So I survived the night of horrible mosquitoes. Stuffing a feast of hamburgers while attempting to keep the bugs out of my mouth was not enjoyable; returning to Bellingham and its bookstores was. I spent the day cruising along the coastal agricultural lands and it was simply pleasant. Later in the day I decided to take a side trip to Anacortes, having been here twice before. The stop at Safeway continued my search for bananas that were actually ripe, once again I failed. I was tired and decided to stop at the elementary school to camp in its back field.
The next day I continued along and felt the scary rush of trucks as they rumbled across the Deception Pass bridge. It was pretty nice, but HWY 20 was simply too busy. As soon as I got off the main route riding was enjoyable on Wibley Island once again. Then it was on the ferry and finally I was on the Olympic Peninsula after dreaming of it many times. Port Townsend with its abundance of historic structures was endearing. I bought a book of John Wesley Powell's travels and visited the library and local farmers' market. Simply a beautiful town and thanks to the local bicycle club I had cycling maps for half of the peninsula. I set off and near Sequim came upon two cyclists riding the coast. We decided to camp together and had a relaxed evening and warm showers.
The next day we leisurely cycled the Olympic Discovery trail, which was largely on multi-use paths. At Port Angeles they took the ferry to Victoria while I loaded up with four days food. At the post office picking up my package I found Chandler. We caught up on the last two days apart and then after debating what to do decided to cycle up Hurricane Ridge. We camped that night outside the road on a blockaded road. Hanging the bear bag that night was tricky, but I made it down the tree safely. The next day Chandler and I enjoyed the constant grades on the climb to Hurricane Ridge. From sea level to over five thousand seemed easy and at the top we could see into the heart of the Olympic Mountain range and across the waters to Victoria and Bellingham. It was a thrilling descent all the way down! We feasted on chicken from Safeway. While we were eating I saw the Canadian cyclists who I thought were long past. It was a grand happy reunion! Then the ferry came in and Frank and Jarred where back! We joined forces and the party train left Port Angeles. We tried to find a place to camp off a insanely steep gravel road and almost camp in the middle of a dirt bike trail. Great randomness continued as my friend Nina got in touch with me via my horrible phone and we had a place to camp at Luke's just up the road. It boosted our spirits once again and the ride along Crescent Lake in the evening was calming. Luke's place on the lake was unbelievable and he was an awesome host along with all the rest. All four of us jumped into the lake. I was happy to see my friends again.
We decided to press onto Forks for Independence Day. At Luke's suggestion we took the mountain bike trail on the North side of the lake and it was a great adventure. We dove into the most beautiful cove I've ever seen! We charged towards Forks and found all the surrounding campgrounds full. But Frank and Jarred came up big time by finding a local hotel owner who let us camp on their back lawn. We watched cars being destroyed at the demolition derby. Then we feasted. Four hungry male cyclists celebrated the 4th of July with 4 Lbs of hamburger, 4 hot dogs, 1 Lb of bacon, a bag of potato chips, 1/2 Lb of cheese, a pound of veggies, and an onion. It was so much food we had to wait a half hour to polish off the large apple pie and milk shakes;-) The next day we had a meal of sausage, eggs and torillas. During breakfast a guy offered on of us $20 to be his partner in the horseshoe competition. Jarred had a great arm and unfortunately lost just out of the money round. Then the three cycled South and I went to Rialto Beach. It was overcast on my return to the Pacific, which put me in a reflective mood.
The next morning it was raining along my coastal campsite and picture taking was not an option. I headed out and back to Forks. By that evening I made it to the Hoh Rainforest and met Taylor, another cyclist on the coast. At dawn I hiked thru the moss drapped rainforest that forced one to slow and contemplate the length of time. Then I cycled out and spent one final night along the Pacific. Taylor and I walked the beach each on our own and then shared a 6-pack of brew. Once again rain, heavy rain found us in the morning. I joined up with a British couple and a Portland women and together we bore thru the rain. We all stopped at the local cafe and admist small puddles at our feet I ate a monster burger, fries, and a bowl of chili with ease. I stopped at the library and discovered my friend Nina was not going to be in Seattle this weekend so I decided to pass on a night with the cyclists in one of the nicest campgrounds of the trip. I missed an important turn and this forced me to cycle an extra 30-40 miles. It was maddening and depressing! And the campground that night was up a brutal hill in the dark! At least I got a shower and had a nice fire to warm the humid darkness. The next day at lunch I was afraid my pace was too slow to make the ferry and I used the last few weeks of riding to rush onwards. It was exhausting and there were some STEEP coastal hills that I was forced to climb. I rolled into Bremerton in good time and had a wonderful nap on the ferry ride across to Seattle. I awoke greatly rested just in time to see the skyline of Seattle dominating the horizon across Puget Sound. Then I was on solid ground and thus completed my ride. Except for the ride uphill into the wind to my friends' house. But there old friends and good food and brews at the end.
Welcome ya'll, This site is dedicated to sharing my stories and photos with family and friends. I hope you enjoy it and leave a comment, marking your passing. Now it's time to get out and ride!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Up and Over and Again
Oops, it's been such a while since my last update. So here's the nitty gritty along with lots of written verbage.
So I left Omak in search of the dreamed of Safeway and Wal-Mart and somehow managed to bypass them both. It was either three miles back into the headwind or wait until Twisp. And so the decision was made that found me climbing the steep, oh so steep, slopes of Loup Loup Pass in the heat of the afternoon. On the early slopes of the climb I passed the sad shacks of the local farm workers. Poverty was most evident. Yet for me the climb started from the bottom and was accompanied by the first heat of the trip. I was suffering in no time. I couldn't go fast enough, couldn't drink water fast enough, couldn't find cool water fast enough. It was a slugfest of will and I was in the heat of it. Luckily I caught what had to be my last wind and happened upon what looked like an artesian well, which I filtered anyway just to be safe. I made the top of Loup Loup and descended a half mile to the campground, but found none of the promised water. Pissed galore I cycled the half mile back to the top of the pass and into another campsite. The water from the faucet had a fair tint of brown, but its water. Ate and napped and then moved back into the woods to stealth camp. Found a nice spot among the aromatic Ponderosa pines and was enjoying reading my book, every so often glancing about when some bird sang or a squirrel chattered. It was around 8 pm when I heard a sound and looking over found a bear feeding about. It was close, too close. If it was 30 yards closer we would have been reading the same book! It wandered off, but when it turned around I spooked it off. Ten minutes later it was back and knew I was there and so was food. This was a big grizzly bear and I ain't much practiced at grinning down a "bare" like Davey Crockett, yet I managed to make it out of there fast with clean laundry. I descended the Pass and found a new camp and hiked up the ridge to see the beautiful sunset with the Methow Valley hills below and the snow peaked Cascades in the distance.
Then just before dusk I heard what sounded like three bears just past the illumination of my headlamp, but I couldn't tell for sure and it was too dark to ride so I simply went back to sleep. At dawn I cycled into Twisp with my nerves a bit rattled. Found a bakery and then the grocery store. Cycled to Winthrop, a Western themed town, and hung out there.. The Canadians showed up and we exchanged stories. I bought a much needed pair of cycling socks. Decided to head out of town, but the winds punished me dearly. I'm stubborn though and I pressed on, not wanting to cycle this piece of beautiful road in weekend traffic. Found an okay camp, but was still afraid to be in the woods alone due to last night's excitement.
The next morning I crested Washington Pass in the North Cascades after pausing for lots of pictures. The wall of the rocky ridge bounded on the right by Liberty Bell simply grabs a person's eyes and holds them there like a beautiful woman. At the viewpoint I starred for a long while. Then it was a short ride to Rainy Pass where I had lunch with a young Swedish cyclist. After eating a lot of food I walked to Rainy Lake which was nice, but not enough, so I began walking the Maple Pass loop. I didn't know exactly how long the trail was, but it went up and the scenery kept getting better. After about two miles I was high enough that large patches of snow still clung to the North slopes; in my sandals it made for some cold feet but I really wanted to see the view from the top. I attained the corniced Pass and the distant line of glacier crested mountains capped by puffy clouds looking towards the towering Glacier Peak was so so wonderful! I felt like jumping up and down, crying, dancing a jig and running into the mountains' heart. Instead I took picture after picture that simply didn't begin to capture the scene. I could see mountains in all directions and snow continuing along the trail. I dashed across each stretch of cold whiteness and at each bare rock tried to warm my frigid feet. It took a while to reach the trailhead, but I eventually made it and my feet thawed out. And so I have accomplished my dream of walking in the Cascade Mountains. Yet I was starving so I made dinner and then changed back into my cycling clothes and climbed back up to the Washington Pass viewpoint to camp on the windswept rock outcropping. The temperature dropped to near freezing that night.
The next day I spent my time descending from the mountains towards the ocean. Along the way I saw Desolation Peak where Jack Kerouac manned a fire tower in the 50s; the experience would serve as inspiration for some of his stories. The side winds near Diablo Dam forced me to cling to the handlebars and hope that the wind would not topple my bicycle on the rushing descent. I hung about Marblemount for a few hours and then camped amongst the mosquitoes in the woods. The following morning I enjoyed biscuits n'gravy before cycling thru to Sedro Wooly. There I bought another snack and then went on a side trip to Burlington where I did my laundry and ran errands. In the afternoon on the way out of town I missed a turn, but my route was more direct so it worked out well. paid for the expensive primitive at Larrabee State Park. All things worked out well because I met Chandler, I cyclist from New York, and after we viewed a nice sunset some incredibly nice folks gave us leftovers from a birthday party. We feasted on hamburgers and chips, along with some cold brews.
The next morning we continued the beautiful ride along Chuckanut Drive and shortly arrived in Bellingham. We saw the sign to the Alaska ferry and wished for the great adventure, but reason barely won out. Bellingham was a swell looking town and I was glad that Chandler was as excited as me to explore the town a while. We perused a local antique store, caught up with the news at the local library, had lunch on the lawn, strolled the downtown streets, looked thru the local bike shop, spent time searching the shelves of a most wonderful used book store, and had a cold brew at one of the local breweries. Around four we left town and cycled the country roads to the Canadian border. There we split ways, hopping to meet again and I visited the International Peace Arch Park. It was a beautiful green borderland with a large white mason arch and both flags planted with flowers. Then I cycled back South alone having reached another milestone.
P.S To the one in the ditch under the bridge beside the road. Had I been blinded by the beautiful scenery, the rarest of wonderful cheery personalities would not have diminished my impressions. Was your trip in Glacier incredible?
So I left Omak in search of the dreamed of Safeway and Wal-Mart and somehow managed to bypass them both. It was either three miles back into the headwind or wait until Twisp. And so the decision was made that found me climbing the steep, oh so steep, slopes of Loup Loup Pass in the heat of the afternoon. On the early slopes of the climb I passed the sad shacks of the local farm workers. Poverty was most evident. Yet for me the climb started from the bottom and was accompanied by the first heat of the trip. I was suffering in no time. I couldn't go fast enough, couldn't drink water fast enough, couldn't find cool water fast enough. It was a slugfest of will and I was in the heat of it. Luckily I caught what had to be my last wind and happened upon what looked like an artesian well, which I filtered anyway just to be safe. I made the top of Loup Loup and descended a half mile to the campground, but found none of the promised water. Pissed galore I cycled the half mile back to the top of the pass and into another campsite. The water from the faucet had a fair tint of brown, but its water. Ate and napped and then moved back into the woods to stealth camp. Found a nice spot among the aromatic Ponderosa pines and was enjoying reading my book, every so often glancing about when some bird sang or a squirrel chattered. It was around 8 pm when I heard a sound and looking over found a bear feeding about. It was close, too close. If it was 30 yards closer we would have been reading the same book! It wandered off, but when it turned around I spooked it off. Ten minutes later it was back and knew I was there and so was food. This was a big grizzly bear and I ain't much practiced at grinning down a "bare" like Davey Crockett, yet I managed to make it out of there fast with clean laundry. I descended the Pass and found a new camp and hiked up the ridge to see the beautiful sunset with the Methow Valley hills below and the snow peaked Cascades in the distance.
Then just before dusk I heard what sounded like three bears just past the illumination of my headlamp, but I couldn't tell for sure and it was too dark to ride so I simply went back to sleep. At dawn I cycled into Twisp with my nerves a bit rattled. Found a bakery and then the grocery store. Cycled to Winthrop, a Western themed town, and hung out there.. The Canadians showed up and we exchanged stories. I bought a much needed pair of cycling socks. Decided to head out of town, but the winds punished me dearly. I'm stubborn though and I pressed on, not wanting to cycle this piece of beautiful road in weekend traffic. Found an okay camp, but was still afraid to be in the woods alone due to last night's excitement.
The next morning I crested Washington Pass in the North Cascades after pausing for lots of pictures. The wall of the rocky ridge bounded on the right by Liberty Bell simply grabs a person's eyes and holds them there like a beautiful woman. At the viewpoint I starred for a long while. Then it was a short ride to Rainy Pass where I had lunch with a young Swedish cyclist. After eating a lot of food I walked to Rainy Lake which was nice, but not enough, so I began walking the Maple Pass loop. I didn't know exactly how long the trail was, but it went up and the scenery kept getting better. After about two miles I was high enough that large patches of snow still clung to the North slopes; in my sandals it made for some cold feet but I really wanted to see the view from the top. I attained the corniced Pass and the distant line of glacier crested mountains capped by puffy clouds looking towards the towering Glacier Peak was so so wonderful! I felt like jumping up and down, crying, dancing a jig and running into the mountains' heart. Instead I took picture after picture that simply didn't begin to capture the scene. I could see mountains in all directions and snow continuing along the trail. I dashed across each stretch of cold whiteness and at each bare rock tried to warm my frigid feet. It took a while to reach the trailhead, but I eventually made it and my feet thawed out. And so I have accomplished my dream of walking in the Cascade Mountains. Yet I was starving so I made dinner and then changed back into my cycling clothes and climbed back up to the Washington Pass viewpoint to camp on the windswept rock outcropping. The temperature dropped to near freezing that night.
The next day I spent my time descending from the mountains towards the ocean. Along the way I saw Desolation Peak where Jack Kerouac manned a fire tower in the 50s; the experience would serve as inspiration for some of his stories. The side winds near Diablo Dam forced me to cling to the handlebars and hope that the wind would not topple my bicycle on the rushing descent. I hung about Marblemount for a few hours and then camped amongst the mosquitoes in the woods. The following morning I enjoyed biscuits n'gravy before cycling thru to Sedro Wooly. There I bought another snack and then went on a side trip to Burlington where I did my laundry and ran errands. In the afternoon on the way out of town I missed a turn, but my route was more direct so it worked out well. paid for the expensive primitive at Larrabee State Park. All things worked out well because I met Chandler, I cyclist from New York, and after we viewed a nice sunset some incredibly nice folks gave us leftovers from a birthday party. We feasted on hamburgers and chips, along with some cold brews.
The next morning we continued the beautiful ride along Chuckanut Drive and shortly arrived in Bellingham. We saw the sign to the Alaska ferry and wished for the great adventure, but reason barely won out. Bellingham was a swell looking town and I was glad that Chandler was as excited as me to explore the town a while. We perused a local antique store, caught up with the news at the local library, had lunch on the lawn, strolled the downtown streets, looked thru the local bike shop, spent time searching the shelves of a most wonderful used book store, and had a cold brew at one of the local breweries. Around four we left town and cycled the country roads to the Canadian border. There we split ways, hopping to meet again and I visited the International Peace Arch Park. It was a beautiful green borderland with a large white mason arch and both flags planted with flowers. Then I cycled back South alone having reached another milestone.
P.S To the one in the ditch under the bridge beside the road. Had I been blinded by the beautiful scenery, the rarest of wonderful cheery personalities would not have diminished my impressions. Was your trip in Glacier incredible?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)