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...

Blog Post 27, Monday 8 August, on rest day at Colville, Washington

"You're hauling ass, man!", called out the day cyclist as he passed me.

I hoped he was referring to the weight of my panniers. But he might have meant the size of my derriere..... (Though I have lost about 14 lbs, 5 kgs, in body weight since this trip began.)

Whichever 'ass' he meant, I have hauled it for some big mileages since my last Post, including two 95 mile days. 

Tranquil reflections on Lake Savage

Bull Lake

I have referred earlier in this Blog to the many beautiful lakes in northern Montana. A noteworthy one I cycled along (for 50 miles!) after leaving Eureka was Lake Koocanusa, formed by the Libby Dam, built across a very long but narrow valley, for hydroelectric power in about 1970.

Lake Koocanusa

Some views along it were uplifting, but generally I found it depressing, because there was no human habitation on its shores, and very little human activity, just the odd fishing boat. The Lake and its surroundings all seemed curiously artificial and lifeless, so I was glad to leave it.....

Libby Dam, at the end of Lake Koocanusa

But later that same day I rode alongside the Kootenai River and past pretty lakes and wild mountains like the 'Cabinet Mountains',

The Cabinet Mountains

on my way into Idaho, State no 9 of my trip. 

This photo of me at the State Line was taken by a touring cyclist, Rick, I had earlier met at lunch that day.

Lake Pend Oreille

I spent only one night in Idaho, at Sandpoint, which sits on a huge lake called Pend Oreille (called after yet another the name the French gave to an Indian tribe). I cycled along its shore for at least 20 miles in the late afternoon, and the calm blue water harmonised wonderfully with the blue mountains around.

Sandpoint is a resort town. By and large I find the atmosphere in such towns less interesting than in the many 'ordinary' smaller towns I have passed through. (Resort town prices are far higher too, and my motel bill in them can be 3 or 4 times higher than I typically pay. Ouch!)

Big skies continue in Idaho

There is a festival on just now in Sandpoint. One event which I encountered as I left the town was a mass swim across part of the lake - 1.7 miles. I admire people who can swim that kind of distance, which is well beyond my capabilities. (And I noticed one participant who was doing it butterfly - wow!)

Swimmers crossing Lake Pend Oreille

I was asked a flattering question in a cafe two days ago. One of my two cycling tops dates from 2007, when Julia, Sara, Rhys and I cycled the first stage of the Tour de France (from London to Canterbury);  the tops we all wore had the TdeF logo. Anyway, in the cafe, a guy came up to me and asked, "Excuse me. I notice your top; have you been a participant in the Tour de France?"  Would that I were that good! - it would be easier to 'haul ass'!

I am now in Washington, my tenth and final State. Annoyingly there was no sign to indicate the State Line, which runs through the middle of Newport, in fact through the Safeway store. (Not worth a special photo, I felt.)

The Pend Oreille River

The Pend Oreille River was my companion for a good few hours on Saturday and yesterday. Unlike the fast flowing rivers I accompanied in Montana, this is wide and tranquil, seeming more like a lake.



The calm Pend Oreille River

In past years it was used for floating rafts of logs down river, and at a small place called Usk there were in the River lots of timber piers; I had to ask what they were for - it was to tether the logs for sorting on their journey downstream.

Piers originally for tethering logs going downriver

Talking of photos, I suspect there has been a surfeit of views (yet more mountains, valleys, lakes, rivers, you may have complained!). That's in part because the views are constantly breathtaking, as I have so often said.



Reflections of clouds

But one of the joys of this trip has been the little things there are to observe on the road. They might be an old (1950s?) car advertising I know not what; 

 or some interesting flowerpots;

or an intriguing set of sculptures (perhaps - I am guessing - symbolising the cooperation inherent in the American Indian 'pow-wow');

or a mass of daisies in a meadow.....

I have also twice cycled (literally) under nests constructed on platforms on the tops of telegraph poles;  I think they are nests of bald eagles.

The chicks were plain to see, and making a lot of anxious noise at my presence. And yesterday I noticed a Union Jack - yesss! -  flying beside a house, the first I've seen!

One event I haven't photographed (as Julia, my Art Editor, wasn't there to prompt me) was my first puncture. Or indeed my second.... (I blame a defect in the tyre, because the tyre 'bead' came through the rubber and pierced the inner tube. I have never before heard of this happening. Anyway, the first time it happened I bent the bead away from the tube, which worked for a day. But yesterday it happened again. Happily my stock of spares included a new tyre......)

I have noted several times in this Blog the reflections I have on the fate of the American Indians as the white man took over their land. Two days ago, in one of those chance encounters that are so rewarding, I fell into conversation with a motorcyclist, Bill, who is himself half-Indian and a pastor. He was touring through a number of Indian Reservations, praying - as he put it - for drug abuse and alcoholism. I remarked that in the two Reservations I have cycled through I saw no signs of effort to maintain or restore Indian customs and heritage. I am pleased to say that he contradicted me;  it varies from tribe to tribe, he said, but in some there is a real and successful attempt to keep the old traditions and attitudes.

But I suspect it is a very uphill battle. I had dinner two evenings ago with another cyclist, Sung. He lives in Chicago but is Korean by birth. He told me he is sometimes mistaken for 'Native American', and he often gets verbal abuse: "Get back to your Reservation!". He says there is still, by some, real hatred (his word) for the Indians.

As you can tell from my preoccupation with it, this aspect of American history is the one dark area I have encountered. (I should add that I have had very little contact indeed with black Americans; my route has taken me through overwhelmingly white areas. Had I been, say, through the Deep South, my preoccupations would doubtless be different.)

Some of the conversations I get into, in which people ask me about this adventure of mine, lead into a revelation of their dreams too. At breakfast in my Sandpoint motel, the waitress told me that when she retires in five years time, she and her husband are going to go sailing round the South Pacific, and she can't wait. May her dream be fulfilled as happily as mine is being!

My own dream, of course, is coming towards its end. Five more days of cycling, after 66 riding days so far, and less than 350 miles left. I can't really believe it....

Mountain silhouettes before sunrise

The challenge ain't over yet, though. The first four of those five days involve going over four mountain passes here in N Washington, in all involving 13,000 feet of climbing!  That's more intense climbing than either the Appalachians or the Rockies - oh dear....

I hope therefore I'm not too exhausted to give Janet that huge hug when we meet, with Sue Frank, beside the ocean at Anacortes on Saturday! (Janet flies on Wednesday to Washington DC for one night with Gary and Jamie Usrey, then on to Seattle on Thursday.)

I shall Post once more before Anacortes. And until then, thank you (I know I keep saying this, but it is very true) for supporting and encouraging me thus far.

All best wishes, Ken



Post 26, Wednesday 3 August, from Eureka, Montana

Hi all

This is my second Eureka; the first was in Kansas and seems a very long time ago. This one is less than 10 miles from the Canadian border, so I have ridden almost the length of Montana, about 600 miles just in the one State.

Summit Lake in Clearwater Valley

 And it remains beautiful, and I think of all the 8 States I have been through, it has given me my best cycling so far. But Washington, and the N Cascade mountains, may yet eclipse it.....

The Flathead River at Columbia Falls, MT

 One of the features of northern Montana is the large number of lakes. Typically they have pine-clad shores, but they look tranquil and tempting, and clearly lots of folk holiday on them. Most are formed by dams (for hydro-electricity, I am guessing). Some are huge; tomorrow I shall cycle along Lake Koocanusa for at least 50 miles!

The turquoise waters of Dickey Lake

It's the mountains that make the scenery special, though, and every day there have been too many photos to take.

More majestic Montana mountains (note the alliteration!)

Sometimes, though, my route goes through National Forest lands (and logging is one of Montana's main industries), but I have to say I would rather have the broad vistas of the wide valley basins and the majestic mountains. Cycling through forest for mile after mile is boring in comparison!

Even on a beautiful day cycling through the National Forest can be boring!

I am constantly struck be how green the countryside looks. And now I understand a little more why this should be. The winter and spring were clesrly exceptionally wet. The other day, idly flicking through a local paper in a cafe, and I saw a chart comparing the current depths and flow of a number of major Montana rivers with their normal rates at this time of year. Both depth and flow were typically double!

Rivers are fast-flowing this year

 Cycling has continued to be very social. The evening after doing my last Post, in Missoula, I had dinner with no fewer than 6 other cyclists (and one local resident who was a friend of two of them). The 6 were Graham and Wendy, the Kiwis (who enjoyed teasing this Pom), Ben and Olive (the honeymoon TransAmmers from Seattle) and also a German couple who have, it seems, done major tours together every year for 30 years. An evening in such company was great fun.

Sociable cyclists' dinner in Missoula

 Now I am off the main TransAm route I expected to see fewer cycle tourists. But today, following a chance encounter for breakfast with one cyclist travelling westwards, I then met on the road a young British guy, Sam, who having been made redundant from his job in London reckons he will cycle on down the US west coast, through Mexico, and eventually get to Argentina, taking perhaps two years! We cycled together for 30 miles or so today, and will doubtless meet up again in the next few days. And it turns out he lived only 2 miles from where we were in London!

Sam, from Britain, who is cycling to Argentina!

I will confess to beginning to feel tired; perhaps that isn't surprising. But after my rest day in Missoula I found it hard mentally to get going again, and I felt low through that first day, just wishing I could magic myself to Anacortes and 13 August. I expressed those feelings in my daily email to family and close friends. 'TransAm Mike' (with whom and his wife Joan I hooked up for several days way back in Virginia) emailed me back reminding me to 'enjoy'. I had forgotten the lesson that it's about the journey not about the destination; so I am now back to enjoying the days and the moments, sights, encounters, etc, that comprise each day. Mike's advice was wise and timely.

Harvesting the hay

 Let me share a superb story of supreme customer service.... On Sunday, I took my bike into the Open Road bike store in Missoula for a check. When I collected it, I didn't notice the pump was not in its clip on the frame. (Without a pump, of course, one is totally stuck if one has a puncture.)

In the evening I was approaching the restaurant where I had arranged to meet Graham and Wendy, and Olive and Ben (as mentioned above). I saw that outside it was Adam, the mechanic from the bike shop. "Ken, here's your pump," he said. He had found it in his workshop while closing up for the day (having taken it off my bike while working on it), and because he had overheard the dinner arrangement I was making with Graham while in the shop, he took the pump home, then drove specially to the restaurant to meet me there.

Adam and Andrew, from the Open Road bike store

 I find that an amazing example of service; thank you Adam!

You may recall my recent rant about RVs and how absurd some of them seem. Yesterday I was able to photograph a couple more which for me typified their excess.

"Patriot Thunder" RV

 I had seen a "Patriot Thunder" RV before, and was amazed by its size - but also by its name. I wonder if there is an RV make called "Shock and Awe"? (or does the Pentagon have copyright over that name??!!). I prefer the brand name I saw an altogether more modest RV trailer - "Joy Feather".

Driving to recreation!

 A few more names that I have noted, from the mountains, valleys, and creeks which I pass by: "Broken Leg Mountain" must have a story. "Soup Creek" and "Fatty Creek" sound unusual. But "Lost Creek"? (How do you lose a creek?) And I have enjoyed "Many Lakes Road", and, today, "Farm to Market Road"....

I shall Post again on Monday, which is my next (and last) rest day. By then I shall have passed through northern Idaho (one night only) and will be in Washington.

And in closing might I just insert a gentle reminder about The Stroke Association, for which this ride of mine seeks donations? Thank you.     http://www.justgiving.com/Ken-Temple

All best wishes, Ken

Post 25: Sunday 31 July, having a rest day in Missoula, Montana

Missoula is big, with a population of 57,000. So the ride in yesterday was a culture shock! - I had started the day in Darby, a one street town with 710 residents. And now I am in a city with affluent streets and houses.

A lovely suburban house in Missoula

Missoula County Court House

 But Montana has continued very beautiful.

A craggy gorge on the Bitterroot River

 And I have been blessed by wonderful weather; the last few mornings have been cloudless, and the colours - the lush green of the irrigated hay, the darker greens the trees, the yellow/brown of the parched scrublands higher up the slopes, and the blues, streaked often with white snow, of distant mountains, have been breathtaking.

The Bitterroot River, near Darby

(I have learnt that the irrigation in some places is to permit a third cutting of hay this summer; Montana hay is high quality, and some Kentucky race-horse stables will come here to buy their hay supplies.)

So I greatly enjoyed cycling along the Big Hole Valley basin, out of which I climbed to Chief Joseph Pass, my ninth and last crossing of the Continental Divide.

 From there (at 7200 feet +) I have now dropped to little more than 3000 feet in Missoula. One obvious difference at the lower altitude is seeing deciduous trees again; I had grown used to a visual diet of conifers for days and days. Another difference is that it is much hotter down here....

I am now in the Bitterroot River valley, which began as a gorge but is now a wide glaciated basin like those I have recently been through. The flanking mountains, though, have stayed close, giving good views of the steep valleys up to the peaks - at 9-10,000 feet - with the snow still lingering on some.

The Bitterroot Mountains, South of Missoula

 Chief Joseph was a chief of the Nez Perce Indians. On my way up to the Pass I visited the site of Big Hole Battlefield, which is now a National Historical Site, and done very well as such places always are. The battle was an engagement between Nez Perce Indians and US forces in 1877. In summary, the US authorities revoked a treaty with the Nez Perce signed earlier, which had restricted the Nez Perce to a particular area in the NW, pretty much where their ancestral homelands were, for hundreds of years, maybe thousands.... The reason for revoking the treaty was that gold had been found, in the lands safeguarded for the NP, and settlers, stockmen and miners regarded it as their 'Manifest Destiny' to move onto Nez Perce land. Some NP, but not all, signed a new treaty reducing their lands by 90% (yes, 90%!). But many NP did not regard themselves bound by that, and friction turned to hostilities. One group of NP were trekking towards the area assigned to them, but later than required, and US troops were pursuing them to force compliance. The 'battle' at Big Hole River - according to the video I watched - began as a massacre; the US soldiers surrounded the NP camp in the early hours, and when one Indian was in danger of discovering them as he went to check on the horses, they shot him then opened fire into the camp, firing into the Tee-pees, and then setting fire to many of them, and mainly killing women and children. Some of the NP warriors were able to regroup and inflicted big losses on the troops. But the upshot of this 'battle' was that many NP reckoned they could never feel secure in the US, and trekked to Canada.

I found it a very disturbing story, as I had found the story of the Sand Creek Massacre back in Kansas (at much the same time). I brooded on it as I cycled on.

I have commented in this Blog that they do their historical things very well here. But the perspective is often purely white man's history ignoring what happened for centuries before. One information board I read recently beside the road pointed out that one tribe, the Salish, had probably lived in that area for 8000 years....

Anyway, let me get to more prosaic topics.

It has been fun to meet up with more cyclists in recent days. Paul, from Illinois, is a teacher whose wife allows him four weeks each summer to go touring. We had breakfast together in Wisdom, and I learnt a lot from him.

I also met (because I encountered them on the road mending a 'flat') two ladies on a short three day tour, and we had a fun dinner together later that day.

Then in Darby, two evenings ago, coming out of my cabin-room, I was hailed by 5 guys from Cincinnati, Ohio, who cycle together each summer for two or three weeks; they are sort of doing the TransAm in stages. They adopted me for the evening, and it was fun to talk bikes as well as an opportunity for me to learn more about the US generally. Such chance encounters are one of the real joys of touring!

My daily eating habits have evolved into a routine - if circumstances permit. I like to have oatmeal (=porridge) and toast and tea for breakfast, either in my motel (if it's provided), or in a cafe. (Sometimes cafes provide breakfast from 6 am.).

Then, though - if there is a restaurant or cafe at the right time - at around 10, I like a second breakfast, perhaps an omelette (=protein) and toast. I had a wonderful omelette yesterday in a beautiful cafe called "Memories" in a tiny place called Corvallis.....

Memories cafe, outside...

... and inside

Or, if that's not possible, but there is somewhere to eat at around noon, then a toasted BLT sandwich and iced tea goes down well! (Iced tea here is called simply "tea"; English-type tea is known as "hot tea"!) As well as these more substantial refuelling stops, I also stop to snack from my own supplies every 10 or 12 miles: baby doughnuts, choc chip cookies, energy bars, 'trail-mix' (=mixed nuts and dried fruits) or whatever.

And then my evening meal will have as much pasta or rice as possible! But no, I am not yet getting fat!

I have to confess, though, that I am now feeling cumulatively a little weary, and part of me would simply like to finish. Perhaps not surprising after 3,400 miles.... 12 more cycling days (and one more rest day, after today), along my revised 'northern' route, including the Northern Cascade mountains in Washington. It promises to be very beautiful, again. Then I should get to Anacortes on Saturday 13 August. Roll on, both my wheels and the time!

I know some readers think I'm a bit crazy. But my friend Steve Lant (from Newcastle) has told me of a Geordie guy who is running across the States, from California to New York City, aiming to do it in 100 days (31 miles a day). So far he is a bit behind target but has done 90 days - would you believe?! - and has 410 miles to go. Now as an adventure or challenge that is crazy beyond belief!! (He has a website/blog: www.rungeordierun.com )

Two more noteworthy names to share with you: a local Montana beer is called "Moose Drool" - appetizing? Not sure..... But this roadside advert which I saw yesterday must take the prize!

With best wishes, and continuing thanks for your interest and support,

Ken

Early morning shadows