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Bicycling, April 2007
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OK, what happened to kayaking? A combination of health problems and running out of time. I had intended to visit my daughter Riannon at RIT during her spring break. Once I was in the Northeast, I drove over to Boston for medical, dental, banking, Kenpo, and catching up with friends.
Kayaking is not over, just postponed to resume next winter.
Kenpo2000 brought me to Spokane, Washington. I'm here to attend the annual Kenpo2000 Gathering, to attend the Board of Directors meeting at the home of my friend and teacher Skip Hancock (the founder of Kenpo2000), and to see friends that I haven't seen in a year. One of the primary reasons that I am in the martial arts (aside from fitness) is the people. Skip has attracted to his organization some excellent people. These folks are not only exceptional martial artists, but are exceptional human beings. There is no politics, no back-biting or gossip, no egos getting in the way of learning, no meanness, and no harshness. These are good people who have a passion for the art and a passion for living.
I sold my car when I was in Boston, adding carlessness to being homeless. My intention has been to change how I travel, to replace gas-guzzling 70 mph with an eco-friendly, get-in-shape-or-die, take-time-to-smell-the-roadside-attractions 10 mph. So, I decided to use the trip to the west coast as an oppportunity to buy a good bicycle and ride back east.
I bought a Trek 520, a $1200 touring bicycle that rides like a thoroughbred compared with my old hybrid.
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50 miles
The weather was much nicer than forecasted, so I had no excuse to wait another day. Route 195 heading south out of Spokane was within a few blocks of my motel and quickly hits the highway. I also quickly discovered that no amount of padding in the expensive cycling shorts would be enough.
After a brave start of about 15 miles of steady cycling, I settled on a pace of about 6 mph, walking up every hill in order to give butt, wrists, and back a rest. I assume that in a week or two the parts will toughen up and the pace will pick up.
I had imagined I would camp along the way that night, but the terrain was wide open wheat fields, with no place to hide a stealth camp site. At 37 miles into the ride, I passed a rest area that promised lodging in Steptoe. With that promise, I dug down and pushed on for another 2 hours. Alas, the motel was closed due to "Plumbing problems". Fortunately, there was a RV park next door, so I set up camp there. Apparently, the plumbing problem also applied to the RV park bath house, because the facilities were locked. Given that my camp site was only 30 ft from the highway, answering calls of nature were indiscreet.
Steptoe is named for a Lt. Colonel who got lost and mistakenly lead a company of 150 cavalry into lands owned by Native American tribes by treaty. His trespass angered the locals who responded with a war party of several hundred. Despite the fact that the locals suffered many more casualities than the soldiers, the battle is considered to have been won by the locals. Apparently, Steptoe's attempt to backtrack and find his way home was interpreted as a retreat.
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12 miles
I apparently overdid it yesterday. I conveniently overlooked the fact that a) I have not ridden so far in several years, b) I have not been on a bicycle at all in many months, and c) I am older than I last remembered. I had meant to keep on going to Pullman. However, the hill out of town was intimidating (a 500 ft elevation gain). And, I had not recovered from yesterday. So, I stayed in the Siesta Motel at the South end of town.
After two days and 62 miles, I discovered 9 pounds of stuff that somehow seemed to be essential just two days ago. The stuff was taken to the Post Office.
It seems appropriate that I found the monument shown. The Codger Pole was sculpted to commemorate a pair of football games between the towns of Colfax and St. Johns. The first game, which occurred in November 1938, was played by high school teams in a snow storm. Not that it matters much, but Colfax lost. The second game was played fifty years later by the same players that played in 1938. I don't remember who won the second game, but I know that a lot of guys in their late sixties (each one named and caricatured on the pole) were very sore and tired.
I felt a strong connection to these intrepid old farts, and dedicated a night of watching television to their memory.
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17 miles
Pullman is a small city of 27,000 and the home of the Washington State University Cougars. Ho hum.
I still haven't made up my mind which way I want to go from Lewiston, Idaho. It wouldn't seem like such a big deal, except that if I go south, it is 270 miles to Boise with few towns, fewer campgrounds and motels, and no bail out points. If I go east, it is 180 miles to Missoula, Montana with even fewer towns and no place to bail out. Whichever way I decide will have big consequences: east will take me through the Dakotas, south takes me through Utah and New Mexico.
Except for the hazards of snow and running out of water, it doesn't matter which route I take. I don't have anyplace I need to be for at least 2 months. It's hard to let go of the idea of destinations and deadlines.
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33 miles today, 112 miles since Spokane
The terrain for the first 20 miles was much like the last 2 days, gently rolling loess (windblown silt deposited during the last ice age) with 100 ft of topsoil. It looks like what I imagine Nebraska to look like, planted to the horizon with winter wheat.
The only excitement for today was the last 10 miles, which started at 3000 ft and dropped to 700 ft elevation on a very winding road. At times I was over 30 mph and for most of the ride I was riding the brakes.
I guess that I'll stick with the original plan and head south, although I don't look forward to tomorrow's ride of 40 miles up and down but with an overall elevation gain of 3000 ft. Google Earth indicates that some of the route is forested, so that if need be I may be able to stealth camp along the way.
The El Rancho Motel, where I'm staying tonight, is filled with dogs and their owners attending a local dog show.
Knock on wood, but no equipment problems with the bike. If this keeps up, I won't have much to whine about.
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42 miles today, 154 miles since Spokane.
Opened my laptop and discovered ants crawling around, in and out of my keyboard. A legacy of the El Rancho Motel.
Good day today, riding 42 miles up the Clearwater River on Highway 12, which is part of the Lewis and Clark trail. I'm staying a couple of nights (taking Sunday off) in the town of Orofino, which is the place where the Lewis and Clark expedition constructed canoes on their way to the coast.
Orofino was settled in 1861 during a gold rush. After gold played out, industry shifted to logging white pine. Now, adventure tourism seems to be the major industry, with canoeing, hunting, fishing, hiking, and skiing. The place still has a small town atmosphere in that it hasn't gone over to art boutiques, craft stores, souvenirs, etc. Land prices are still reasonable, with many small homes under $100K and several acres of land for $30-50K.
It's interesting that I'm in the Nez Perce reservation and I have only seen one person who looks like a Native American. The only indication that this is reservation land was the casino at the border. I read that when the reservation was set aside, a bureaucrat assigned to each Native American a plot of land. When everyone had a few acres of their own, the rest of the land was sold to whites.
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24 miles (178 total)
A short day, making only 24 miles in only 2.5 hours. There is a strange optical illusion along the river. Even though I am going up river, the road seems to be going downhill. Maybe its the power of suggestion, but I was able to maintain 15 mph for several long intervals. After just a week of riding, I already seem to be feeling stronger. Tomorrow will be the beginning of the steep climb to Lolo Pass. about 100 miles away. Destination for tomorrow night is a campground about 27 miles away.
Kamiah is another small, pleasant town of 1200 people, large enough to have a grocery store, a half-dozen restaurants, laundromat, drug store, casino, real estate agents, and library. Of special interest, it has a bakery / cafe, where I had a strawberry and spinach salad, beef stew, and a piece of strawberry rhubarb pie for $7.00.
I'm amazed at all the small motels here in the Northwest that seem rundown on the outside, but that are pretty nice on the inside. Tonight, I'm staying in the Sundown Motel for $29.00 per night (off season rate), which has cable, a refrigerator, a microwave, and a newly remodeled bath.
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34 miles (212 miles total), elevation 1280 ft.
Population of Lowell, 24 (crossed out and replaced with 23)
Lowell consists of two competing lodgings, each with a cafe, and a gas station/convenience store. I was one of only two guests at either lodging, and one of the first guests for the year.
At breakfast, I spoke with the other diners. Two of the gentlemen were elk and bear hunters. One was a young man of around 30 in jeans, flannel shirt, suspenders, and a baseball cap. The other was a cowboy, over sixty, with his neck in a permanent tilt. Both of them looked tough as nails and well worn. We talked for awhile about wolves and how they are making a comeback. The official estimate is 700 wolves in northern Montana. There is a lot of resentment from the locals about the wolves. The perception is that the wolves will kill livestock and decimate the elk populations. In reality, few livestock have been harmed and the elk have just moved to new territories to evade the wolves.
The other diner was a recreational gold miner from Portland, Oregon. A friend of his had given him (cursed him?) with the title of a small gold mine up the Selway River. The amount of gold he finds doesn't even pay for his gas to drive up here. But the view is spectacular and the mining is simply another excuse to be someplace wonderful.
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31 miles (243 total)
The road up the Lochsa River continues to be spectacular. There are a brazillian flowers in bloom, and as I climb up in elevation, the collection of species keeps changing.
I encountered a most extreme case of inefficiency by the national forest service. On the way up, I saw a guy putting up signs saying that there would be roadwork ahead and traffic would be reduced to a single lane (1 person, 1 vehicle). Another mile later, I ran into another sign. Two miles after that, I met a person holding a pole with "stop" on one side, "slow" on the other (1 person, 0 vehicles). While waiting there, a pickup truck with the sign "Pilot vehicle, follow me" arrived (1 person, 1 vehicle). A convoy of 6-7 autos and trucks then followed the pickup to the construction site, where there were 4 more vehicles and about 8 people. One vehicle was carrying a port-a-potty on a trailer, one vehicle was a dumptruck, and two vehicles were vans for the workers.
At the construction site, a single dead tree trunk about 12 inches in diameter and with no branches had been cut down across, blocking both lanes of the road.
One man was carrying an axe, and he would presumably only work when an axe was needed. One man was carrying a chain saw, and likewise seemed to be the chain saw specialist. One man was trying to hook a cable from the tree trunk to the trailer hitch of the dump truck, but because of the angles, he had troubles getting the hook set with minimal slack. Notice that no one was about to move to help him, they would only offer advice. One man was driving the dump truck. One man was in the van with port-a-potty and I saw him spring into action when everyone collectively decided that the dump truck could not move the tree with the port-a-potty in the way. There was someone who I suspected was the supervisor. He too was not doing anything, but I believe him to be the supervisor because he wasn't carrying a tool or sitting behind the wheel of a vehicle.
After the construction site, I found the other person holding a stop/slow sign (1 person).
By my count 10-11 people and 6 vehicles took 15 minutes to remove a dead tree that probably could have been rolled off the side of the road by 2 strong guys in 20 seconds. The whole operation, including safety personnel, could have easily been done by 5 people with two vehicles.
The campgrounds that I had been planning on staying were still closed, so I camped at a river access point called Dead Mule Flats.
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35 miles (278 total), elevation 3200 ft.
I encountered the first cyclist, who asked me if I was on the "TransAm" route. After a moment of severe confusion, the cyclist said that an organization called Adventure Cycling, based in Missoula, MT, has been setting up scenic routes for cross country cyclists since 1976. The Trans American route is the first route that had been laid out and I had stumbled onto it.
The cyclist then showed me some of the maps for cyclists that the organization provided, complete with a listing of all motels, campgrounds, bike shops, etc. along the route. It also had an elevation profile with the map.
He also told me about a web site called "Hot Showers", which is a cooperative of cyclists who provide places to stay for other cyclists passing through.
When I left Lowell, I had not bothered to fill up all of my water bottles, since the rangers and locals said that the campgrounds along the way had water. They lied. Once the campgrounds opened, there would be water, but all of the stand pipes were dry after Wilderness Gateway. I started out from Lowell with about 2.5 quarts.
By the time I got to Dead Mule Flats, I had less than one quart of water and it was 22 miles to the next campground where I was planning to stay. But, as I feared, the campground was also still closed and the water pipes were dry. At this point I had been rationing for the last 4 hours, drained the last water, and had another 12 miles to go up a moderate grade. I was feeling pretty puny by the time I arrived in Powell, and begged a glass of water from the desk clerk.
The lodge was pleasant, but rustic. My cabin was heated with a wood stove and had no bath facilities (there was a separate bath house). On the other hand, the restaurant was OK although it was pricey and there was not much on the menu.
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55 miles (333 total), elevation at Lolo Pass, 5225 ft.
The climb up from Powell to Lolo Pass was 12 miles and steep enough (6% grade) that I walked the last half. As evidenced by the picture of the Visitor Center at Lolo Pass, the ground was still snow covered.
After eating lunch at the summit, the ride down was a rush, going 30+ mph for the next 8 miles.
After that, the road was either level or gently descending, allowing me to maintain a pace of about 15 mph for the next two hours. The valley down from Lolo Pass was very different from Idaho on the other side of the Pass. While the Idaho side was closed in with tiny valleys and winding roads, the Montana side was a huge, wide valley filled with horse, mule, cattle, llama(?!?), and moose (!?!) ranches, and with long straight-aways as far as the eye could see.
The only motel in the town of Lolo (35 miles below the pass) had rooms for $80.00 per night (interestingly, when I asked the desk clerk what the rates were, she asked me if I was on a bicycle before quoting me the rate). Missoula was only 8 more miles ahead, so I pressed on and found a nice room for $38.00 and am staying here for three nights so that I can visit Adventure Cycling on Monday morning to get maps. Besides the downtown area is interesting and this will be the last closest thing to a city I may see for awhile.
Missoula is a prime example of a small western city that is being Californicated. People from California (and Massachusetts I'm sure) come here and see the land being sold for $20,000 an acre and consider it a bargain. Then they build a $500,000 home on the acre. The result is that it is becoming harder for people born here to afford to stay here. The other result is that it is probably too expensive for me to consider moving here, although the climate and geography are nice (after all, that's why the Californians come here).
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56 miles (396 total), elevation 3700 ft.
I stopped at Adventure Cycling in downtown Missoula this morning and picked up maps all the way through to Illinois. They took my picture and added it to a gallery of folks who are cycle through Montana. It looks like last year they had about 200 long distance cyclists stop by. So far this year, the guy that I ran into last week and myself are the first ones this year.
Today was the most challenging day, so far, with the longest distance and a 600 ft elevation gain to 3700 ft. This is the beginning of the climb up to Lost Pass, elevation 7,200 ft.
The day was also challenging because there were no shoulders on a narrow, busy 2 lane road. I doubt that I'll be as ambitious tomorrow.
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| Copyright (c) 2007 by Dick Delanoy
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