Author: sbw

I‘m feeling good and hitting my stride; the nerves have receded, thanks in large part to making Washington Pass yesterday. Today featured another pass in the morning, Loup Loup Pass, at 4020 feet. The Methow Valley was beautiful, but the thing about a valley is eventually you gotta climb out it. And I did! It was different from yesterday, which had a lot of tough, steeper sections. This was just 10 miles of solid, constant climbing at about a 4-6% grade. (Joyce, it was a little like the Elroy-Sparta trail, but more.) Totally manageable, but wearing.

Then it was seven miles downhill at a 6% grade (chilly even with a jacket, gloves, and hat), ending at the bottom of an enormous half-mile hill, followed by some normal-ass riding, and then four more miles down at 5%. And now you know all about my hills.

Then I was in the Colville Reservation, down in the valley. Flatter, warmer, less recreational traffic, more farmland. There were ups and downs, but gentler, and the landscape was brown and grey-green and purple and soft.

I wasn’t done riding when I got to my intended destination for the evening, Riverside, so I rode on to Tonasket, a town that appears mostly to host highway repair crews working in the area. There’s decent-sized Mexican population, enough that my dinner from Pablo’s taco truck was delicious and muy autentico. I couldn’t confirm the existence of a campground, so I am shacked up for the evening at a motel conveniently attached to a 24-hour convenience store. Expect snack news.

I climbed a damn mountain! Today is the day I’ve most feared since I started planning this trip: two passes, one of them at nearly 5500 feet, just four days into the ride. And it was indeed hard. And slow. Today’s 65 miles took me 10.5 hours (including stops); in contrast, 75 miles to the Indiana Dunes recently took me eight hours, albeit with a stiff tailwind. Which I also had today! It was a lovely gift, and, along with the cooler weather, eased the pain of the climbing.

And I climbed. Thirty-plus miles of climbing, starting with a brutal two-mile hill right out of the campground. It did boost my confidence when, on a tent-drying break, I met two guys in spandex who told me they were averaging just under 13 mph. I was at, like, 5. But fully loaded!

There were dozens of lovely personal-sized (and several industrial-sized) waterfalls along the way. It is damp and lush and green, and I am here for it.

I was sort of hoping the first pass, Rainy Pass, would sneak up on me, like, whoops, you did it! But my device let me know it was coming, I guess because it was a major landmark.

Then I kept climbing, and surprise: Washington Pass, at 5477 feet, *did* sneak up on me. What! No warning (I mean, aside from all the dang climbing) and suddenly I was there, the highest pass of the trip. [Editor note: This actually turned out not to be true. Sherman Pass was higher, but entailed less climbing because I started out higher.]

I have no idea how accurate the elevation and max speed are—I’ve read elevation can be off, and I often experience the speed as inaccurate, but, dear reader, those roughly 4000 feet of descent were terrifying. I rode my brakes the whole way down, sometimes alternating hands to give one a rest.

And then, after a brief but intense squall that soaked me completely, it was 30 miles to Winthrop, where I got the whole adorable North Cascades Mountain Hostel to myself and did laundry and had a BLT and beer in a saloon in this Western-themed tourist town.

We are in the mountains (thus the lack of cell service and the post-facto post). Today featured the first real climbing of the trip, though nothing compared to tomorrow, when I hit two major passes; the second, Washington Pass, is now the highest of the trip, since Logan Pass in Glacier is closed through at least the beginning of July due to snow. I discovered today that when I am climbing on a consistent but manageable grade I repeat to myself ”slow and steady slow and steady slow and steady.” When the grade grows severe I am reduced to mumbling ”okay okay okay okay.” Less instructive, more coping.

North Cascades National Park is gorgeous. It is the most beautiful place I have ridden, hands down. I had a life-affirming tailwind, and the weather was ideal, and really it was an excellent day of riding.

I went through a tunnel! It was a little scary, but you press a button before entering that tells cars there’s a bike in there. And it is presumably better than going over the thing they tunneled through.

Every road-side stop was eye-popping, with rushing green river against snow-capped peaks. I luxuriated, knowing I had only 38 miles to cover, and even with my lazy 10 a.m. departure I got to the campground by 3:30.

Colonial Creek Campground, which was fully booked when I tried to reserve a site a few weeks ago, does indeed have a hiker/biker site, though they had trouble remembering which site it was, since I am—the ranger told me—their first cyclist of the season! And it was free! After stashing everything in the bear safe, I went for a hike on Thunder Creek Trail. Because why not follow up riding with hiking?

Fell asleep while reading around 8:30 (not the fault of my book, Courtroom 302, which is a so-far-fascinating examination of the Cook County criminal justice system.

Today was much drier and, in related news, much better. The rain stopped around 2 a.m., and I was able to pack up under a picnic shelter this morning. After having dried all my clothing under the bathroom hand dryer (a godsend!) last night, I dried each piece of the tent this morning. Such a relief not to have to pack and carry a wet tent. And then it didn’t really even rain! There were occasional showers, but it was sunny and in the high 60s much of the day—perfect riding weather. Everything but my socks and shoes got dry. After weighing the options, I went with bare feet in wet shoes—seemed like the best shot for the scant sun to dry them. Such are the choices on bike tour.

The riding was beautiful. Some real climbs and descents (my device says I hit 40 mph!) and a lot of riding along rivers, first the North Fork Stillaguamish then the Sauk. Tonight’s campground, Howard Miller Steelhead Park, is on the Skagit.

The campground! When I arrived, the camp host told me the tent sites are flooding, and they’d best put me in “the Adirondacks,” which turns out to be a three-sided shelter with bunk beds, a covered picnic table, ample electric, and water. And there’s WiFi! This is a posher setup than I could have dreamed of, and I am feeling pretty good. Off for a shower, and then a relaxed evening in the bunkhouse with my Kindle .

First day! It rained literally all day (and continues to rain and will continue to rain), so I don’t have much in the way of pictures. But I spent most of the second half of the day on an excellent trail, and that was cool. I also enjoyed dodging slugs (is it a slug or a branch!?) on the road, a fun rainy-times riding game. They are fat and plenty out here. Now I’m damply ensconced in my tent following a lively session of bathroom hand dryer clothes drying. Gonna nod off to the sound of rain on the tent and try not to focus on wet morning logistics.