JUNE 12 Winthrop to Tonasket
We left Winthrop a bit later than we had planned, taking time to chat with Tom over breakfast (He made us toast and scrambled eggs.... altogether, he was an amazingly generous host. I hope we meet more people like him. Thank You Tom!!) The first ten miles, from Winthrop to Twisp, went by quickly, riding downhill with a light tailwind. After Twisp, we began to climb again. The climb to Loup Loup Pass was fairly gradual... 3-6% grade... but it was continuous, climbing for 8 miles straight, without leveling off or dropping down. So far, that has been the hardest climb, even though it was not too steep and not too long.
A few miles from the top of the pass, dad and I stopped for a snack/brunch of apples and trailmix (m&ms, craisens, and peanuts). As we were packing up, another bike tourist appeared over a bump in the hill. At first we thought it might be Michael or Steve, but as he drew nearer, we realized we didn't recognize him. "Helyo!" he called out in a funny accent, that at first sounded like a Scottish brogue, and then made me wonder if English was a second language. (I later found out that he lived in Altoona, Pennsylvania, right in the middle of the Appalachians, which explained the accent... those of us from Oregon often think ours is the only correct dialect; I'm learning day by day that we're wrong!) The rider didn't introduce himself, but "William" was written on his bag in Sharpie. William told us that this was his fourth crossing of America, and he and his buddy planned to take only 50 days to do it (dad and I are taking 70!) He's also adding a bunch of miles, zigging down to Yellowstone, then up to Montreal before
ending in Bar Harbor.
When we started riding again, William (whose 63 years old) bolted ahead of us and hammered his way to the top, leaving us and his buddy (another Steve) behind. Just as we reached the top, a Red Subaru pulled up next to us, "Are any of you missing a sandal?" the driver asked. Looking back at my bike, I realized that I was.
"Ah...yes." I replied, "How far back is it?"
"Only a mile or two." She must have seen my face fall at the thought of going back, because she offered to go back and get it. I thanked her probably four times when she returned with the shoe. We met our third road angel in 4 days (Randy, Tom, and now the Woman in the Car).
After a glorious descent from Loup Loup (that more than made up for the climbing) dad and I stopped for lunch at a park in Okanogan; it was there that we met our first mosquitoes of the trip... I'm still scratching some of the bites I got there. We decided to push a little farther than we had planned that day, to make it into Tonasket... which would give us a ride of about 70 miles that day The last few miles into town started to feel really long, so I made up a rhyme, singing "A Tisket A Tasket, We're Going to Tonasket!" to keep my legs pumping the pedals. The landscape between Loup Loup and Tonasket really made me realize how lucky I am to live where I do: the land was parched, with few trees and less green; everything seemed a dusty brown. Occasionally a tattered wooden house or rundown trailer would appear out of the grass, only adding to the gloomy feeling of the place. It feels very important to see this stuff, this side of life, but it's also pretty grim. It's so much easier to stick my head in the sand... but that doesn't help anybody.
In Tonasket we went stayed on the front lawn of a restaurant (right by a highway), ate dinner at a pizza parlor, and showered at a laundromat. It was still probably one of my favorite nights so far on the trip. The redeeming quality? William and Steve (above) were staying the same place we were. William was a treasure trove of stories, about biking and otherwise. He told us about "my boy and me" fighting off a bear using pepper spray to save their food; about men in a town on an Indian Reservation "checking out my women... I mean wife."; and about his bike crash that dislocated his clavicle and "the doctors wanted to take out the whole bone, they it wasn' important, but I says I'd take my chances." (He can pop the clavicle out about an inch... See Megowan, you're not alone!) Finally we all went off to bed, about an hour later than we had planned.
JUNE 13 Tonasket to Republic
Trucks roaring by our "campsite" woke me up that morning about 5. Eventually, i climbed out of my tent, placked up my bags and ate breakfast. William and Steve went over to a shell station to pick up coffee. Returning, William triumphantly held up a pastry "ahh, this is the stuff! Bear Clawrs, this is whot keeps me going... hoh hoh hoh." As we ate, he told us about a Cross country tour he had gone on with his son, " 'e never thought Oi was that 'telligent! 'e comes back and says "it was me dad who got me cross the country. Hoh Hoh Hoh." dad elbowed me as William spoke and I smiled back. I have I feeling I'll learn the same thing William's son did. When dad and I left camp, William called out, "May the wind be at your backs!"
"You too!" we responded, "And keep the rubber side down!" The climb up Wasuconda Pass (4310ft) began just outside of Tonasket, and continued up for 25 miles. William and Steve caught up with us about half way up. Near the top, we passed a pair of people walking over the pass, "Y'see, Sef!" William called, "You don' go' it so bad.It probably take them 3 days to ge' ofver de pass... Hoh hoh hoh."
The steepest part of the pass came in the last few miles. The map said we only had two miles to go to the summit, but it turned into three. My butt and hamstrings were beginning to really hurt, so I was very unhappy about the discrepancy. After perhaps an undue amount of whining on my part we reached the summit. Dad and I munched on our bagels, then said goodbye to William and Steve (probably for good, since they were planning to go overShurman pass that day as well. They traveled 75-85 miles in a day and didn't take rest days.) The rest of our ride was down hill, and we arrived in Republic a little before 1 in the afternoon. As we descended, i noticed that trees were beginning to return to the previously parched landscape: apparently we had left the rain shadow of the Cascades and entered a more verdant area.
In Republic we stopped at the Library (where I posted my first entry while on the trip) the store (where we met a woman with 25 grandchildren, 39 great grandchildren, and 3 great great grandchildren) then went to the house we planned to spend the night at (another couple my dad had met online.)
Clifford and Judy (left) were some of the most hospitable and friendly people we met on the entire trip. Dad and I planned to set up camp and then go to explore Republic, which was having its Prospector's Days Festival. Just as we were about to remount our bikes and head into town, Clifford (who we had met earlier) walked out of the house and introduced us to his wife, Judy. They invited us to have "supper" with them, and we agreed on eating at 6. Then, dad and I pedaled into town (which feels totally different on unloaded bikes!)
In Republic, we ran into Jerry, Steve, and Michael again, who we hadn't seen since Winthrop. Then we sat on the grass in the park, enjoying the sights and sounds of Prospector's Days around us. We also enjoyed the smells... perhaps a little too much: dad got an Italian Sausage sandwich for us to split, our appetizer. It didn't hurt our appetites any... when we returned to Judy and Clifford's house we helped make dinner, then scarfed it down. Judy had made a delicious spaghetti sauce, with mushrooms, sundried tomatoes, and more Italian sausage, as well as a salad with fresh vegetables and dried fruit. We talked for a while, but my energy levels were steadily dropping, so soon we were saying goodnight and heading to bed.
We left Winthrop a bit later than we had planned, taking time to chat with Tom over breakfast (He made us toast and scrambled eggs.... altogether, he was an amazingly generous host. I hope we meet more people like him. Thank You Tom!!) The first ten miles, from Winthrop to Twisp, went by quickly, riding downhill with a light tailwind. After Twisp, we began to climb again. The climb to Loup Loup Pass was fairly gradual... 3-6% grade... but it was continuous, climbing for 8 miles straight, without leveling off or dropping down. So far, that has been the hardest climb, even though it was not too steep and not too long.
A few miles from the top of the pass, dad and I stopped for a snack/brunch of apples and trailmix (m&ms, craisens, and peanuts). As we were packing up, another bike tourist appeared over a bump in the hill. At first we thought it might be Michael or Steve, but as he drew nearer, we realized we didn't recognize him. "Helyo!" he called out in a funny accent, that at first sounded like a Scottish brogue, and then made me wonder if English was a second language. (I later found out that he lived in Altoona, Pennsylvania, right in the middle of the Appalachians, which explained the accent... those of us from Oregon often think ours is the only correct dialect; I'm learning day by day that we're wrong!) The rider didn't introduce himself, but "William" was written on his bag in Sharpie. William told us that this was his fourth crossing of America, and he and his buddy planned to take only 50 days to do it (dad and I are taking 70!) He's also adding a bunch of miles, zigging down to Yellowstone, then up to Montreal before
ending in Bar Harbor.When we started riding again, William (whose 63 years old) bolted ahead of us and hammered his way to the top, leaving us and his buddy (another Steve) behind. Just as we reached the top, a Red Subaru pulled up next to us, "Are any of you missing a sandal?" the driver asked. Looking back at my bike, I realized that I was.
"Ah...yes." I replied, "How far back is it?"
"Only a mile or two." She must have seen my face fall at the thought of going back, because she offered to go back and get it. I thanked her probably four times when she returned with the shoe. We met our third road angel in 4 days (Randy, Tom, and now the Woman in the Car).
After a glorious descent from Loup Loup (that more than made up for the climbing) dad and I stopped for lunch at a park in Okanogan; it was there that we met our first mosquitoes of the trip... I'm still scratching some of the bites I got there. We decided to push a little farther than we had planned that day, to make it into Tonasket... which would give us a ride of about 70 miles that day The last few miles into town started to feel really long, so I made up a rhyme, singing "A Tisket A Tasket, We're Going to Tonasket!" to keep my legs pumping the pedals. The landscape between Loup Loup and Tonasket really made me realize how lucky I am to live where I do: the land was parched, with few trees and less green; everything seemed a dusty brown. Occasionally a tattered wooden house or rundown trailer would appear out of the grass, only adding to the gloomy feeling of the place. It feels very important to see this stuff, this side of life, but it's also pretty grim. It's so much easier to stick my head in the sand... but that doesn't help anybody.
In Tonasket we went stayed on the front lawn of a restaurant (right by a highway), ate dinner at a pizza parlor, and showered at a laundromat. It was still probably one of my favorite nights so far on the trip. The redeeming quality? William and Steve (above) were staying the same place we were. William was a treasure trove of stories, about biking and otherwise. He told us about "my boy and me" fighting off a bear using pepper spray to save their food; about men in a town on an Indian Reservation "checking out my women... I mean wife."; and about his bike crash that dislocated his clavicle and "the doctors wanted to take out the whole bone, they it wasn' important, but I says I'd take my chances." (He can pop the clavicle out about an inch... See Megowan, you're not alone!) Finally we all went off to bed, about an hour later than we had planned.
JUNE 13 Tonasket to Republic
Trucks roaring by our "campsite" woke me up that morning about 5. Eventually, i climbed out of my tent, placked up my bags and ate breakfast. William and Steve went over to a shell station to pick up coffee. Returning, William triumphantly held up a pastry "ahh, this is the stuff! Bear Clawrs, this is whot keeps me going... hoh hoh hoh." As we ate, he told us about a Cross country tour he had gone on with his son, " 'e never thought Oi was that 'telligent! 'e comes back and says "it was me dad who got me cross the country. Hoh Hoh Hoh." dad elbowed me as William spoke and I smiled back. I have I feeling I'll learn the same thing William's son did. When dad and I left camp, William called out, "May the wind be at your backs!"
"You too!" we responded, "And keep the rubber side down!" The climb up Wasuconda Pass (4310ft) began just outside of Tonasket, and continued up for 25 miles. William and Steve caught up with us about half way up. Near the top, we passed a pair of people walking over the pass, "Y'see, Sef!" William called, "You don' go' it so bad.It probably take them 3 days to ge' ofver de pass... Hoh hoh hoh."
The steepest part of the pass came in the last few miles. The map said we only had two miles to go to the summit, but it turned into three. My butt and hamstrings were beginning to really hurt, so I was very unhappy about the discrepancy. After perhaps an undue amount of whining on my part we reached the summit. Dad and I munched on our bagels, then said goodbye to William and Steve (probably for good, since they were planning to go overShurman pass that day as well. They traveled 75-85 miles in a day and didn't take rest days.) The rest of our ride was down hill, and we arrived in Republic a little before 1 in the afternoon. As we descended, i noticed that trees were beginning to return to the previously parched landscape: apparently we had left the rain shadow of the Cascades and entered a more verdant area.
In Republic we stopped at the Library (where I posted my first entry while on the trip) the store (where we met a woman with 25 grandchildren, 39 great grandchildren, and 3 great great grandchildren) then went to the house we planned to spend the night at (another couple my dad had met online.)
Clifford and Judy (left) were some of the most hospitable and friendly people we met on the entire trip. Dad and I planned to set up camp and then go to explore Republic, which was having its Prospector's Days Festival. Just as we were about to remount our bikes and head into town, Clifford (who we had met earlier) walked out of the house and introduced us to his wife, Judy. They invited us to have "supper" with them, and we agreed on eating at 6. Then, dad and I pedaled into town (which feels totally different on unloaded bikes!)In Republic, we ran into Jerry, Steve, and Michael again, who we hadn't seen since Winthrop. Then we sat on the grass in the park, enjoying the sights and sounds of Prospector's Days around us. We also enjoyed the smells... perhaps a little too much: dad got an Italian Sausage sandwich for us to split, our appetizer. It didn't hurt our appetites any... when we returned to Judy and Clifford's house we helped make dinner, then scarfed it down. Judy had made a delicious spaghetti sauce, with mushrooms, sundried tomatoes, and more Italian sausage, as well as a salad with fresh vegetables and dried fruit. We talked for a while, but my energy levels were steadily dropping, so soon we were saying goodnight and heading to bed.
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