was unnaturally flat because my bibs are really tight and acted like Spanks. I realized that he was just joking and even if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t have bothered me.
Chris warned me that the was cold and that I should put on my jacket. I did as I was told and was very thankful for it. It was freezing in there and pitch dark. I was prepared with my headlamp, though. Once on the other side, I found Sheri again. She was so hot and so sleepy, but I was still cold from the tunnel. I did get warm here. I even felt a touch hot…for about 60 seconds and then a breeze came up.
I dropped my headlamp with Sheri and continued on. I still had 30+ miles to our campground. Unfortunately, there were more tunnels! One I could barely see the other side and just hoped the terrain was smooth. But one was longer with no end in sight. I decided I had to walk it. I used my phone as a light, but after a bit, I got back on and rode, holding my phone in one hand. It was only enough light to ride about 2 mph, but better than walking.
The P2C follows the Yakima River here and I crossed over it many times, on cool bridges. I got really tired of riding loose gravel, though. After 83 miles of that, I was ready to stop. Sheri found us a good spot at Eagle Valley campground and once I arrived, I started eating and never stopped.
This day gave me some serious appreciation of what Anton and Kyle can do on a bike. They ride twice as far in a day, carrying all their own gear on such terrain. That’s amazing, but they are professional athletes, after all.
This adventure was turning out to be very different from JMT hike we did last summer. Mainly because I ride alone and I’m not much of a loner. Stopping early and sticking to my 60-70 miles per day was the right thing to do. That way I can spend more time with Sheri.
Sunday, June 5, 2022, Day 5
It rained all night and temperatures were in the low 50s in the morning. We expected it and packed as much as possible in the car before going to bed, but the tent was soaked.
I rode back to the P2C and then 23 miles later we met at a very crowded iHop. I ate a ton here and we lingered, charging our devices and having a second cup of coffee. Between last night and this second breakfast, I think I’ll need to ride a hundred miles today to break even, calorie-wise. But I’m not going to do it.
My goal for the day was the Wanapum State Park Campground on the banks of the Columbia River.
Riding along the P2C I found that the track on the other side of the loose median always seems to be the smoothest. This reminded me of the idiom that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. And that made me think of my friend Spencer, who loves idioms. On that theme, a hundred years ago, people who tell graduates, “Go west, young man.” I’m not quite doing the opposite of that (“Go east, old lady”), but I’m close.
I caught up to an older couple on the trail. In fact, and maybe it is the time of the day and the day of the week, a high percentage of the people I see on the trails are…mature. Like me. This couple had just retired too, from work at the university (Central Washington University?). Each Sunday morning they have breakfast on their deck and go for a casual ride. That sounds nice.
A very nasty-looking storm was just to the north of me and I felt like I was running from it all day. At one point I turned directly toward it for a mile and wondered if that was a good idea. Thankfully, I was able to dodge it all day.
This trip is a different experience for me. I’ve always ridden my bike for exercise — either training or racing. Or maybe to run an errand. Now, it wasn’t for any of that. Sure, I’m getting exercise, but there are easier ways to get it. This trip is about seeing America and I’ve now set a goal to meet someone new each day.
I got very frustrated riding the P2C. It was slow and bumpy and paralleled a gravel road. I got off the trail and rode on the road. My views were the same. The riding was more pleasant. And the exact same amount of cars passed me: zero. There are definitely long stretches of the P2C that are just plain dumb. The grade is never more than 2% but the loose gravel makes any coasting impossible. If I stopped pedaling, I’d quickly come to a stop. The trail is very straight, too. Straight and flat is efficient for trains, but it gets boring for cyclists like me.
A long time ago I read a book called Computing Across America. It was about a guy riding a 300-pound recumbent bike with a fairing, solar panels, and tons of gear. He rigged up his handlebars with four buttons on each side and would write while he rode, but squeezing in the ASCII code of the letter he wanted. Crazy. He claimed to be able to type 40 words per minute. I could never do that and, nowadays, I don’t have to. When a thought comes to me (they do occasionally), I hit the microphone button on the Notes app on my phone. Then I just talk into my phone. Cool.
My phone is everything to me on these rides. Chiefly, it is my navigation tool, but, nearly as important, it is my communication device. Yes, you can talk to other people with these phones. That said, Sheri and I mostly text each other. I can respond to text messages with the microphone as well. Yes, Siri is pretty terrible at taking dictation while riding a bike with wind noise, but I usually get my point across. My phone is also my entertainment system. I listen to music, podcasts, and audible books. When I went through the tunnels, my phone served as my headlamp. And now, it is my secretary, taking my dictation. What a wonderful device it is. Because I use it so much, I ride with a small battery brick that I keep in my saddlebag. When my phone battery gets low, I wind the cable along my top tube and plug it into my phone, which is mounted on my handlebars (via a Quad Lock — highly recommended).
The riding is going well for me. My biggest problem is my neck and left shoulder. After 30 miles or so, it even hurts my shoulder when I swallow. That is so strange. I hope it gets better. My other area of discomfort is my butt. I try to move around on the saddle a bunch, to get different positions, and will stand and pedal for more relief. I knew these were going to be my problem areas and maybe in a couple of weeks, they will go away.
Back to that book. After reading it, I thought it should be retitled, “Bagging Babes Across America,” because he wrote about that a lot. He would ride onto college campuses and be quite the spectacle with a 300-pound bike and it proved a ready conversation starter. Obviously a personable guy, he did alright with the ladies. If bike weight is directly proportional to babe bagging then I’ll be lucky to bag one.
As I neared the campsite, I had to climb a significant hill. It was covered in windmills and I could see that I had a tailwind. I like climbing on a bike. It is slow, but I know I’m going to be repaid with a descent at some point. Here the payoff was immediate. I had a long, smooth descent where I must have gone five miles without pedaling. I found out that I’m completely spun out on my gravel bike at 37 miles an hour and that it’s quite hard to get any pressure on the pedals even at 30 mph. But, seriously, unless you are in a race, you don’t need to be pedaling faster than 30 mph. I enjoyed the coast.
Once down, I had just three miles to go. It was a bit uphill and I now fought a crosswind and my speed slipped below 10 mph. No matter. Sheri found us a nice spot that was somewhat sheltered from the wind, which did die down. After relaxing and eating, we walked around the campground and talked to some of our neighbors.
Monday, June 6, 2022, Day 6
We met a retired guy in the campground last night. He was making a big loop out west from his home in Whitewater, Colorado (near Grand Junction). He noticed my Denver Broncos pajama bottoms and struck up a conversation. When we heard about our trip he said, “Wow, the planning for my trip was extensive, but I can’t even imagine the planning you must have done.” Sheri and I looked at each other, and she said, “We’re just winging it.”
I did have a lot of the first week planned, but the rest of the route was super rough and I did no research on where we’d sleep each night. Sheri had been handling this each day and doing a great job finding good campsites and then texting me the directions. The goal for today was to get to Lind, but Sheri couldn’t find any campgrounds there. We hoped to find someplace to throw up our tent.
I headed out early today — at 7 a.m. — my earliest start of the trip so far. I wanted to give us more options. The planned day was already going to be over 80 miles and then I had to add 6 more miles to get to Beverley, where we were supposed to camp, but there was nothing there either. So, I knew it might be a long day in the saddle.
On the plus side, this was the first morning where I started off with no armies and no leggings. I rode in shorts and short sleeves all day. And had considerable sunshine today, though plenty of clouds as well. I narrowly avoided my first 70+ degree day, as it got to 68 degrees on the route.
I started by riding six miles south along the massive Columbia River, passing the Wanapum Dam, which is just 185 feet high, but 8,320 feet wide. It produces 1.2 GW of power. Dams work on potential energy, which is calculated by: mgh, where m is mass, g is the Earth’s gravitational constant, and h is the height. Hence, a dam doesn’t need to be really high to produce a lot of power, provided it has a lot of water going through it. The Columbia River is a lot of water.
The bridge at Beverley is strictly for bikers and hikers…and horses judging from a couple of piles I noticed. This is a key bridge on the Palouse to Cascade (P2C) trail and it just recently opened, this year. I picked up the P2C on the other side and rode it for five miles or so before I ran into a closure sign and another sign directing me to the detour, which was Lower Crab Creek Road. This road is gravel and is basically a wider, smoother version of the P2C. In fact, I don’t see the point of the P2C here. You’d think, “Duh, Bill, the lack of cars on the trail.” But I didn’t see a single car on this road. In fact, I rode on the left side of the road or the middle, trying to find the smoothest, hardest path. I didn’t get passed by a car for the first 28 miles of my day and only did get passed when I eventually got to a state highway.
For most of the day, I had a terrific tailwind. If I was out for a normal ride, I’d have to return to where I started and then have to fight the headwinds. But I’m not returning. I’m relentlessly headed east. It’s no wonder people almost always ride cross-country from west to east.
I met Sheri in Othello. I got their first and laid down in the grass near Burger King. I’d done 48 miles in well under three hours. I had a breakfast sandwich here and refilled my bottles. We looked at the map and Sheri decided to get to Lind early and find a place to sleep.
I rode some more highway, but with a good shoulder, and then eventually got back on the P2C, but a paved road parallels it. I started riding the trail, but it basically sucks. Rough, loose, slow. What’s the point? Once again, ZERO cars passed me on the road next to the trail. I can’t explain why there are such nice roads out here and no cars on them. I got onto those roads and rolled.
All-day long I rode past farms. Endless fields of wheat and peas. The last ten miles to Lind were really hilly: up and down. I enjoyed this. Some variety in the angle was a nice change from flat, flat, flat. I found Sheri at a small park, next to some small houses, in Lind. I’d done 87 miles so far. This site would have worked, but it was close to the railroad tracks and these rails were used, regularly.
I had some more food and drink and we decided to go clear to Ritzville and get a hotel room. I loved this decision and so did Sheri. I arrived at our hotel at 3:45 p.m. after riding just under 108 miles — my longest day so far, by twenty-five miles.
Before I got there, I passed three guys working on a really wide tiller (or something like that). I stopped to talk to them. All were family farmers and one pointed out his house, a mile away. His farm is 10,000 acres and he works it with four total people. Four? He does this because he does not irrigate his fields, reducing capital and labor…and also yields. Because of that, and the dry climate, he can’t only plant his fields every other year. So, he only actively works 5,000 acres.
For dinner, we went to the highly-rated Jake’s Diner. The food was good and the service was great. I was enticed by the promise of homemade donuts. Alas, they were out. Our waitress needed to ask a question of the older waitress and tried to get her attention: “Annie, Annie Annie. Mom.” I love family restaurants.
Back at the hotel, we watched the Colorado Avalanche sweep the Oilers to go to the Stanley Cup Finals. Then we went to the hot tub — might as well take advantage of all the amenities.
I go on crazy riffs sometimes with Sheri. Sometimes it’s funny and sometimes not. I was rambling on one of these rants when Sheri informed me, “I stopped listening to you awhile ago.” This is why we’ve gotten along so well after nearly 35 years together.
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