Oh my... so much has happened. Each day feels like a whole week! I don't know how in depth to go on this (I could probably write a whole novel) so I'll try to give some of the juicer details and add some pictures for flavor (though I'm not sure I can get them onto this computer... I'm in the Republic Library, and I only have half-an-hour to write, so sorry if I sound a bit rushed.)
JUNE 9 Anacortes to Concrete
Dad and I started riding at about 9 am, after saying goodbye to mom. We stopped three times in the first 15 minutes to put on rain gear. That really set the mood for the day. The sky stayed cloudy for most of the day, the rain coming in spurts. Still, the scenery was amazing, and dad and I soon developed a rhythm to our riding. Just as we finished cycling along the Padilla Bay Shore Trail (a beautiful ride along a hard-packed gravel path with mud flats to the left and farmland to the right) three bikers (shown below left to right Steve, Jerry, Dad, Me, Michael) we met in Anacortes who are also planning to cross the country caught up with us (actually, my dad had met Michael online a few months ago, and the two of them have been talking about the trip ever since).
The rain picked up again a few miles farther along, so dad and I decided to stop for lunch. We rolled up to a house that had a shed with a promising looking overhang, and knocked on the door. When nobody had answered after a couple of minutes, we decided to go ahead and eat under the overhang anyway. Before long, I was shivering away in the cold weather, so we decided to keep moving to warm back up.
We spent the second half of the day riding through the Skagit River Valley, probably one of the most amazing places I've been, even in the rain. Especially in the rain! The Sakgit river flowed by to the left of the road, and to the right fields stretched away to green mountains with mist floating off of them. Eventually, after 54 miles of cold, wet riding, we rolled into Concrete Washington where we planned to stay for the night.
In concrete, we set up camp in a small RV park, fighting against the wind just to set up camp. Dad and I wanted to go into town to pick up food for dinner, but the storm just seemed to be getting worse, so we decided to eat in the cafe at the RV park, with Steve, Michael, and Jerry. I suppose I ought to introduce Steve, Michael, and Jerry, beyond just "other riders". Steve is 54, retired,
and from St. Louis. He's sort of the leader of their group. Michael is 42 and from Bar Harbor, and not yet retired, so he has to hurry home. He has a very dry sense of humor. Jerry is 60 and retired; he's from Michigan. He also rides a recumbent, which is easier on his butt and knees, but makes climbing hills a difficult task.
After dinner, we called mom, then rode into the store to pick up groceries for breakfast the next morning and dinner the next night. Big purple clouds were building as we pulled into the parking lot at the Red Apple. As we dismounted, two women walked out and glanced at our bikes, "My friends up in Sedro Wooley say that storm just blew by, dropping big hailstones!" said one.
"I've considered building up my back room so bicyclists passing through can stay there during a storm." The other said.
"There's a word for people like that," my dad replied, "Road Angels."
"Oooh, I like that!" she said, "I've spent the last 10 years pissing off people on the road as a flagger. It'd be nice to be an Angel."
The clouds burst just as we got into the store, pelting down giant rain drops. dad and I took our time picking out our groceries, hoping that the storm would pass, but it didn't. We were just preparing to ride out through the storm when a short man with tan skin, a crease down the side of his face, and long dark hair walked up and offered us a ride back to our campsite.
We couldn't fit two bikes into his PT Cruiser, so he ferried us back, taking me first and then dad. Just as we neared the campsite, he told me his name was Randy. I introduced myself and thanked him, and then we were hustling the bike and gear out of his car and over to the tent. Just before he drove away, Randy looked back at me, "You know, Seth, getting this ride from me is cheating!" he grinned, then left. It was day one, and we had already met our first Road Angel. The rain falling on my tent that night was almost loud enough to keep me awake. Almost.
JUNE 10 Concrete to Colonial Creek Campground
We woke up around 7 the next morning, thankful that it wasn't raining. It took us 2 hours to break camp that morning (a process we'll have to streamline!) and then we were back riding through the Skagit River Valley. Around 11, the sun came out for us for the first time on the trip, and stayed with us for the rest of the day. We stopped for lunch in a quarry/rock yard and even considered putting on sunscreen. That afternoon we passed through Newhalem, and after that the road turned skyward. The last 10 miles of our day were spent climbing through the beginning of the North Cascades (we got to pass through 2 tunnels along the way!!) until we descended into our campground near Diablo Lake (probably one of the prettiest we'll see for the whole trip, even though the water was out, meaning pit toilets and no showers).
That evening we ate dinner (a stir fry of rice and vegetables) sitting around Steve, Michael, and Jerry's campfire (for an "entry fee" of extra firewood). After dinner, Jerry began scavenging through his bags, searching for items to leave behind, trying to drop weight for the brutal climb up to Washington pass the next day. The things he pulled out were astonishing: a battery powered shaver (that Michael ended up saving) a huge pair of scissors, a bolt driver.... That night I went to bed around 8:45, exhausted, and still hungry, even after eating more than half a pot of rice and vegetables!
I'm pretty much out of time now, so I'll write about the climb to Washington Pass later.
Cheers!
Seth
JUNE 9 Anacortes to Concrete
Dad and I started riding at about 9 am, after saying goodbye to mom. We stopped three times in the first 15 minutes to put on rain gear. That really set the mood for the day. The sky stayed cloudy for most of the day, the rain coming in spurts. Still, the scenery was amazing, and dad and I soon developed a rhythm to our riding. Just as we finished cycling along the Padilla Bay Shore Trail (a beautiful ride along a hard-packed gravel path with mud flats to the left and farmland to the right) three bikers (shown below left to right Steve, Jerry, Dad, Me, Michael) we met in Anacortes who are also planning to cross the country caught up with us (actually, my dad had met Michael online a few months ago, and the two of them have been talking about the trip ever since).
The rain picked up again a few miles farther along, so dad and I decided to stop for lunch. We rolled up to a house that had a shed with a promising looking overhang, and knocked on the door. When nobody had answered after a couple of minutes, we decided to go ahead and eat under the overhang anyway. Before long, I was shivering away in the cold weather, so we decided to keep moving to warm back up.
We spent the second half of the day riding through the Skagit River Valley, probably one of the most amazing places I've been, even in the rain. Especially in the rain! The Sakgit river flowed by to the left of the road, and to the right fields stretched away to green mountains with mist floating off of them. Eventually, after 54 miles of cold, wet riding, we rolled into Concrete Washington where we planned to stay for the night.
In concrete, we set up camp in a small RV park, fighting against the wind just to set up camp. Dad and I wanted to go into town to pick up food for dinner, but the storm just seemed to be getting worse, so we decided to eat in the cafe at the RV park, with Steve, Michael, and Jerry. I suppose I ought to introduce Steve, Michael, and Jerry, beyond just "other riders". Steve is 54, retired,
and from St. Louis. He's sort of the leader of their group. Michael is 42 and from Bar Harbor, and not yet retired, so he has to hurry home. He has a very dry sense of humor. Jerry is 60 and retired; he's from Michigan. He also rides a recumbent, which is easier on his butt and knees, but makes climbing hills a difficult task.After dinner, we called mom, then rode into the store to pick up groceries for breakfast the next morning and dinner the next night. Big purple clouds were building as we pulled into the parking lot at the Red Apple. As we dismounted, two women walked out and glanced at our bikes, "My friends up in Sedro Wooley say that storm just blew by, dropping big hailstones!" said one.
"I've considered building up my back room so bicyclists passing through can stay there during a storm." The other said.
"There's a word for people like that," my dad replied, "Road Angels."
"Oooh, I like that!" she said, "I've spent the last 10 years pissing off people on the road as a flagger. It'd be nice to be an Angel."
The clouds burst just as we got into the store, pelting down giant rain drops. dad and I took our time picking out our groceries, hoping that the storm would pass, but it didn't. We were just preparing to ride out through the storm when a short man with tan skin, a crease down the side of his face, and long dark hair walked up and offered us a ride back to our campsite.
We couldn't fit two bikes into his PT Cruiser, so he ferried us back, taking me first and then dad. Just as we neared the campsite, he told me his name was Randy. I introduced myself and thanked him, and then we were hustling the bike and gear out of his car and over to the tent. Just before he drove away, Randy looked back at me, "You know, Seth, getting this ride from me is cheating!" he grinned, then left. It was day one, and we had already met our first Road Angel. The rain falling on my tent that night was almost loud enough to keep me awake. Almost.
JUNE 10 Concrete to Colonial Creek Campground
We woke up around 7 the next morning, thankful that it wasn't raining. It took us 2 hours to break camp that morning (a process we'll have to streamline!) and then we were back riding through the Skagit River Valley. Around 11, the sun came out for us for the first time on the trip, and stayed with us for the rest of the day. We stopped for lunch in a quarry/rock yard and even considered putting on sunscreen. That afternoon we passed through Newhalem, and after that the road turned skyward. The last 10 miles of our day were spent climbing through the beginning of the North Cascades (we got to pass through 2 tunnels along the way!!) until we descended into our campground near Diablo Lake (probably one of the prettiest we'll see for the whole trip, even though the water was out, meaning pit toilets and no showers).
That evening we ate dinner (a stir fry of rice and vegetables) sitting around Steve, Michael, and Jerry's campfire (for an "entry fee" of extra firewood). After dinner, Jerry began scavenging through his bags, searching for items to leave behind, trying to drop weight for the brutal climb up to Washington pass the next day. The things he pulled out were astonishing: a battery powered shaver (that Michael ended up saving) a huge pair of scissors, a bolt driver.... That night I went to bed around 8:45, exhausted, and still hungry, even after eating more than half a pot of rice and vegetables!
I'm pretty much out of time now, so I'll write about the climb to Washington Pass later.
Cheers!
Seth
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