Post 28: Thursday 11 August, from Mazama, Washington

Dear all

I feel deeply happy as I send this.

My home for tonight, perfect!

I write sitting on the porch of a lovely cabin, part of a guest ranch/inn in Mazama, a tiny place in the Methow River valley with mountains rising either side in the evening sun, a cool breeze rustling the pines, and the crickets chirping.

The Methow River, near Mazama

Everything seems peaceful and "right" - and epitomises the joy I have experienced deep down pretty much throughout this trip.

In my last Post I said these closing days would mean mountain passes. Oh yes!..... One a day for the last three days, and a big one again tomorrow.


The top of my record climb, 4100 feet ascent!

On Tuesday I had the longest climb I have ever ridden, 4100 feet of ascent over Sherman's Pass, and 23 miles long. I was nervous beforehand, my previous biggest having been 2500 feet. I was going into unknown territory, and simply didn't know how my limbs would react. Might I blow up?!?
As it happens, Sherman's Pass wasn't steep - mostly 6% - and grinding up it slowly at about 5 mph was OK. It did take me almost 5 hours, though, with stops!

It was hot work too, and there was no breeze as I was in forest. So I welcomed the draft of passing timber trucks; each one gave me a few seconds' cooling.

Trucks are big, but I have had little hassle from them

Yesterday's pass, Wauconda, was much shorter, 1800 feet. In truth I rather enjoyed it, as well as the cafe stop 3 miles down the other side.

Pond on the way up Wauconda Pass

The open road down from Wauconda Pass

Today's, Loup Loup (='wolf wolf'?) gave me 3000 feet of climbing, and partly because it was steeper, and because the last two days had left me a bit weary, I found it harder going.
There was no chance I would break the speed limit....

Ascending Loup Loup pass I can hardly manage 4 mph

The good thing about long climbs is that they are rewarded with long descents. So these days I have had lovely free-wheeling "free miles" as I call them; today I coasted for 9 miles!


Dry and arid, sage brush again

After each pass the scenery has changed. Yesterday, coming down from Wauconda, I was suddenly in a drier sparser landscape - and back to sage brush which was so typical of Wyoming and indeed western Kansas, and which gives a greeny-grey tinge to the landscape. But the wide valley of the Okanogan River benefits from irrigation, and I saw fruit trees for the first time in ages.... And a sign saying "Cherries for sale".

Fruit trees! irrigated from the Okanogan River

Today after Loup Loup I was greeted with a great view of the Cascades, with streaks of snow on the highest peaks; that was another "wow!" moment.


Clouds building over the North Cascade mountains

And tomorrow, after crossing Washington Pass (at 5500 feet) I am told I will be in the Pacific coastal vegetation - wetter, lusher and greener.

Another verdant valley

Certainly these last days are proving as beautiful as any I have had.

An interesting aspect of cycle touring is meeting up again with other cyclists one has met earlier. On Tuesday, for example, I joined Sam (the British guy who hopes to get right down to Argentina) on that big climb. When we got to our shared destination, he decided to use a motel rather than camping. And who should be there already but Sung, the Korean American I had spent an evening with last week.... These random meetings with folk one has already met are fun.

I have mentioned several times in this Blog the booms and busts of mining towns. But yesterday I learnt that fortune hunting in this way still continues. At the cafe where I stopped, the owner was helping an old fellow (who was wearing the most splendid battered hat) to phone someone. I heard snatches of the conversation, but after the old guy left I asked the cafe owner about him. He is known as "Prospector Paul", and he and others - including the man he was trying to phone - do continue to prospect for gold, and make a living from it. Indeed the cafe owner said that Paul had plenty of money!

To me this felt as though the spirit of, say, the various gold rushes of the 19th century lives on.

Two mainstays of the economy here in the north-west seem to be hydroelectricity and timber. I described earlier the hugely long Koocanusa Lake, formed by the Libby Dam. On Tuesday I crossed over the Columbia River at Kettle Falls. This is also known as Franklin D Roosevelt Lake,

The Franklin D Roosevelt Lake

formed by the Grand Coulee Dam (a long way south of where I was), which I think was one of FDR's "New Deal" projects in the 1930s.

Statue commemorating FDR's Civilian Conservation Corps

Coniferous forests are everywhere, as you will have seen in my photos. So are timber trucks (though I find them considerate to me as they pass). And close to the Columbia River I passed an enormous timber processing plant; a huge stack of trunks was being sprayed with water, and trucks were entering constantly - like bees returning to a hive - to discharge their loads.

Timber being sprayed in a huge lumber mill

It is no wonder so many houses are built from wood, and not just the old log-cabin type of dwelling. Nor that wooden furniture is often massive! 

A small forest fire had ignited last night...

But fire is a constant danger in the summer. Just yesterday I passed the remains of a small one which had started overnight, right beside the road. Firefighters had in the main put it out, but the bases of several trees were still smouldering. A helicopter was there, standing by in case it should flare up again and spread. (And last night in my hotel in Okanogan there was a large group of relief firefighters staying, in case they were needed to take over.)

Conifers regenerating after a forest fire some years ago

But when fires do destroy large portions of forest, it is surprising how they regenerate. I cycled the other day through the site of a serious Forest fire at White Mountain a decade or two ago. The tall charred skeleton trunks of the original casualties still stand - very ugly - but a new growth of pines is now a third as tall as the skeletons.



On each of the last three days I have seen deer, a couple of times with fawns. Today I encountered one happily browsing on an obviously delicious bush just on the roadside. I was even able to get a photo. Such instances make one feel very close to nature.

This deer was unconcerned at my closeness

Some more macho RV brand names, to go with "Patriot Thunder" (which made me so grumpy). How about "Inferno" (would you sleep soundly in something called that?)? And "Raptor"?

Two more intriguing road names - "Starvation Ridge Road", and "Last Chance Road". Why? - as I ride, such names set me musing....

Now I have two more days to go. Janet is flying into Seattle as I sit here. What will my emotions be when I arrive in Anacortes on Saturday afternoon? All over the place, I expect (and I've warned Janet and Sue Frank I may burst into tears...)

There will of course be delight at seeing J again. I expect too a sense of relief at not having to carry on pushing the body like this. And surprise combined with satisfaction that I have actually succeeded in meeting the challenge.

But I am sure I will also feel sad that such an extraordinary and intense set of experiences is over - the 'wow' moments, the chance encounters, the great conversations, the chance to learn so much about a great country.

It has been stunningly good.....

I'll let you know, after Saturday!

Till then, as always, thanks for staying with me and spurring me on.

Ken

Evening sky in Okanogan, storm brewing...