Way to go, Idaho!

My first time in Idaho.  We rode 61 miles today, from Spokane to Harrison, Idaho, a lovely little town on Lake Coeur d'Alenes.  It is also right on the Trail of the Coeur d'Alenes, a 65 mile rail trail which was constructed with Superfund money, cleaning up the tailings left from the mining industry in the area.  Our innkeepers told us that this town and others along the lake were nearly deserted before the trail brought thousands of bikers each summer.

Getting out of a major city is always messy.  I took that a bit too literally this morning and sank up to my ankles in wet, muddy sand as we were walking our bikes through a construction site.  My fellow riders donated still cold water from their water bottles, a great sacrifice on a hot day, to clean up my bike while I asked the friendly driver of the construction sprayer truck if I could clean the mud off my feet and shoes.

We rode the nicely named Valley Chapel road this morning, through pine forest and along a stream, then climbed for about three miles to be greeted by this vista.  

The trailhead of the Trail of the Coeur d'Alenes is a memorial to warriors of the local tribes killed in US wars, including those killed in the Battle of Steptoe in 1858.  The Native Americans were the victors of that battle, but it quickly led to their total subjugation.

When we asked this young man what he was fishing for, he answered, "Fish."

The servings were indeed huge, and most welcome after a hot ride.  I missed out on marionberry pie at lunch, as it was sold out, but had some quite acceptable rhubarb pie instead.  Alas, rhubarb pie does not photograph well.

Sunset view from the lawn of our B&B

Last city for quite a stretch

We had a short ride, just 40 miles, from Davenport into Spokane, our last major urban area for many miles.  After the major hauls of the last few days, this ride was too short, as we arrived at our hotel well before our rooms were ready.  We were happy to camp out in the air conditioned lobby.  

We really are out west!  Eastern Washington has been a surprise to me, so different from the coast.

This cheery fellow greeted us in Reardon.  

The world's largest Radio Flyer wagon is in a park we rode through this morning.  Of course we had to stop and play on it.

Wheat fields and cous cous

We had a hot 50 mile ride today.  Leaving the Columbia River Valley meant a tough five mile climb up to high agricultural land.  Guess I had better get used to the heat.  I tried out a gel filled neck wrap which you soak in water so that it stays wet a long time.  It was great-- my own portable AC unit.

Miles of long straight road after we climbed out of the river valley.  

A beautiful field of canola (or maybe mustard) amid all the wheat fields.

Fledgling western king birds in a tree near our lunch spot.  The young ones never moved, parents flew in and out, and we had a lovely warbling accompaniment to our meal.

A picture doesn't do justice to this marvelous ice cream soda from an old fashioned soda fountain.  The young woman serving had no idea how to make a soda, so I taught her, just the way I like it, of course.

When we have facilities available, we take turns making dinner for the group.  I had a great crew helping me prepare vegetable cous cous, complete with fresh local apricots.  The men cleaned up.

A dam fine day

Our longest day so far, 78 miles with significant climbing in the afternoon.  We passed the Wells and Chief Joseph dams on the Columbia in the morning, and we are spending the night in the town of Grand Coulee, which appears to be built up totally around the Grand Coulee Dam and the power generation business.

Along the Columbia early in the day.

We could still see the Cascades, looking back after about 10 miles of steady climbing!  

The usual unusual sights along the side of the road.

And the real thing.

What a difference a day makes!

No more four foot tall ferns and dense forests of the temperate rain forest.  Sage brush was the shrub of the day, as we rode 55 miles to Chelan.  We followed the Columbia River most of the day, through the steep valley the river has cut over millennia.  The valley is quite green, with mile after mile of irrigated orchards; we saw apples, pears, apricots, peaches, and of course cherries.  We turned slightly away from the river at the end of the day, and had a nice two mile climb to Chelan and Lake Chelan.  The climb was well worthwhile!

Looking back to the Cascades, from a few miles into today's route.

Looking west down the Columbia River.

Young apple trees on trellises.

Lots of cherries.  We bought a pound bag for a dollar.

More bikes in unusual places, at the Junk and Funk store.

Lake Chelan, 50 miles long and 1500 feet deep, is the third deepest lake in the United States.  

9:15 p.m. sunset on the lake.  Wish we could stay longer at this pretty spot.

Over Stevens Pass in the rain

We had quite a ride today, with lots of challenges and contrasts.  We climbed a little over 3000 feet in the first 16 miles, with about half the climb in the last five miles.  It wasn't the steepest climb I've ever done, but it was definitely the longest.  The temperature was about 50 degrees when we rode out, and it certainly didn't get any warmer as we climbed.  I had the interesting sensation of being hot and cold simultaneously, generating heat as I climbed while being pelted with rain and a little hail.  Our support vehicle was at the pass, where we changed out of some of our wet clothes, added a few layers, and drank some very welcome hot chocolate before we started down.  The first five miles were scary, as I could hardly see with more rain and trucks throwing up water, the road was very steep, and I was freezing.  Fortunately it became a little less steep, the sun came out, and we rolled downhill for almost forty miles.

Starting out in the rain.

Enjoying the afternoon sunshine along the Wenatchee River.

Incredible scenery.

Looks like Bavaria.  

Lots of wet biking clothes drying in the sunshine on the dry side of the Cascades.

Into the mountains

This post is a day late because of uncooperative Internet.

We rode 55 miles from Woodinville to Skycomish on a gray day, pleasant for riding until the last 10 miles up the mountain, when we got quite wet.  The small towns along the way had wonderful names--Startup, Gold Bar, and Index.  We knew we were in Washington State because there were espresso/ latte bars in unusual places, and lots of stands selling delicious fresh Rainier and Bing cherries at unbelievably low prices.

First views of the Cascades.  It was pretty clear that we would get wet once we started climbing.

Supposedly a pice of a 1000 year old Douglas fir.  I didn't count the rings.

An ice cream break as we entered Big Foot country.  This stand was featured in the old movie "Harry and the Hendersons".

Yarn bombing in Skycomish, something to do with old bikes.  The Main Street of this very small town parallels the railroad tracks, with lots of trains going through all night long.

We're rolling!

After three days of sightseeing and eating some great seafood, our group headed east from Seattle this morning, riding a gentle 33 miles to Woodinville, Washington.  I put my rear wheel in the Pacific water of Puget Sound, the traditional way to start a cross-country ride.  I've already put the front wheel in the Atlantic, so now I just have to cover the distance in between.

We took the water taxi across from West Seattle into downtown, avoiding a lot of city traffic.  

Of course, we had to stop for lots of pictures at the Space Needle.

A lesser known attraction of Seattle is the troll of Fremont, located under a bridge, as one would expect.  Fremont is also known for its Naked Biker parade, but that was last Saturday, so we just missed it.

We rode out of Seattle on the Burke-Gilman, bike trail, one of the oldest urban bike trails in the country.  This mural shows the transition from railroad to bike trail.  Dick, the biker in yellow, is our oldest rider; I'm not sure if he has just had or is about to have his 80th birthday, but it's impressive either way.

Rain predicted for tomorrow, as we head into the foothills of the Cascades.

Can You Go the Distance?

Last Sunday's sermon title was most appropriate, and my response was "I hope so."  A week from today I will fly to Seattle to join up with a bike group which will set off for points east.  I expect to arrive in Pittsburgh on August 17.  No, I don't know how many miles it is, and I wonder about a few other how many's -- flat tires, peanut butter sandwiches, ice cream cones, new friends?  I will be with leaders Nancy and Ken Wright and many familiar faces from the rides I did in 2013 and 2014.  Those trips were each a month long, and I wasn't ready to have them end.  We'll see how I feel after two months.  I'm excited, and more than a bit apprehensive. 

  

I put in a few miles of training rides, including getting into practice seeking out fine treats along the way, before I shipped my bike the day before yesterday.  Now I'm sorting what I will take and doing all the miscellany that an extended trip entails.  I hope to be reunited with my bike on June 20, so look for more posts after that.