They are both quite flat. I have seen lots of the flats since I have been here, and it is cool, but I am ready to get into a forest or something. I am currently in Minot, ND taking the day off. Over the past six days I have averaged 70 miles a day, one of those days being a 10 mile day and one being a 25. My body feels pretty ragged.
I will continue east on the 2 tomorrow. I am supposed to encounter a 20 mph headwind/crosswind which I am not looking forward to, but these things happen. My hair is knotting up and I look like a damn hippie.
The ride from Havre to Sleeping Buffalo MT was pretty awesome. I did my first century ride that day. It was hard, even with the tailwind, but I cleared the 110 miles by 7:30. I found a small local bar that some folks were hanging around so I went to set up camp at the reservoir and went back to have a couple of drinks. Those people know how to party. I was up pretty late with them, and we had a really good time.
The next day I did not get on the road till about noon, for obvious reasons. When I finally did get moving I encountered a colossal headwind that slowed progress to about 5 mph. After 2 hrs of riding I came to Saco, and figured I should take on some water and check the weather. The only thing open at the time was the bar, so I walked in there. Behind the counter stood Joe, one of the guys I had drank with the night before. He is good people. He checked the weather on the TV and it was calling for thunderstorms and more wind. I decided then that I was staying in town that night. I got a motel room for 35 bucks next door to Joe's bar and rested. I went back later, for I figured I could use a drink. Kristina was working, another one of the folks I drank with at the Sleeping Buffalo. I was writing and drinking my beer, so I decided to load up some music on the jukebox. The folks at the bar liked what I was playing so much, that by the end of the night they had given me 30 bucks of their money to put in the box. That town was a lot of fun.
Went to Wolf Point the next day. It was a hard ride, but I made it, just in time. About an hour out of town I had lightning to the south and to the north, both closing in fast. Found a cheap place to stay there and got out the next morning.
Stayed in Lewis and Clark St. Park for a night in North Dakota. That was a nice place, and I would like to go back someday. The lake, whose name escapes me now was beautiful. The guys camping next to me were the sons of the Park Ranger there. They were pretty cool and shared some of their beer with me. The next morning they gave me a ride back to Hwy. 2, about 14 miles, due to the heavy traffic on SR 1804. The day that I showed up a big rig had flipped over on one of the sketchy turns, and they thought I would be significantly safer if I got back on the main highway. The oil boom has made what was once a very low traffic road very busy and quite dangerous.
Oh yeah, on the way into ND there was a roadkill deer in the road. It was nasty. I called the sheriff to report it, and he was not happy to hear about it. It was going to be some dirty work. To date I have seen who knows how many ground squirrels, a lot of rabbits, a coyote, a deer, a porcupine, a skunk, and a lot of birds on the side of the road in various stages of decay.
So now I am in Minot. I am going to shoot for Rugby tomorrow. It is only about 70 miles away, but with this headwind it may not be doable. I will be following Hwy. 2 for the most part until I get to Marquette, MI, where I will have a long rest. Then I will have to decide how to get to CaNaDa.
My hair is getting nappy. Is knotting up for real. I kind of dread being the white guy with dreadlocks due to all the politics that are caught up in that scene, but you cant fight the hippie hair on a trip like this, especially when you don't carry a comb.
There may be thunderstorms for the next few days. Will report from Duluth at the latest.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
It's been a while
Since my last post.
The mountains were beautiful, I'm sure. Not that I got to see any of them to speak of. The ride east from Mt. Vernon, WA through the Cascade Range on the 20 to Sandpoint, ID was ridiculous. Not because of the climbs, which were brutal, but because of the weather. I did not encounter 24 rain free hours for that entire leg of the trip.
I left Mt. Vernon in the rain. Not torrential downpour rain, but foggy, dreary rain that compromised visibility and soaked me and all my gear. On the way out of town I bought a pair of over boots for my cycling shoes, which proved to be a wise decision. It cleared up a little on my way to Newhalem, and I got mostly through the night without much precipitation. Newhalem is at the base of the mountains, at about zero ft. elevation. The next day I was to tackle the day long climb to the top of Rainy and Washington Pass (5477 ft). The distance from Newhalem to the top of the pass is only about 45 to 55 miles. I got a ilate start up the mountain, and the weather looked like it would be decent so I was taking it easy, getting some photos and enjoying the long and treacherous climb. About 4 pm I met the rain and it began to get frustrating. At about 7:30 it had become significantly dangerous, and I was soaked. Traffic was heavy, due to it being Memorial Day Weekend, and visibility was near zero. I realized I was putting myself at risk by being on the road, so I looked for a flat piece of ground to set up my tent. If I had known how close I was to the summit I would have probably kept going. I was only maybe two or three miles from the top of Rainy Pass, and I knew there were toilets there, which would have given me significantly more protection from the weather. It rained all through the night. Hard. By the time the sun came up ALL of my gear was soaked, and the rain had not let up. So I got my gear packed and headed up the mountain. I encountered snow and hail as well as the rain that morning. My feet felt like clubs and I was starting to get nervous.
I made the pass, after what felt like hours, although I believe it was only about 45 minutes. I did not check the time, I didn't really want to know. Coming down was at least as dangerous as coming up. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but the fog was still hanging about, and I had what seemed to be a 1000 ft plus death drop on my right without much shoulder on this 7% grade and only a metal guardrail (part of the time) to stop me from hitting the bottom if something were to go wrong. Road conditions were sketchy as hell, wet from a night of rain, and traffic was starting to get heavier. The views were not all that impressive due to the fog and I made it down unscathed. By the time I got down the mountain I was ready to get some coffee and eat. The weather got better and rain quit, which was nice. Found some little breakfast joint and had some bacon and eggs. Met these old yuppies in their BMW SUV with their Thule rack on top (with no gear) and a carpool placard from Seattle. One of the ladies asked if I was the guy they saw on the mountain yesterday. I told her that it is probably the case and they started telling me how worried for me that they were. I think one of the men was ex military, buzz cut and the attitude. He seemed interested in the trip and unconcerned about my safety, while the other three seemed to think I would die on the road.
By the time I got to Winthrop I was ready to get dried out. Got a hotel room that I had to pay through the nose for due to it being the long weekend and all, but I didn't care. My gear was soaked, and so was I. I washed all my clothes, save the one base layer I kept clean and dry in case things got really bad up there.
I dealt with rain every day for at least a couple of hours or through the night for the rest of the trip. When I got to Twisp I stopped in at a local brewery for a pint, and it was good. There was a concert that night and I considered hanging around to see the band play, a four piece with a stand up bass. I caught the sound check and they sounded pretty hot, but I decided to head up to the top of Loup Loup Pass. There is a Forest Service campground up there, and they are cheap places to stay. This climb was only about a 2:30 or 3 hour climb, nothing like Washington pass. Stayed the night and headed into Tonasket the next morning. Had Master Control (Eric) check the weather for me in Omak. The weather was behind me but heading my way and I probably had three or four hours till it caught up with me. I decided that I would take the next day off and stay at the Junction Motel for two nights. I wanted the weather to pass me by. The next day it rained. Hard agian. I was glad to spend the 50 bucks to be in a tiny room with a bed and access to the Weather Channel.
Headed up Wauconda Pass the next day. It was a hell of a climb but no rain, on the way up or over. That would happen during the night. Got to the campground in Republic and set up camp in the fairgrounds, about a mile from the base of Sherman Pass. Met this cool old man Dwane in the campground drinking a Coors. When I asked where he was from he said that he had been up here in these mountains so long he figured he was from here. He had a big ass dog with him that would not let you stop playing with him. Thprofile suggested that this climb would be significant. The next morning it was raining again. I pulled all my gear into the cabin like shelter they had built for picnics and what not and packed my geare elevation profile suggested that this climb would be significant. The next morning it was raining again. I pulled all my gear into the cabin like shelter they had built for picnics and what not and packed my gear. My stuff had not gotten as wet as it had on the Washington Pass expedition, but it was wet enough to piss me off. I started up the pass, and there was this big flashing sign that said WEATHER ADVISORY TUNE TO 530 AM. Well seeing as how I had no A.M. radio, or F.M. for that matter, I went back 1 km to the gas station to ask if they knew what was up. The lady behind the counter said she didn't know but it could be snowing up there.
As I started back up the pass I figured if I saw a truck coming my way I would throw my thumb out and see if I could catch a ride. I sure as shit did not want to have to deal with snow, especially coming down Sherman Pass with a bike and gear that weighs about 90 lbs. It takes a different skill set to ride a fully loaded bike, and this is especially the case during descents in the rain. You cant just open it up and let it go as fast as it wants, cause it wants to go REALLY FAST downhill. It does not handle as well in the cities either. I learned that the hard way in Seattle.
Anyway, the first pickup that passed me picked me up. He was a nice fellow named Daniel and said he was going all the way to Colville. I said that was where I was headed today (about 60 miles) and if he could ride me there I would much appreciate it. He not only gave me a ride there, but also took me by the bike shop for more tubes (I like to carry two extras) and took me to the bike hostel. I am glad I took that ride, the weather was horrible all day.
The bike hostel was a cool place, when we finally found it (my map told me it was at 807 Hotchkiss Rd, but it was in fact at 870 Hotchkiss) and asked the lady if I should pay her now or in the morning. She looked at me like I was crazy and said "Oh no, there is no charge". The hostel was up near the road, and their home was about a kilometer away from the hostel. I noticed that they were still in the finishing stages of getting their new house sorted, so I asked her if there was anything I could help her with. I am no finish carpenter, but I know to measure twice and cut once. She had me put some signs up on the doors of the hostel so people would know what rooms were occupied. Thank God for kind rich people who have too many houses. These people were not even cyclists, they were just cool.
It stormed that night. All through the night, but cleared up somewhat by morning. I rode the 20 all the way to Newport on the ID border. That was a big day, 80 + miles. It looked like it might rain, so I found another cheap hotel. Good thing too, it rained all night.
I pushed the 30 + miles into Sandpoint ID the next morning in the rain. Promptly found the bike shop and asked them about a laundry and whatnot. Bike shop folks are really helpful to touring folks. I talked to them about the weather and they said it was not supposed to clear for another three to five days. I had had enough of this shit. I had been on the road over a week and had not had a full day of clear weather. I was not prepared to go through another entire set of mountain passes in the rain and possible snow just to say that I could do it. I am on vacation. Vacation is supposed to be fun. And what the hell is the point of doing this if I can't see the damn scenery. I made the decision to take the train and bought new tires.
That was a damn fiasco. I called the Amtrak to get myself sorted to get to Cut Bank, Montana, where I would pick up US 2 again. The Amtrak people told me I could not put on a bike at Sandpoint, the closest place I could do that was Spokane, WA. If I had known that I could have ridden the 40 miles to Spokane from Newport, but since I had come all the way to Sandpoint I was about 80 miles away. I did not like the idea of backtracking. They also told me the bike had to be in a box. The manager of the bike shop, Erin, who is a beautiful and kind woman called up the Amtrak folks to confirm this. She finally got it out of them that if the engineer of the train was OK with it, I could put it on in Sandpoint, but it was up to his discretion. I did not like this answer given that the train comes through Sandpoint headed east at 2:30 am. She volunteered the information that she was going to Spokane to pick up her boyfriend that evening around nine. I was stoked, I could get around this damned weather after all. Doug, the older of the two mechanics was visibly a bit nervous about a strange man hitching a ride with his friend 80 miles south late at night. Then she got a text from him saying that he was stuck in DC and did not know when he would be in. I tore down the bike in the shop (yeah the mechanics were that cool, so I bought a sixer of PBR tall boys), and boxed it. Doug, Tony and I drank the sixer of PBR and that seemed to put Doug more at ease about everything. I waited for a call from Erin. Around nine I called a taxi and had him take me and my gear to the train station. I got prepared to argue with the engineer. I called Julie (the automated Amtrak agent) and started the process of buying the ticket. While doing this, Erin called and said she was, after all, going to Spokane and I can get a ride if I want it. I jumped at the opportunity. I waited for her at the train station, and about a minute before she showed up there was lightning to the west. The storm was coming on fast, and I realized I had made the right decision.
The ride down was a lot of fun. She is a really cool lady. Tony and Doug were awesome as well. Any bike mechanic who lets some stranger in a crappy situation roll into town and use the stand and some tools to tear down his bike is cool. Double cool if all they expect out of the deal is a couple of tall boys.
So I took the train through the night to Shelby. Assembled the bike on the side of the road, got some food and a beer and busted out 40 miles in no time. Had a hell of a tailwind. Got to Chester, MT and camped out in the city park. That is the rule in northern Montana and North Dakota. You can camp in the city park for FREE. How cool is that? The folks in Chester were friendly. Met one guy who had just got his commission in the National Guard, and the bartender gave me her password for the wifi at the library so I could sit out in front and check my email. The next morning I did the 60 miles into Havre Mt before 3 pm, and wasted at least an hour and a half talking to folks on the road. The first was this retired schoolteacher who bought a bar about 30 miles outside Havre. He was an old bike tourer from days gone by. The other was Clay. He was heading West to work on some farm in Washington State. He had come from Minneapolis and told me I would have sweet tailwinds when I got to the North Dakota.
I am going to stay in Havre again tonight. The University of Northern Montana rents out rooms to weary cyclists for 10 bucks a night, and I have been fooling around doing crap that I needed to get done. It is almost 2pm and my next stop is Malta, about 90 miles away, and I am not pulling that before nightfall. Anyway I have had a crazy past seven days, so I figure what the hell, one rest day to push the reset button is probably good.
I will try to update this every three days or so. Finding computers has been spotty, but from what I can tell that will become more consistent the further east I get. I am necessarily not typing this stuff out on my phone.
Peace for now.
The mountains were beautiful, I'm sure. Not that I got to see any of them to speak of. The ride east from Mt. Vernon, WA through the Cascade Range on the 20 to Sandpoint, ID was ridiculous. Not because of the climbs, which were brutal, but because of the weather. I did not encounter 24 rain free hours for that entire leg of the trip.
I left Mt. Vernon in the rain. Not torrential downpour rain, but foggy, dreary rain that compromised visibility and soaked me and all my gear. On the way out of town I bought a pair of over boots for my cycling shoes, which proved to be a wise decision. It cleared up a little on my way to Newhalem, and I got mostly through the night without much precipitation. Newhalem is at the base of the mountains, at about zero ft. elevation. The next day I was to tackle the day long climb to the top of Rainy and Washington Pass (5477 ft). The distance from Newhalem to the top of the pass is only about 45 to 55 miles. I got a ilate start up the mountain, and the weather looked like it would be decent so I was taking it easy, getting some photos and enjoying the long and treacherous climb. About 4 pm I met the rain and it began to get frustrating. At about 7:30 it had become significantly dangerous, and I was soaked. Traffic was heavy, due to it being Memorial Day Weekend, and visibility was near zero. I realized I was putting myself at risk by being on the road, so I looked for a flat piece of ground to set up my tent. If I had known how close I was to the summit I would have probably kept going. I was only maybe two or three miles from the top of Rainy Pass, and I knew there were toilets there, which would have given me significantly more protection from the weather. It rained all through the night. Hard. By the time the sun came up ALL of my gear was soaked, and the rain had not let up. So I got my gear packed and headed up the mountain. I encountered snow and hail as well as the rain that morning. My feet felt like clubs and I was starting to get nervous.
I made the pass, after what felt like hours, although I believe it was only about 45 minutes. I did not check the time, I didn't really want to know. Coming down was at least as dangerous as coming up. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but the fog was still hanging about, and I had what seemed to be a 1000 ft plus death drop on my right without much shoulder on this 7% grade and only a metal guardrail (part of the time) to stop me from hitting the bottom if something were to go wrong. Road conditions were sketchy as hell, wet from a night of rain, and traffic was starting to get heavier. The views were not all that impressive due to the fog and I made it down unscathed. By the time I got down the mountain I was ready to get some coffee and eat. The weather got better and rain quit, which was nice. Found some little breakfast joint and had some bacon and eggs. Met these old yuppies in their BMW SUV with their Thule rack on top (with no gear) and a carpool placard from Seattle. One of the ladies asked if I was the guy they saw on the mountain yesterday. I told her that it is probably the case and they started telling me how worried for me that they were. I think one of the men was ex military, buzz cut and the attitude. He seemed interested in the trip and unconcerned about my safety, while the other three seemed to think I would die on the road.
By the time I got to Winthrop I was ready to get dried out. Got a hotel room that I had to pay through the nose for due to it being the long weekend and all, but I didn't care. My gear was soaked, and so was I. I washed all my clothes, save the one base layer I kept clean and dry in case things got really bad up there.
I dealt with rain every day for at least a couple of hours or through the night for the rest of the trip. When I got to Twisp I stopped in at a local brewery for a pint, and it was good. There was a concert that night and I considered hanging around to see the band play, a four piece with a stand up bass. I caught the sound check and they sounded pretty hot, but I decided to head up to the top of Loup Loup Pass. There is a Forest Service campground up there, and they are cheap places to stay. This climb was only about a 2:30 or 3 hour climb, nothing like Washington pass. Stayed the night and headed into Tonasket the next morning. Had Master Control (Eric) check the weather for me in Omak. The weather was behind me but heading my way and I probably had three or four hours till it caught up with me. I decided that I would take the next day off and stay at the Junction Motel for two nights. I wanted the weather to pass me by. The next day it rained. Hard agian. I was glad to spend the 50 bucks to be in a tiny room with a bed and access to the Weather Channel.
Headed up Wauconda Pass the next day. It was a hell of a climb but no rain, on the way up or over. That would happen during the night. Got to the campground in Republic and set up camp in the fairgrounds, about a mile from the base of Sherman Pass. Met this cool old man Dwane in the campground drinking a Coors. When I asked where he was from he said that he had been up here in these mountains so long he figured he was from here. He had a big ass dog with him that would not let you stop playing with him. Thprofile suggested that this climb would be significant. The next morning it was raining again. I pulled all my gear into the cabin like shelter they had built for picnics and what not and packed my geare elevation profile suggested that this climb would be significant. The next morning it was raining again. I pulled all my gear into the cabin like shelter they had built for picnics and what not and packed my gear. My stuff had not gotten as wet as it had on the Washington Pass expedition, but it was wet enough to piss me off. I started up the pass, and there was this big flashing sign that said WEATHER ADVISORY TUNE TO 530 AM. Well seeing as how I had no A.M. radio, or F.M. for that matter, I went back 1 km to the gas station to ask if they knew what was up. The lady behind the counter said she didn't know but it could be snowing up there.
As I started back up the pass I figured if I saw a truck coming my way I would throw my thumb out and see if I could catch a ride. I sure as shit did not want to have to deal with snow, especially coming down Sherman Pass with a bike and gear that weighs about 90 lbs. It takes a different skill set to ride a fully loaded bike, and this is especially the case during descents in the rain. You cant just open it up and let it go as fast as it wants, cause it wants to go REALLY FAST downhill. It does not handle as well in the cities either. I learned that the hard way in Seattle.
Anyway, the first pickup that passed me picked me up. He was a nice fellow named Daniel and said he was going all the way to Colville. I said that was where I was headed today (about 60 miles) and if he could ride me there I would much appreciate it. He not only gave me a ride there, but also took me by the bike shop for more tubes (I like to carry two extras) and took me to the bike hostel. I am glad I took that ride, the weather was horrible all day.
The bike hostel was a cool place, when we finally found it (my map told me it was at 807 Hotchkiss Rd, but it was in fact at 870 Hotchkiss) and asked the lady if I should pay her now or in the morning. She looked at me like I was crazy and said "Oh no, there is no charge". The hostel was up near the road, and their home was about a kilometer away from the hostel. I noticed that they were still in the finishing stages of getting their new house sorted, so I asked her if there was anything I could help her with. I am no finish carpenter, but I know to measure twice and cut once. She had me put some signs up on the doors of the hostel so people would know what rooms were occupied. Thank God for kind rich people who have too many houses. These people were not even cyclists, they were just cool.
It stormed that night. All through the night, but cleared up somewhat by morning. I rode the 20 all the way to Newport on the ID border. That was a big day, 80 + miles. It looked like it might rain, so I found another cheap hotel. Good thing too, it rained all night.
I pushed the 30 + miles into Sandpoint ID the next morning in the rain. Promptly found the bike shop and asked them about a laundry and whatnot. Bike shop folks are really helpful to touring folks. I talked to them about the weather and they said it was not supposed to clear for another three to five days. I had had enough of this shit. I had been on the road over a week and had not had a full day of clear weather. I was not prepared to go through another entire set of mountain passes in the rain and possible snow just to say that I could do it. I am on vacation. Vacation is supposed to be fun. And what the hell is the point of doing this if I can't see the damn scenery. I made the decision to take the train and bought new tires.
That was a damn fiasco. I called the Amtrak to get myself sorted to get to Cut Bank, Montana, where I would pick up US 2 again. The Amtrak people told me I could not put on a bike at Sandpoint, the closest place I could do that was Spokane, WA. If I had known that I could have ridden the 40 miles to Spokane from Newport, but since I had come all the way to Sandpoint I was about 80 miles away. I did not like the idea of backtracking. They also told me the bike had to be in a box. The manager of the bike shop, Erin, who is a beautiful and kind woman called up the Amtrak folks to confirm this. She finally got it out of them that if the engineer of the train was OK with it, I could put it on in Sandpoint, but it was up to his discretion. I did not like this answer given that the train comes through Sandpoint headed east at 2:30 am. She volunteered the information that she was going to Spokane to pick up her boyfriend that evening around nine. I was stoked, I could get around this damned weather after all. Doug, the older of the two mechanics was visibly a bit nervous about a strange man hitching a ride with his friend 80 miles south late at night. Then she got a text from him saying that he was stuck in DC and did not know when he would be in. I tore down the bike in the shop (yeah the mechanics were that cool, so I bought a sixer of PBR tall boys), and boxed it. Doug, Tony and I drank the sixer of PBR and that seemed to put Doug more at ease about everything. I waited for a call from Erin. Around nine I called a taxi and had him take me and my gear to the train station. I got prepared to argue with the engineer. I called Julie (the automated Amtrak agent) and started the process of buying the ticket. While doing this, Erin called and said she was, after all, going to Spokane and I can get a ride if I want it. I jumped at the opportunity. I waited for her at the train station, and about a minute before she showed up there was lightning to the west. The storm was coming on fast, and I realized I had made the right decision.
The ride down was a lot of fun. She is a really cool lady. Tony and Doug were awesome as well. Any bike mechanic who lets some stranger in a crappy situation roll into town and use the stand and some tools to tear down his bike is cool. Double cool if all they expect out of the deal is a couple of tall boys.
So I took the train through the night to Shelby. Assembled the bike on the side of the road, got some food and a beer and busted out 40 miles in no time. Had a hell of a tailwind. Got to Chester, MT and camped out in the city park. That is the rule in northern Montana and North Dakota. You can camp in the city park for FREE. How cool is that? The folks in Chester were friendly. Met one guy who had just got his commission in the National Guard, and the bartender gave me her password for the wifi at the library so I could sit out in front and check my email. The next morning I did the 60 miles into Havre Mt before 3 pm, and wasted at least an hour and a half talking to folks on the road. The first was this retired schoolteacher who bought a bar about 30 miles outside Havre. He was an old bike tourer from days gone by. The other was Clay. He was heading West to work on some farm in Washington State. He had come from Minneapolis and told me I would have sweet tailwinds when I got to the North Dakota.
I am going to stay in Havre again tonight. The University of Northern Montana rents out rooms to weary cyclists for 10 bucks a night, and I have been fooling around doing crap that I needed to get done. It is almost 2pm and my next stop is Malta, about 90 miles away, and I am not pulling that before nightfall. Anyway I have had a crazy past seven days, so I figure what the hell, one rest day to push the reset button is probably good.
I will try to update this every three days or so. Finding computers has been spotty, but from what I can tell that will become more consistent the further east I get. I am necessarily not typing this stuff out on my phone.
Peace for now.
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