Mood:  energetic

Wallace, where I stayed last night, is 14 miles from Lookout Pass.  My plan for today was to try to leave between 8 AM and 8:30 AM.  The bike trail from yesterday did not end in Wallace. I planned to take it 8 miles up the road to a town called Mullan.  Then there was only 6 miles to the summit.  It sure sounded like this was going to be a piece of cake.  Of course, past experience warned me to not get my hopes up.

There is a major storm coming my way from Seattle.  Supposed to be 35 mph winds with lots of rain.  Hopefully, I can get over the pass and duck into the "rain shadow" that the mountains offer, and, if I'm lucky, I'd stay dry.

The first part of the plan worked to perfection.  Finished breakfast at 8:05 AM, and I'm on the bike trail.

The second part, the bike trail, was just like yesterday, other than it paralleled I-90.  No solitude here, but it still was a nice ride.

Crossing over the summit was part three, and I was there by 11 AM.  Now it is mostly downhill for the next 47 miles.

Rememer how I froze yesterday on the Fourth of July Pass?  I was bound and determined not to recommit that mistake.  At the summit, I donned a thincross country ski hat that would fit under my bike helmet.  I was already wearing heavy socks and leggings.  I stuffed today's newspaper up under my jacket, and put on some huge winter bicyclin gloves.  Okay, I dare you to make me cold!  It didn't.

The trip down I-90 was not nearly as nice as I'd hoped.  The side surface was somewhat rough and seemed to not e well maintained.  This could be important. I like to cruise downhill between 30-35 mph, but I slowed down.  It was too dangerous, in my mind, and just asking for an accident.  There was also some roadwork which narrowed eastbound traffic to one lane.  This was okay as long as they left a bake lane, but one stretch, two miles long, there was no room for me and anyone else.  A helpful camper slowed down the traffic behind and I pedalled as hard as I could to get out of the way.  It didn't take long.

Considering that it is June and the weather is rainy and cloudy with high temperatures around 60, I asked a local what happened to summer? The local said they have four seasons aournd here:  pre-winter, winter, winter, and road construction.  That says it all.

I arrived in Superior, Montana, a bit before 4 PM, or so I thought.  When I had crossed Lookout Pass, the time changed from Pacific Standard Time to Mountain Standard Time.  So, in the eyes of the That will take a little getting used to.

Tomorrow is Missoula!  Then a Rest Day!! 

Will McMahan

Mood:  a-ok

When I opened the Coeur d'Alene motel room door, first thing in the morning, rain was falling at a 45 degree angle, branches flying around like the arms of a conductor.  It was almost enough for me to try to get more sleep.   But duty calls.  Despite the 25 mph wind forecasts, the wind died down as I fastened the panniers to my bike.  There was a soft rain all morning, enough to require a rain jacket and pants.

To my knowledge, there was only one way to Missoula from Coeur d'Alene, and that was on I-90.  Although most of the locals couldn't verify the legality of riding on I-90, I set off early with the goal of getting to a town, just this side of Lookout Pass, called Wallace.  The shoulders to I-90 were quite wide and the drivers quite courteous.

The trouble with exerting alot of energy when cycling with rain gear is that while the gear keeps the rain from penetrating, one gets soaked anyway from perspiration.

Around mid-morning, while riding through a rather large pull off area, I noticed a white car pull over in front about 1/4 mile ahead of me and park.  I hope it wasn't a policeman.  As I approached, trying to act as if I were doing nothing wrong, the door opened and an arm waved me to a stop.  What do I do now?  I know, I'll plead ignorance, not a big stretch, all things considered.

I pulled alongside the car and stopped next to the driver's door.  Inside was a rather large woman who definitely was not a cop.  It was worse.  She was a Jehovah's Witness.  She wanted me to have one of her religious tracts.  I graciously accepted, and we chatted for a bit.  When she learned that I was heading over the pass, she said that I should take the bicycle trail. It goes up close to the top.  I thanked  her and got back on the road, one tract heavier than when I started this morning.

Did I mention that at breakfast someone mentioned that I would be going over Fourth of July Pass, a very small pass, in their opinion?  I should have listened a little closer.  Yes it was a small pass, and totally misnamed as it offered little about which to celebrate.  However, once again I froze coasting downhill, only this time Karen wasn't there with our car for me to warm up in.  The first exit I came to, I turned off and stopped at a restaurant for lunch.  Upon eating and downing several cups of coffee (actually just holding the cup with both hands trying to get warm) I was still shivering.  So I brought in a couple of my panniers, went into the men's room, and changed into some dry clothes. Aah!  Now that is more like it!

Before leaving I chatted with several people about this supposed bike trail.  Sure enough, there was one, and I could get on it just five miles up I-90 at the Cataldo exit.  Maybe there was some Divine Intervention that had that lady stop. Had she not stopped, I would not have heard about this trail (which turned out to be terrific!).  I'm not sure whose God orchestrated our encounter, hers or mine.  They're probably the same.

One thing that I wanted to be sure of was to experience and see things of interest, and not get overly caught up with the process of the trip.  I wanted to smell the roses on the way (or whatever fragrant flora is in season).  So when I saw an exit sign that said "Cataldo Mission State Park", I was sure that this was not the right exit, but it intrigued me, especially when I saw this beautiful old mission on top of the hill.  I exited to check it out.

The Cataldo Mission was built in 1850 and is the oldest standing building in Idaho.  It is a marvelous piece of architecture, and was built with axes, drills and adzes, no saws.  The founding priest was schooled in architecture, art and was a physician (the only physician in the territory.  So not only is the Mission beautiful, he used his artistic talents to make it special. Very special.  It is too much to explain here, but understand that this landmark is truly remarkable.  Besides getting a personal tour by the park ranger, this was also an ideal time to have a couple of minutes of personal worship.

The bike trail at the next exit, was everyting promised and more.  I found out later that it had just been swept yesterday, and weaved through beautiful woods, wetlands, and meadows as it followed the Coeur d'Alene River upstream. Because it was once an old railroad track, the grade never exceeded 2% making for an easy, quiet, incredibly beautiful and peaceful ride to Wallace, Idaho.  I found out that the bike trail actually starts on the south side of Lake Coeur d'Alene and is around 75 miles long.  From Cataldo to Wallace was 22 wonderful miles of peace and solitude.

Wallace is a fascinating town and one that I would love to return and visit for a day.  The area is called Silver Valley because of the extensive silver mining, much of it still going on today.  Anyway, Wallace is sort of like being dropped into a town in the 1940s or 1950s. 

Tomorrow, I go over Lookout Pass, and enter Montana.  My destination will be a mid-point betwen Wallace and Missoula.

Will McMahan

Mood:  a-ok

It's a fact that McMahans have great senses of direction.  Have I ever lost a car in a parking lot?  No.  Have I ever been lost?  Well, not often.  That is what makes today such a cunumdrum.

The plan for today was simple:  Ride downtown in Spokane; Enter the Centennial Trail (a Bicycle trail that connects Spokane with Coeur d'Alene (see, I can spell it now).  Then ride to Coeur.......  That doesn't sound too tough.  It's a short ride, as rides go, 40-50 miles.

Problem #1  I can't find the Trail.  Finally, I enter a Power Equipment store and ask for directions.  It helps that the store manager is an avid bicycler.  It didn't hurt that the entrance was two blocks away.  Most of the trail, except for downtown Spokane, was on the side of a street that parallels the Spokane River.

Problem #2  Apparently, its not enough to have a great sense of direction.  One also needs to pay attention to the signs.  When I finally acknkowledged that I was no longer on the trail (my keen sense of detection came forth after I had been riding through a residential district for 15 minutes), I asked for directions back to it from a kind gentleman.

Problem #3  Lots of times people who are giving directions do not really know either.  When I finally got back onto the trail, I had asked 9(!) people.  Most got me close.  The last person, of course, was dead on.

Problem #4  There was a detour because of major construction on a bridge.  Somehow I got lost again (I'm sure it was faulty signage on their part!), before a nice lady took pity on me and got me back on track.

Eventually, I entered Idaho.  It was a wierd feeling.  Sort of like entering Mexico or some other country.  I guess it was clearly a sign that I had closed one chapter of this journey, and was opening a new one. 

Rain.  Again.

My short term destination is Missoula.  It is around 165 miles on the other side of the Bitterroot Mountains and I have three days scheduled to get there.  Besides being three steps closer to my goal, it also will be a resting spot.  It will have been seven consecutive days of pedalling, and this child's body could use a break.

Will McMahan

Mood:  chillin'

Loved to get updated on your trip. Was out on the road for work last 4 days.

 Nice that Karen SAGed for you!!  Transition. Now that she is done with that, she can do all the things she has wanted to do, but you wouldn't let her. Boy, are you in for a surprise and the newly redecorated house when you get back!!!

 Now I guess it is you, the wind, the sky, and the road.

 Keep biking, and keep us all informed!!!!

Hawk

Mood:  not sure

Before going to sleep last night, Karen and I went over the itinerary once again.  Let's see, I was to camp the next night, then stay Wednesday in Sandpoint, Idaho.  Then a couple of camping days in western Montana, ending in Missoula, and a day of rest.

As I recalculated the mileage of the third and fourth day of this leg, it came to me that I had misadded earlier.  Day three, a fairly remote area in the Bitterroot Mountain Range was 89 miles, not 64 miles!  Oops.  Well, that won't work, especially since there were no towns around.  So I had to figure out something different.  The simplest solution was to head south on 395 into Spokane.  Then take the Centennial Trail, a 40 mile paved bike trail, into Couers de Lane (I can't ever remember how to spell it), Idaho.  Interstate 90, which passes through Couers.... goes directly to Missoula, so I just need to figure out how either to parallel I-90 or ride on it directly, if it is legal.

Today was bittersweet.  Karen and I hung around until 10 AM, hating to part, but she needed to get back, and I needed to get going to Spokane.

The first several hours were into a moderate headwind.  One loses a couple of miles per hour, which adds an hour of pedalling by the end of the day.  The mileage, 70 miles, was a little longer than I like. The terrain was rolling and very pretty.  Rain had been forecast, but it looked like I was going to dodge that bullet.

It started pouring buckets about 20 miles outside of Spokane, then traffic stopped for 1/2 hour because of paving.  The rain eased up right as traffic started moving again. 

One of my first sights, upon entering Spokane, was a bicycle shop!  Picked up a bike path map, and directions to the posh Apple Tree Inn.  It was old, but perfect for my needs, and there must be a dozen or more restaurants within a three block radius.  Restaurants become an important item at the end of a long day of pedalling, especially restauants within walking distance.

Tomorrow will be a short day, probably somewhere between 40-50 miles, and most of that on a traffic-free trail.  Still on schedule.  We'll see how long that will last.  Long, I hope.

Will McMahan

Mood:  energetic

Karen and I left the Hewitt's home early this morning.  We had breakfast in Republic at 7 AM, enjoying the food and coffee while purusing the newspaper.  It was wet outside, a light sprinkle falling.

We left Republic arouind 8:20 AM, knowing that this might be the biggest challenge yet.  There were not supposed to be many level parts of the climb, and the road to Sherman's Pass has the reputation of having a number of very steep parts.

In my opinion, its reputation is well deserved.  We followed the same pattern as yesterday, resting about every 3-5 miles (5 miles closer to the bottom, 3 miles closer to the top). 

By 12:30 we made the summit.  The climb was difficult, but the low gearing on the bicycle prevailed.

Ironically, the only problem I encountered was on the descent.  The clouds were low, the elevation high, and a light drizzle fell.  I put on my thick rain coat, rain pants, a headband (to keep my ears warm), long fingered gloves, and a helmet cover.  Still I froze.  Karen and I had arranged to meet about 10 miles downhill.  When I pulled up, we cranked up the heat in the car.  It took awhile for the shivering to go away.   This was a good lesson for the future.  There are some things I could have done, but didn't, to keep warmer. 

After a delicious lunch on the Columbia River crossing, we took off to finish the last leg of the day, to arrive in Colville.  I was pretty darned tired when we had arrived at the restaurant, but the rest and food was just what my body needed.  I was strong the rest of the way.

We wanted to find a nice place to spend the night, and boy did we find it. Our hotel in Colville, a Comfort Inn, was much nicer than we had anticipated.  A special surprise was a laundry next to the lobby.  My clothes were definitely ready for the washer!

Most of the next few days will be more normal type of riding.  Some climbing, but nothing major.  The land elevation will slowly but surely increase.  In less than two weeks, I'll be staying in West Yellowstone, whose elevation is around 6,700'.

I was supposed to have a rest day in Colville, but since I took one in Okanogan, I will journey on in the morning. 

The sad news is that Karen will be heading back home.  I sure enjoyed her company.   She has been a real trooper about my trip, and came immediately when I asked, without complaint.  However, it would be a slow torture (maybe not so slow) for her to continue SAGging me across the country.  I love her too much to ask her to submit to that kind of agony. 

So tomorrow, I'm off again.  Its supposed to be rainy the next few days.

Will McMahan

Mood:  energetic

Karen and I gave our goodbyes and thanks to the Talmadges for their hospitality.  Around 8:30 AM, we departed for the town of Republic (population 900).

Our strategy today was to have lunch in Tonasket, about 35 m/l miles into the trip.  Immediately out of Tonasket, I had to cross Wauconda Pass in order to reach Republic.  Neither I nor almost anyone I know has ever heard of Wauconda Pass.   Yet it is steeper and higher than the better known Stevens and Snoqualamie Passes.  I was to test my new theory of jettisoning the camping gear, thus lightening the load.  

In bicycling, a person or persons that support a bicycler(s) is called a SAG (no that does not stand for Stage Actors Guild, Californians).  Karen drove as SAG for me, stopping at  predetermined distances, and provided fresh water and food.  Since the climb was often steep, I would be in a low gear, generating a top speed of 4 mph.  An hour of climbing is physically taxing, so Karen would find a spot 3.5 to 4 miles ahead for me to rest and replenish. 

The  ride went well.  Whether my legs were getting stronger, or the lighter load made it a bit easier or the good Lord watched over me, the ride went as planned.  It was fun for me to have Karen along.  She was a very good and supportive sport, but I wouldn't say that she would consider being a SAG as fun.

 In Republic, I had arranged to stay at the home of some bicycling enthusiasts, Boyd and Diane Hewitt.  Although we had never met, they laid down the welcome mat, provided a delicious dinner, and we had interesting converstaions.  Boyd is a foreman at a local gold mine and it was very enlightening to hear how the gold is mined and processed.

Having lived in Wyoming, along the path where I will be traveling, they were aghast at the thought of me jettisoning my tent.  There were vast distances where there were no motels or places to stay, but camping was available.  So it looks like the tent is going back on the bike as I leave Colville.

Tomorrow, we have the pleasure of scaling Sherman Pass, The highest pass in Washington.  Karen would provide SAG support again.  We intended to stay in Colville, about 60 miles away.  After Colville, she would head home, and I would venture east alone.

Will McMahan

Mood:  happy

Karen, in an uncharacteristically intrepid manner, is on her way over to Okanogan.  I am excited to see her.

Larry Talmadge has been a wonderful host while Joanne was working.  I met two of his kids and his brother.  We saw their place in Concunnely, and their previous cabin on Lake Concunnely.  What beautiful country!

 We met Joanne for lunch at this incredible retaurant in Omak called the Breadline.  If you are ever in Omak, do not, I repeat, do not, miss it.

On the way back to the Talmadge home, Larry says "I wonder if your tire is there yet."  Oh my gosh, I forgot about the tire (its amazing how good company, good food, and beautiful surroundings can cloud one's mind!)  As soon as we got to Larry's house, I called the supplier wanting to know why my tire had not arrived.  During the call, the doorbell rings.  It's Federal Express with the tire.  Wow.  See what a phone call will do!

Karen arrived around 5 PM, and we had another blissful dinner out on the Talmadge deck overlooking the valley.

We are going to test out the new strategy of jettisoning the camping gear.  Karen, as a safety valve, will accompany me for two days, until we get to Colville. 

I'll be back on the road on Saturday.  It is 30-40 miles to Tonasket, then a decent climb over the third mountain pass.  It is called Wauconda.  Starting at 900' of elevation at Tonasket, the pass is at 4,300 feet.  This will be a good test of everything:  carrying a lighter load (probably 35-38 lbs), I'm full hydrated and well fed and rested. 

Sunday presents the highest pass in the state of Washington.  It is called Sherman Pass.  It is 5,575' of elevation (don't sneer you Coloradans!). 

The original plan was to have a day of rest in Colville, and attend church there.  Since I took a day of rest yesterday, I do not want to attend church in Republic (the new Saturday night rest stop), get out near noon, then attempt Sherman Pass.  No, I think I'll do private devotions on Sunday.  Whether there will still be a rest day in Colville is still a question to be answered.

Will McMahan

Mood:  not sure

The good news:  Loup Loup, elevation about the same as Stevens Pass, 4,000+, was fairly short.  Twelve miles from the bottom to the top.

The bad news:  It started out very, very steep, about an 8% grade, for half a mile.  then after 3+ miles of climbing, there came 8 miles of 6 % grade (non-bicyclers, that is steep, especially with 50 pounds of gear). 

My strategy?  Make it up the first 1/2 mile, then rest.  Ride until I think the 6% grade starts, then rest.  Then hope to do either two shifts at 4 MPH with a break.  Or four shifts at 4 MPH with four breaks.  Or anything in between.  Just get to the summit.  Half the water worked yesterday, so it should be fine today, too (not!).

Today felt like two inner persons fighting, sort of a good vs. evil internally.  One voice is saying "Any pickup will take you over the pass.  Can you believe how weak you feel?  Why punish yourself."  The other voice is saying "I will be your strength. Abide in me"  No kidding.

I barely made it up the first 1/2 mile.

It is amazing to me that in second gear, low range, my bicycle could propel myself and my load up a pretty steep slope.  Just keep those legs moving.  Isn't that bird's song beautiful?  Ahh, feel that cool breeze.  Could I get in another mile before resting?

Good news:   I think I'm going to make it.  I'm not sure how much further to the summit, but I think I can do it.

Bad new:  I'm out of water.  It's hot.  There are no streams to replenish my thirst.  Who's dumb idea was that to bring half the water? 

I believe that I can make it to the summit with no water, without suffering health consequences.  If I start feeling bad, then I'll pull over and flag down some help.

After lunch, a little after noon, I start up thinking I have 3-4 miles to go, probably an hour of riding.  Within 1/2 mile there is a campground on the left!  Water!  No one is there when I pull in.  There is camping but not water.  Two travelers show up.  Neither has water for sale.  Back on the road.

Less than one half mile further there is a sign indicating that I am approaching the summit, and sure enough there it was.  It couldn't have been a mile from where I had lunch.  Now the worst case is that I coast downhill into Okanogan very thirsty. 

As I'm crossing the summit two bicyclers, coming from the opposite direction, reach the summit and pull over to a pickup.  I introduce myself, and guess what, they have lots and lots and lots of water!  Okanogan, here I come! (It doesn't take much to make me happy).

Larry and Joanne Talmadge live in Okanogon.  Joanne was an agent in my office in Everett before moving to eastern Washington.  They were gracious hosts with a blissful, shaded view of the Okanogon valley.  I had a spare tire delivered to their home, since I couldn't find one at home.  Unfortunately, it didn't arrive.  I decided to stay an extra day and hope it arrives tomorrow.  A blown tire with no spare would be a major problem.

The bonus is that Karen is coming over on Friday.  She'll stay with me at the Talmadge's home, then follow me to Colville, two days away.

My newest strategy is to jettison my camping gear to lighten up the load, then motel it to Boulder.  Karen will send the camping gear to Boulder since all the major mountain climbs will be behind me.  That is not to belittle steep hills or the Blue Ridge mountains, but it's the 3,00-4,500 hundred foot ascents that I'd like to be a little lighter.  My legs are getting stronger.

I can't wait for Karen to get here.  I miss her.

Will McMahan

Mood:  don't ask

Washington Pass lay in front of me.  I had ridden over it twice last year on an upright bike, but I wanted to ride a recumbent.  Since it entailed some different leg muscles than an upright bike, I trained hard trying to get the muscles "climb ready".  Apparently they weren't.  Nevertheless, I was alone, smack in the middle of nowhere, no cell phone coverage, and I was going to ascend Washington Pass.

Washington Pass is 5,400-5,500 feet in elevation, one of the highest in the state.  My campground was at around 1,000 feet. It was thirty two miles to the summit, most of it uphill.  Last year I left at 9 AM and reached the summit at 2:30 PM.  It had been difficult but I felt strong.  What would today bring?

8:15 AM.  The first 3 miles are steep, probably a 6% grade.  before leaving, I drained off half my water, knowing that I could filter water from the steams on the hill (This turned out to be a sound strategy) .  I also jettisoned my entire cookset except for one small pot.  I still had to be carrying 50 pounds of gear.  Legs felt stiff and weak.  I prayed again.  I don't think I've prayed this much in years.

After the first three grueling miles, things perked up a bit.  The grade became much more managable and easier.   I felt I was barely moving, then noticed something up ahead.  It was another touring bicycler, and I was gaining on him!  In fact he ended up walking several times.  I was thankful about getting special gearing on the bike which helped move the huge load forward. 

The last four miles were a one mile descent followed by a three mile very steep climb.  The descent lasted less than two minutes.  The last three miles took 50 minutes.  BUT I MADE IT!!  With lots and lots of prayer.  I checked the time when reache the summit.  It was 2:30 PM.  For all of my thinking that I was going so slow, I was only 45 minutes slower than last year on the upright. 

There was still 32 miles to go.  Most of the first 10-15 miles were downhill.  The balance was gently downhill.  I arrived in Winthrop around 5 PM., just in time to meet my friends Karl and Harriet Groth at the KOA campground. 

I was a little amazed that I was so weak last night, then today I had scaled Washington Pass.  Go figure.  Of course, the next day's ride, Loup Loup, was the one I had been worried about for weeks.  It was shorter but steeper than Washington Pass.

Will McMahan