Wayne Goes Cycling

Climbing Uphill into Smoke and into the Wind
(73 miles and 2600 feet of climbing)

I had grand plans for this day.  I was going to ride to West Yellowstone (71 miles) and then another 33 miles to Old Faithful where the SAG van would pick us up in the evening.  The vans would be making several shuttle trips so people could see some of Yellowstone without having to ride there … so hooking a ride back was not a problem.  I got up at 5:00 and began to get ready.

The Ennis High School home- economic class put on another great meal in the morning.  The doors opened at 6:30 and most everyone was on the road by about 7:15.  The ride through downtown Ennis was nice and I was anxious for the slight uphills because I had fewer clothes than the weather required and was counting on exertion to warm me up.

After crossing the Madison River the grade was slightly uphill.  The view to either side was of vast grassland and pasturelands.  As we continued riding at a slight grade, I was able to see the outlines of the mountains to the left and to the right, but I was unable to see anything through the fog ahead.  I figured that as the sun came out the fog would lift and the mountains would become visible. 

The ride went on like this for about 18 miles and then at about 9:30 a wind kicked in.  It was a stiff wind that was a direct headwind.  I suppose that wind in a canyon either goes up-canyon or down-canyon otherwise you would never notice it.  This was very noticeable and the pleasant 14 MPH ride up-canyon became a struggle to maintain 9 MPH.  We were all in shock; we had not been expecting such a formidable wind. 

The wind went on mile after mile and everyone was getting tired.  It was especially distressing to find that we needed to pedal on the few downhills of the day.  Downhills are supposed to be fun and the reward for the work of going up-hill.  Also the fog ahead didn’t lift and the air had a very slight smell of burnt pine needles.  As I mentioned this to another rider they said that there were forest fires near West Yellowstone.

As I went along, I remember readjusting myself on the seat and noticed a soft bounce instead of a hard bounce, I noticed that my rear tire had deflated.  Additionally, the front tire was also low on pressure.  So it was maintenance time and I ended up changing the tubes on both front and back wheels.  I also found out that it was impossible to patch a tire in a strong wind; it is not possible to hear the leak or feel the leak.  (Both problems were unpatchable valve stem leaks).

After the repair, I struggled along to mile 33 for the Picnic Stop.  There were some folks nearby from the Montana Fire Service and they said that the fire was close to being contained and that the roads were open.  However, it is possible that things could change. 

Peter from the UK and I left.  We were both considering the ride to see Old Faithful and if we made good time we would still do it.  Peter is very tall, sits high in the seat and is steady and unstopable.  I was able to ride behind him and let him do the wind breaking for me.   It didn’t make sense for me to try to ride in front of him because he is so tall it doesn’t matter and he never follows closely behind anyways.

We continued on and eventually came to where we had a choice to go Route A or Route B to West Yellowstone.  We took Route B along Quake Lake.  We stopped at the visitors center and learned that the lake was formed in 1959 when an earthquake filled in the valley and impounded the water.  It was apparently quite a catastrophic event with 30 campers killed. 

The road around Quake Lake and another huge reservoir was beautiful with the mountains on one side and the lake on another.  We could very clearly see the smoke rising from the forest fire.   There were plumes of black smoke from where water or chemicals were being dropped on the flames from tanker planes.    

We continued to ride and eventually went east of the fire and then turned south toward both the fires and West Yellowstone.  The smoke was not nearly as bad as I had been afraid it would be … but it wasn’t fresh, clean mountain air.  We talked to a fire marshal manning a vehicle at the intersection with a “Fire Information” sign on it.  She said not to worry, just be careful because there were lots of gawkers on the road.  I followed Peter as he ride quickly down the road and the smoke would get better and worse.  We could see the smoke rising to our right and it didn’t seem too far away.   Once we  were past it, the air was noticeably cleaner. 

At the RV camp, we sent up tents and watched the smoke and the planes and the helicopters and worried about the smoke impact of a shift in the wind.  After dinner, we noted that the smoke was now gone.  Apparently, the fire fighters had a good day and we were all thankful.

To Ennis (It’s Still Montana)
(76 miles and 3200 feet of climbing)

Morning was the usual routine, take down the tent.  Have a wonderful breakfast and begin riding.   The morning air was just too cool for comfort, but not cold enough for anything over my jersey.    The road disappeared into the horizon with snow peaked mountains in the distance.  I think that we are going all the way to those mountains, but I’m not sure.  If we are going that far then I will be greatly impressed.  We had been seeing signs for a Montana Wheat bakery outlet for many miles, and this morning it would be on our way about mid-morning.

Along this route, I glance to the right and saw a deer darting toward the road.  It stopped and went sideways and looked toward the road standing still.  I heard a line of vehicles behind me and saw a bunch of vehicles coming at me in the other lane.  I raised my left arm and frantically waved it then I pointed toward the deer.  I think the cars slowed and then the deer darted across both lanes without any incident.  Don’t know if I helped, but I will take imaginary credit.

One of the unusual sights was a group of about 30 touring bikes with panniers heading west.  I wasn’t able to find out who they were or where they were heading.  They all had flag pole with orange triangle flags flapping in their wake. 

When I pulled into the Montana Wheat bakery outlet, about half of the group was already there and chowing down on gooey stuff.  I decided that this was a stop not to miss, so I got a cream cheese cinnamon bun with a dark roast coffee.  It was good!  It seemed a little funny to have such a large group together without it being an officially sanctioned meal.

As we continued on over I-90, the Jefferson River was now on our left and the valley was spectacular.  The river was more like an estuary at this point … wide with many marshy islands.  The road was sometimes good and sometime not.  Traffic was light, but there were many trucks that were frequently a challenge whenever there was oncoming traffic.  Otherwise they usually gave us a wide berth as they went around us.  Sometimes the road was curvy and they couldn’t do that. 

After a while we came to the Parker Homestead state park.  It was an old log cabin built in 1910 and lived in until the 1950’s or 60’s.  It was now devoid of the interior walls and wood floors and was just a shell.  The roof was sod with grass growing out of it.

Continuing on down the road, we eventually crossed the Jefferson River and began a four mile climb that was wonderful.  It was not too steep and the scenery was great (of course downhill would have been better).  We started in a narrow valley and by the time we reached the top, it had opened up into wide rolling grasslands with trees scattered here and there.  There was a nice downhill and soon we were at the Picnic Stop. 

After the Picnic Stop, we went down some more until we reached the last climb of the day.  Everyone was dreading it.  It turned out to be not too difficult for me … when I got tired, I stopped.  I did this frequently.  As we climbed higher, a tail wind became more noticeable and finally at the top it was roaring.  After stopping for pictures, the group stated down.  I waited till last.  It was supposed to be a fast downhill.  I was not looking forward to it.  I kept the speed down to about 30-35 MPH and my fingers were frozen to the handbrakes.  At the very bottom when the road was straight and there was no traffic, I let it climb to 40 MPH.  Others said they were just below about 55 MPH and they loved the swoosh. 

The school where we were staying was just down the road a few short miles and the tailwind made it pretty fast.  The shy was absolutely clear over most of the sky, but it was dark and threatening somewhere in the direction I was heading.  By the time I reached Ennis, the sky was clear overhead, but not to the east.   The tents were set up on the front lawn and it was windy for the next few hours.  I was glad that I had all my luggage to use as an anchor.

Dinner was really great.  It was essentially Mexican with rice, refried or black beans, shredded beef or chicken, salsa, guacamole, sour cream, tortilla chips, salad, fruit AND dessert.  It was great.

After dinner I went downtown and stopped in a bar that looked like it was frequented by locals (Longbranch, if I recall).  I had one (just one) bottle of Sierra Nevada and talked about the Soldier’s Heart to the bartender.  He said that he was a Vietnam veteran and had spent time at a vet center to help out others after they had returned.  He was very grateful for the materials and knew how to get them into the hands of others who could distribute them in other places.
 

The Pace Line To Townsend
(91 miles and 2700 feet of climbing)

Sleeping in the school cafeteria/gym can be easy to get used to.  Almost everybody had slept inside because of the cold and wind.  It was supposed to be about 30 degrees overnight.  The lights had gone off at 9:00 PM and they went on at 6:00 AM.  In the meantime, everybody slept.

Breakfast was an egg casserole with potatoes.  Large muffins and oatmeal were also available.  I enjoyed the coffee … something that I have not had much of in the last week.   After packing up, I decided that today would be the day for the “picture.”  I had wanted to get a picture of my bike with my two huge, heavy duffle bags hung off the back like rear panniers.  It took about four of us to arrange the shot and it was a good one. 

It was somewhat cold and we all had cold weather gear on.  Then the ride began with an 11 mile trek eastward out of town. There was a slight upward grade and I hoped that every foot I climbed now would be one less foot needed to get over the Fleicher Pass.  I turned on the road that led to the pass and the incline increased.   After a short while up the road, it was time to remove some clothes.  As I stopped, a man in a pick-up truck pulled into the same road entrance and struck up a conversation.  He was a retired Lutheran Minister and was looking for a fishing access road.  I talked about Soldier’s Heart and gave him a couple of bumper stickers.  I asked him to leave them at a church if he didn’t have another home for them.

Continuing on, the road ascended the left wall of the canyon and the right side dropped down pretty far.  As it twisted and curved toward the top, there were spectacular views of the valley we had been in just a half hour (or more) earlier.  Toward the top, we could see the snow capped mountains in the distance.  Finally, I  saw the orange water jugs of the Water Stop.  I was pleasantly surprised because I had expected another 500 feet of climbing based on my bike altimeter.  The pass was about 6100 feet instead of 6600 feet that I thought it was.  Because this was the continental divide, it warranted photos. 

As I began the trip down the pass, I saw a pair of biking gloves on the side of the road and did a screeching stop to pick them up … obviously dropped by one of our gang.  The rest of the trip down was fast and I kept my speeds down to under 35 or so.  There were lots of sharp turns so it was good to keep the speed down.  The downhill went on for miles.  Eventually I noticed that the downhill effect was being counteracted by the effect of a headwind. 

Necessity, being the mother of invention, encouraged a number of us to form a pace line to help us ride into the wind.  Eventually there were six of us and we each took two minutes leading the ride into the wind.  This worked well … even though there were many of us who had little experience with a pace line and we all knew the downfall of this activity would be if anybody touched someone else’s wheel.  Therefore, we needed to watch the wheel of the person in front of us instead of the scenery.  We rode in this manner for about 10 miles until Robert’s seat broke. 

The bolt holding his seat on snapped and we needed to call in the SAG wagon to pick him up.  Our shortened pace line continued through Montana’s ranch country with horses and lots of open fields for livestock. 

At the Picnic Stop, the lunch special was very good (some kind of chicken and vegetable dumpling).  Robert showed up in the SAG wagon and his bike was easily repaired.  The next phase included a first … riding in an Interstate Highway (I-15) through Helena.  We were told to stay way to the right on the shoulder (they were wide) and to be very careful at the on and off ramps.  We were only going two exits for about 7 miles. 

Everything went according to the plan, except for one overpass where there was no shoulder to speak of.  Fortunately the traffic was light and they were courteous enough.  Once we go off, there was a left turn and another busy bridge with no significant shoulder.  The next few miles were a mixture of commercial / mall / auto-dealers.  Eventually this gave way to open range land with mountains in the distance. 

If I understood the plan, we were to ride to those mountains in the distance, go around or over them and ride some more. 

As it turned out, that is exactly what we did.  Once we got to that mountain, there was a gradual rise to go over the low southern end and then it opened out onto a vast area with a huge body of water.  The water was Ferry Lake and it was made by damming the Missouri river.  There were mostly grasslands and very few pine or cottonwood type trees.  The road gradually descended in a straight line down for miles.  It was a very pleasant descent, except I was getting very tired of being on my seat.   

Eventually the downhill ended and we crossed the bridge over the Missouri River and entered Townsend.  We camped at the school and dinner was provided by members of the Lutheran church.  This was supposed to be the best meal so far and it was.  It was chicken cordon bleu with all the fixings.

Afterwards, I stopped by the American Legion Post 42 in Townsend and dropped off some brochures and bumperstickers.  Then I met Peter from thr UK in a bar and eventually I needed to return with brochures and bumperstickers for those that were there.

The Un-Nameable Day
(80 miles and 2900 feet of climbing)

Today was a day like all the others, but one for which there is no clear name.  There are so any contenders:

The Coldest Day
The Windiest Day
Sailing Along
A River Runs Through It (This is where the movie was based)
Flying Over the Handlebars
Don’t Drink and Drive
To Lincoln, the Home of ‘Lincoln Logs’
Avoiding the Rain Showers
Hail to the Riders

We got up about 5:00 AM and started to get ready for packing gain.  It had been nice to be in one place for two nights.   However, something didn’t look right.  It was raining.  I guess the 30 percent chance of rain was not working in our favor.   The dorm began to look like an ant hill with movement in all directions.  The mass of movement eventually drifted over to the cafeteria for a great campus breakfast. 

Soon enough, it was time to go.  I joined a group of about 20 departing souls fully dressed in our finest rain gear.  I was glad that I had gotten a long sleeve jersey at Adventure Cycling last night.  As we headed out of town, the group continued to spread out.   The rain was generally a cold, light rain and not too distracting.  The traffic thinned as we headed out and the road became pretty enjoyable with sweeping curves and rolling hills as it followed a small river upstream out of town. 

I was feeling strong and rested from the day off.  I remember thinking “Hey, my seat doesn’t hurt and my knees don’t hurt!  This is nice, even if it is raining.”  The canyon walls and pine trees still dominated the landscape.  Eventually the rain slackened and there were patches of blue sky.  After the first water stop, I looked back and saw the entire sky grey, but with a mountain completely illuminated by sunlight.  It was worth a picture or two.  The scenery changed to more open land with rolling hills and mountains in the distance.  The grey clouds made it look dreary, but hopefully it would continue to clear up. 

The good news is that the weather cleared up and the better news is that a tail wind kicked in.  I was making good time without much effort.  Then it happened.  A mile or so before the picnic stop, I decided to finish off a bottle of Gatorade so I could stay hydrated and refill it.  I had slowed down and as I was putting the water bottle back into the cage, I was steering with my left hand.  I noticed that I had wobbled too close to the edge of the road (grassy with some sand) and decided that I would not be able to correct this so I would just slow down, unclip and go off the road for a controlled restart.  Suddenly, I was on the ground with the bike on top of me.  I assume that what happened was that the rain had softened the sand and as soon as the wheel touched the sand it slowed.  Still having only my left hand on the handlebar, my weight pushed the left side forward, the wheel instantly turned 90 degrees and became planted.  The front of the bike stopped and I continued over the handlebars.  My thigh pivoted over the right handlebar which had just moved in front of my thigh.  I am sure I said bad words.  Nothing injured … just a sore elbow and sore thigh.  Bike was OK with the left shifter twisted (easily untwisted).

The lunch stop happened; I re-lubed my chain, and began pedaling again (after a couple ibuprofen from Jody).  Then the weather became interesting.  The sky was mostly clear with occasional dark clouds all around.  One cloud to the left was visibly dumping rain on a mountain … dark cloud and underneath it was white fog (rain) and the mountain was shrouded.  It was perfectly clear everywhere else.  This rain cloud was being blown in the same direction the wind was blowing us.  As I pedaled along, we were moving at about the same speed and I thought about going faster, or slower, to avoid getting rained on.  As it turned out, it moved faster than me and I only got a little hail and the opportunity to ride on wet pavement. 

The wind was now getting more blustery and was typically behind us, but it was pretty variable and would sometimes come from the sides too.  There were some really nice rolling hills and great down hills in this section.  The ride into town was uneventful with a huge, chaotic tailwind.  After reaching the school, I decided to ride around town some more. 

I went looking for places to leave bumper stickers and literature.  Eventually I stopped at the Blackstone Valley Dispatcher and talked with a woman about Soldier’s Heart and left some materials.  She didn’t seem too interested with this cycling stranger and his message.  She suggested that I also try the Blackstone Valley Bible Church … which I did.   The reception was more positive and the woman I talked to said her daughter was in Baghdad and was aware of the PTSD issues.   Finally I went to a bar I had seen.  I talked with a couple of people about Soldier’s Heart.  One person mentioned that his father was in WWII and never talked about it until he was in his seventies.   Then he would sometimes talk about it and his eyes would tear-up as he relived the stories.  The fellow commented that it must have been something to live with all that bottled up inside.  Then it was time to go back to the school.

Another fine dinner in a school cafeteria.

No blog today.  Just had local pastries courtesy of Carol and welcomed the eight new arrivals to the group.

Oh! In the evening, we rode to the headquarters of Adventure Cycling Association (http://www.adv-cycling.org) so we could see where modern cross country cycling first began in 1976 as a TransAmerican ride.   As I think about it, that may be the event that started my longing to ride across America.   That was the summer my bike and bike lock were separated and Istopped biking for over ten years.   

Inclined to Missoula
(104 miles and 2800 feet of climbing)

With the time zone change, not everybody go up at the crack of 5 AM (Mountain Time).  My alarm went off at 6 AM (it thought it was 5 AM) because cell phone hadn’t gotten a signal in Montana.  However, I was up and nearly packed when that happened.   Then it was load the truck, pack the bike, and water up (“Blimey if it ain’t Gatorade again today”), and headed out to the Eagles Lodge for another fine breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, potatoes and ham.  I also had a piece of the carrot cake that was left over from the previous night.

I dropped off a few Soldier’s Heart brochures and nearly a dozen bumper stickers.

Then I headed out.  The ride was to be one of the best ever for the next 70 miles.  I felt good, strong and determined not to “bonk” by keeping myself fueled adequately.  I also remember thinking that “I hadn’t thought about my seat hurting at this morning … wow!” so I must be getting broken in pretty well.  The other mornings, I remember dreading the first time I’d put my butt on the seat in the morning.

I crossed the Clark Fork river again and the road went along the north side of the river.  Because we were following the river upstream, there were only a minor ups and down (up to 60 – 100 feet) along the rolling hills.  Canyon walls to the left; river to the right with the other canyon walls beyond, Beautiful!  Then I noticed that we were also following the railroad upriver too.  There was a pretty good tail wind and it was easy to maintain a 22 MPH speed on the flats.  What a great ride!  Everybody loved this morning’s ride.   

At the town of Wild Horse, I encountered (81 year old) Neil from Oregon who was doing well today.  As I rode by, I saw the big letters of a VFW post and decided to see if I could drop off some literature.  The front was closed, but the back entrance to the office area was open.  So I went in and gave them a short introduction to myself, Soldier’s Heart and my ride.  I left them with a small bunch of brochures and Bumper Stickers.  They wanted to know how to make a donation and realized that everything was on the Soldier’s Heart website ( http://www.soldiersheart.net).

Continuing on, I got to the first water stop where there was also a small county-wide tag sale.  I introduced myself to some of the people at the tables and offered some literature and some bumper stickers.  A nearby customer asked for “one of those bumper stickers because I’m a disable vet.”  A discussion then ensued among them about how they were afraid that existing veteran’s benefits would be cut to pay for the new wave of disabled vets.   They all concurred that the Walter Reed Hospital debacle was only the tip of the iceberg of neglect for veterans and how that this wasn’t right.

Continuing on, the canyon opened up into grasslands with mountain cliffs in the distance.  At some points you could see snow peaked mountains in the distance.  More rolling ups … and rolling downs … with a tail wind … wonderful!
At the picnic stop, there were Taco fixings for the daily special along with the usual stuff.  There were a number of dogs hanging around that belonged to a five year old boy that lived across the street.  He was so cute and he was on a little bike with hand brakes.  H complained about how hard they were to use and we lubricated them and made a few adjustments.  However, the biggest problem was that his rear brake was assembled backwards and that this added a 180 degree turn in the cable that was hard for his little hands to overcome.  We told him to ask his father to switch the two parts around.  One of his dogs sneaked up and ran away with Robert’s (from the UK) lunch. 

Continuing on the ride continued to be wonderful hen we turned on to the section we had been warned would be less pleasant.  Rumble strips to avoid for most of the distance and lots of traffic.  It was to be one of the least favorite sections of road for the entire trip.  Judy from Michigan got pulled over by the police for riding the left of the rumble strips and told to ride to the right of them.  “It’s better to risk a flat with all the glass and debris in the on the shoulder than to have a run in with a vehicle,” he said. “Not everyone is courteous on this road,” he added.   As it turns out he was right.  Linden from Maine recounted being missed by six inches by a truck with a trailer full of logs when the driver had two lanes in his direction and nobody in the other lane.   There were numerous stories of flat tires that afternoon.

This part of the ride was also remarkable for its optical illusions.  The road had an ever so gentle upward slope that went on for miles and miles.  It was so gentle that only my altimeter let me know that I was climbing and not going along the flat.  Even when it looked like you should be going downhill, the altimeter continued to register an increase in altitude.  The phrase “I’m ‘inclined’ not to like this approach to Missoula” was a phrase I kept repeating to myself. 

Ultimately there was a great downhill.  We had climbed about 800 feet since the last water stop and we lost about 700 feet in a short distance.  It was a double lane down and I grabbed the right lane.  I hit 40 MPH and it was smooth and straight.  No vehicles were behind me during the entire descent.

The rest of the ride into Missoula was uneventful … past the airport … onto a bike path … to the dormitory.

The evening included a trip to the Iron Horse and more than a few beers with dinner. 

A “Rest Day” was coming. 

To Montana
(69 miles and 2750 feet of climbing)

Five AM came along at about the right time … but today I wasn’t ready.  Possibly it was the trip to the pub and the beer last night, or staying up late to do the blog entry.  Whatever, it took me until 5:40 to get up and going.  I knew that breakfast wasn’t going to start until 6:30 so I had time.  Breakfast was pretty good; eggs, sausage, pancakes milk, OJ and fruit at the school cafeteria. 

The day was real nice.  It was a little on the cool side and because I had been moving slow, I was among the last to leave.  After a mile, I added my raincoat as a windbreaker because it was too cool for comfort.  The bike path was not the place to generate a lot of body heat, so I figured eventually I would need to take it off.  We rode the bike path back about 6 miles and took a right onto the road that followed the river upstream.  The road had little traffic and was a pleasure to be on.  The river was very picturesque and the sun was bright.  Clusters of trees provided intermittent shade.  Whenever we were in the sun, it was warm, when we were in the shade, it was cold.

Continuing up he road, we finally came to a place where the route sheet noted a Husky Station where one could get ice cream.   We had all been made aware of how good the Huckleberry ice cream was.  So I stopped and joined a group of our cyclists.   had a large scoop and I thought it was good.

I mentioned to the attendant that I was riding trying to raise awareness for Soldier’s Heart and offered him a brochure and a bumper sticker.  He said “We have a lot of folks here who support the troops” and when I suggested that I should leave more bumper stickers, he said that he would leave them out for people to take.  So I left a half dozen.

We continued up the road and up the river.  Jody saw a moose and her calf cross the street just in front of her.  I think she gets the animal sighting of the day award.  We then turned onto a road with the ominous name of “Thompson Pass Road.”  It was a beautiful road that had a very slight upward slope. I continued along and there was a river on the right.  After a while, the grade began to be steeper and then it began to be a full fledged climb to the heavens.  I had been unsure of how high this pass would be, but Peter from the UK had a map that said 4600 feet.  Because we had started at about 2000 feet and had already climbed 1300 feet already … so it looked like another 1300 feet to climb in the remaining short distance. To the picnic stop at the top 

I was running low of energy today and eventually, I needed to stop about every 200 feet of vertical or so to fill up on water, sugar and air.  It was really hot in the sun and my arms were getting really warm in the sun.  The climb up was as beautiful as it was exhausting.  As I think about the view  on the way up, the word “breathtaking” has a double meaning.

Eventually I reached the top and was greeted by the CycleAmerica picnic tent.  Today’s special was chicken-sausage dogs.  They were good, but not very high in carbohydrates.  I wandered over to an RV owned by an elderly couple with their adult children.  I chatted about the trip and when I eventually mentioned that we were doing this for charity, they decided that it was time for them to get back on the road again.  Then they left.

I began the ride down the hill.  Going downhill is the best reward for a climb.  It was really steep and I used the brakes to keep the speed between 30-35 MPH.   I tried to make myself big by sitting up straight with my elbows out, standing up, to act like a parachute to keep me going slower … it worked sometimes, but frequently the brakes were needed to maintain a comfortable speed. 

As the downhill continued, we lost over 2000 feet quickly and then the downhill became much more gradual.  It was pleasant cruising along through the pine forest.  After a while the continuous downhill gave way to rolling hills and I was despondent about how hard it was to get over even tiny rolling hills.  I had no energy at all.  I was not the only one … because later in camp I heard others ask if it we possible to fall asleep on a steep downhill ride.   They were tired too.  Possibly there was sleeping powder in the air.

I struggled to continue on and eventually we go to the main road to Thompson Falls.  Turning toward town, there was a big highway bridge over the Clark Fork River.  It was so beautiful that I needed to stop for pictures … both upstream and downstream.

I rode through town and on to the high school where we were staying.  Once there I saw that there were some tiny hills in the driveway and I remarked that I’m glad there isn’t another ten feet to climb.  I took a while to rest, drink more Gatorade and recover some amount of strength to shower, put my tent up and go to dinner.  Also, when I put sunscreen on in the morning, I must have covered everything except the most obvious parts because my fore arms were reddened and hurt whenever they were exposed to bright sunlight.

We boarded vans that shuttled us to the Eagles Lodge for dinner.  It was a great lodge of gracious hosts.  This time I had a single beer with dinner and lots of water.  There was Lasagna, scalloped potatoes, ham, baked beans and salad and lots of deserts.  They even had pecan pie!  Shulie (Our staff head lunch menu director) noted that the guest book a had the CycleAmerica sign-in from 2001 and said that the list of names brought back memories of that trip.

There were a number of veteran related notices posted in the Lodge and I talked to one of the locals about my ride for Soldier’s Heart and lamented that I didn’t bring any brochures bumper stickers with me.  He said to bring them tomorrow morning since were having breakfast there in the morning.

Upon return to the camp, there was an informational meeting, discussion about Saturday’s route and the weekly awards.  Being tired I don’t recall all the awards, but: Neil from Ireland got one; Kim Marie from Virginia got one; I gave Lloyd from Ontario the “Quick Learner of the Week Award” (because, after our lesson about the fiber-fix temporary spoke the night before, he had to put the lesson to use first thing this morning … and it worked like a charm he said).   81 year-old Neil from Oregon and (around the world) Odyssey Cyclist got the rider of the week award.  The rider of he week award was required to tell his best cycling day story ever.  Neil told about cycling through Vietnam and how all the children in the villages would come to greet them and wave to them.  One little girl gave Neil a marble, which he still has to this day.

I went to bed immediately and went to sleep before the sun set.

Exhaustion … be gone!

(97 miles and 2100 feet of vertical)

What can I say, the alarm went off at 5:00 AM, but again I was nearly awake in anticipation.  Another hundred miles, will I survive it, will the winds be as forecast?  Packing was easier because we had slept in the Dormitory rooms and had done laundry the previous night so everything was clean.  Breakfast was at the COG (Center of

Once we headed out, we needed to travel on some city roads, along a bike path and then back on some busy roads.  I had woken up with swollen lips from not having chapstick with sun-block, so I made a quick stop for some.  After continuing along, the traffic began to thin out, but the wind began to pick up in our faces.  I along with others, commented about the sad fact that we needed to pedal downhill.   The wind persisted for a while an 8 mph was typical.  So much for wind at our backs. 

Once we turned onto a different road, the wind problem diminished.   It was more perpendicular to our travels.  The hills were rolling, the traffic was light and I felt good.  At of the stops on the guide there were lots of bicycles, but I just kept going.

Another turn and I was approaching Idaho.  I stopped at a CycleAmerica water stop in a park.  I struck up a conversation with a young man who was in the park and told him about the ride and the causes that some of us were supporting in this ride.  I gave him a Soldier’s Heart brochure and a bumper sticker.     He mentioned that he was having difficulties on the home front and that his father was a Vietnam Vet.  He also mentioned that his father had flashbacks.  We talked some more and we wished each other luck in our endeavors.    

After crossing into Idaho and posing for pictures, I encountered a fireworks stand called “Two Vets Fireworks.”  I told them what I was riding for and offered the Soldier’s Heart brochure and some bumper stickers.  They were very enthusiastic about the material.   They said it was great and that someone else who worked there was suffering from PTSD  and he would be back later.  Because I couldn’t stay, I offered to leave a bunch of bumper stickers which they said they would doffer to their customers.

Continuing on, I passed Casinos and business districts and eventually turned on a back road that had lots of rolling ups and downs.  On many of them, I would power down one side and then I would power back-up the other.  It was great fun, but an enormous drain on energy and stamina.  Eventually, we reached the drop into the lake

The road descended to the banks of the lake where we joined a bicycle path.  It was a gorgeous bike path that went for nearly 50 miles.  Going along the shore of the lake, it was easy to see Great Blue Herons, snakes, birds and turtles.  There were reports of a pair of moose (that I missed).  Shortly before the Picnic Stop, there was a sculpture of a preying mantis made out of metal scrap parts.  Lunch in Harrison was beautiful.  I had the rest of yesterday’s taco salad plus other snacks.

The rest of the ride along the bike path was uneventful until Charles broke a spoke.  Between the four of us, we couldn’t figure out how to use the “Fiber-fix” temporary spoke and finally needed to call SAG support.

The only other interesting thing was Roy’s adventures.  He apparently missed a turn and continued into an unexpected town.  Eventually, he checked with the local tribal police and was warmly welcomed and helped.  It isn’t often that a lost Dutch cyclist comes to town.   The reports that followed

Posting and internet connections have been difficult to find.  My computer travels in a truck from campsite to campsite and internet access is typically not available at the campsite.

To Spokane

(96 miles and 3100 feet of vertical)

Again the alarm went off at 5:00 AM, but again I was awake before that because of the birds chirping and the sounds of the cycling early-birds breaking camp.  The chaos of my packing hasn’t improved much over the last few days, but now I am less interested making everything neat and tidy, just getting it packed.

We all left for breakfast and I was behind almost everyone else by quite a bit.  The restaurant, PepperCorns, was delightful.  Two different kinds of scrambled eggs, French Toast, sausage and a few other wonderful things (including a tiny pecan pie tart).   I got going at about 7:30 and began the climb out of Grand Coulee.

The weather was cool and sunny.  I was looking forward to the promised tail wind to speed us on our way to Spokane.  It was going to be a second consecutive 100 mile day.  I was actually happy that I was able to move my legs and keep the pedals spinning.  As I climbed up the hill, I saw a few from our group.  They were looking over at the lake and the Grand Coulee Dam was clearly visible.  It was worth a few pictures.   The climb continued and it was longer than I had expected.  Ultimately the rock walls gave way to open grasslands as we crested the pass.  Remembering that everything that goes up must go down, we began the descent down the other side.

The roads were straight and had petty wide shoulders and good grades.  It was easy to hit 30 MPH on a lot of the hills.  I get nervous with speeds greater than 35 MPH so I tried to keep it below my anxiety level.  I noted that when I exceeded about 30, my helmet rear view mirror would get blown into a different position and then it was hard to keep track of the traffic behind me.  The turbulence from trucks coming at me in the other lane did the same.   I must say that it was neat to be coasting down a hill and look to the right and see a bird flying just ahead of me over the grass on the right.  When I tried to catch up to the bird, it changed directions and left.

As we continued into the town of Wilbur, I skipped the pastry shop that was recommended.  I saw that there were many who took the hint and the place was surrounded by bicyclists.  I noticed a funny thing the promised wind FROM THE SOUTHWEST was, in fact, INTO THE SOUTHWEST.  So we were riding into a headwind and not getting the benefits of a tail wind.  DRATS!

The road continued on with lots of rolling hills and start, rocky scenery with irrigated wheat fields all around.   This road went on and on and on … mostly flat with minor rolling hills and probably 70 to 100 foot descents and climbs. 

The first water stop was at a gas station and a truck drove up with a POW/MIA magnet ribbon on the door.  I offered him a Soldier’s Heart flyer and bumper sticker.  He said that his late father was a veteran and then left after talking about where he was from.

Down the road was an official rest area and a number of us made a stop.  One of the cars that drove up had “Vietnam War Veteran” and “Lifetime Member of the VFW” bumper stickers.  I approached him and he took the brochure and a bumper sticker. 

Continuing on, the road went up and down … up and down … until the picnic stop.  Mexican casserole and tortillas were the special of the day.  It was good.   An old lady (86 year old) and her husband came by to ask us if we knew Jesus and proceeded to talk to the British folks about the impending rapture.  After they left, I needed to translate to them what she had told them. 

I had been having trouble with my bike shifting and funny squeaks.  Niles, the bike mechanic fixed by derailleur and noted that one of my “speedplay” pedals was missing a screw and this could be to source of the funny squeak. 

Continuing on, the road went up and down … up and down … up and down.  Wheat fields, to the right, wheat fields to the left.  The miles went relatively fast because the wind had basically stopped and I could maintain a 16-21 MPH on the flats.

We went through lots of traffic around an Air Force Base and finally reached a long downhill drop (about 500 feet in total0 and then we entered a bike path.  The bike path was beautiful.  It was paved and mostly downhill with nice gentle turns.  Ultimately we ended up riding through the city and I was really glad that the roads were so well marked.  Finally we ended up at Gorzoga

In the evening, I talked to a person about the CycleAmerica bike trip, cycling in general and my long term goal to ride cross country.  As I was leaving, I mentioned that I was doing this with an awareness raising / fund raising component.  As I was leaving, he confided that his father had been in the Air Force in Korea and

I no longer am surprised at how little you need to scratch the surface to hear a heart wrenching story.  I gave him a brochure and a bunch of bumper stickers.

Another hundred miles tomorrow!  Why did I sign up for this?  What was I thinking!