Thompson Falls - Arlee - Missoula, MT

Yesterday was a fairly difficult ride.  I got from Thompson Falls to Arlee, which is 25 miles outside of Missoula.  It was 75 miles according to Google Maps.  I would have happily stopped earlier but it's just not the way it worked out.  The first half of the day was very pretty, but I left the mountain canyons and got out into some less-forested hilly prairie where it was hot with a headwind. I'm not sure how hot it was but I wouldn't have wanted it any hotter than that. I had sticky salt caking my face and hands. While riding, I rehydrate with water and also this briny electrolyte solution I mix in a water bottle. The salty swill must work OK because I don't feel bad now. I went through about 5 liters (1.3 gallons) of water for the ride.

Early in the ride I passed through a little town called Plains.  I rode past a roadside stand selling burgers, and to my surprise the proprietor started yelling at me excitedly.  I couldn't make out what he was saying so I pulled over.  He ran up and told me that he had heard all about me from some people who had eaten at his stand earlier in the day.  He said he had been waiting for the guy on the crazy contraption to go by.  It really made his day.

In the second half of the day, I rode into a huge cloud of smoke from wildfires in the vicinity.  It blotted out the entire sky and the sun turned red.  It remained like this the rest of the day.  My eyes burned and I put in some eye drops.  The eye drops were hot but it felt good anyway.  I kept the bottle close at hand and periodically sprayed my eyeballs.  My face was so caked with salt and sunblock and grime that I didn't bother to wipe the excess.

Google Maps showed a couple of camping/hotel options but nobody answered any of the numbers I dialed. I was getting psyched up to sleep in the weeds somewhere when a lady called from the campground. She gave me directions so I ate a banana in three bites and ate some melted cookies and pedaled the remaining 10 miles. It was lucky.  Having a shower was delightful.  The sticky salt is all over everything.  My hands stick to the handlebar grips and stick to my water bottles. 

This morning I rode the rest of the way into Missoula.  I stopped at the headquarters of the American Cycling Association to see what was there.  They are a nonprofit organization that makes maps for long-distance cyclists and does some advocacy.  The maps are kind of expensive and I didn't get any of their materials for this trip because I think that Google Maps is just as effective.  In the West there aren't a ton of road choices anyway.  Upon walking into their office, I was given the royal treatment.  A lady gave me a long tour of their facility.  It was surprisingly expansive -- either they do a lot of work or they are good at acting busy.  Then I had a few pictures taken, a Polaroid to go on their wall and another picture for this fellow's portfolio.  He seemed to think that my profile might make a good magazine article.  They weighed my bike, 95 pounds (most modern road bikes are in the low 20's).  Feeling sheepish from all the kindness and attention and free soda, I bought one of their maps.  It is supposed to get me from here to Yellowstone.  We'll see how it impacts my strategy over the next few days.

The rest of the afternoon was spent cruising around downtown Missoula, which has a great network of bike lanes and little car traffic.  It is so nice that I just looped around for fun.  It is a college/hippie town so I was happy to be merely one more oddball.  It seems like a very nice place.  It's sort of a mini-Boulder, but less obnoxious.  It has the standard progressive college town things like tapas and wine bars and sustainable espresso.  It has itinerant hippies with their dogs, one of whom tried to sell me an electric razor at a street corner ("Gosh, I'd really love it, but you see I'm already carrying plenty of stuff").  There are a lot of beautiful and healthy-looking people and lots and lots of bicycles.  It's an alluring place, and I am a little sad that I don't live here.

It's hard to leave such a town and go camp on the outskirts, so I got a Hotwire hotel room.  I took a long shower, used all the products, charged all of my electronics, and washed all my wadded and mildewed clothes in the sink.

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The beginning of the day outside Thompson Falls.  This is actually a long downhill (hard to tell the perspective).

Found this on the side of the road.  My guess is that they threw it out during "Chicken Jamboree".

It started getting hot.

Smoke cloud

Red sun through the smoke

Another odd road find.  I didn't keep this one, but I did keep a carabiner, a bungy, and a nice strap.

My photo is the latest addition to their wall

Downtown Missoula

Can you really just make your own car and drive around?

Hope, ID - Thompson Falls, MT

Last night the deer returned and ate my Fritos.  I heard a soft clop-clop outside my hammock, and then a -crunch crunch- as he helped himself.  I got out and shooed him off twice, then finally hiked my gear up and put it in the park restroom.

Usually in the morning I tune into Elizabeth Cook's show "Apron Strings" (pronounced "Aypron Strangs" in Appalachian), which is on Sirius 60 Outlaw Country.  She makes me laugh and plays good music.  Tune it in if you get a chance; it's on at 10am-2pm ET.

This part of Montana is incredibly beautiful.  The Clark Fork is a big, wide river.  It's in a big, wide valley with big trees and big views.  I had a gentle tailwind on the ride (as I have for the entire trip).  Later in the day the pines baked in the sun, and gave off their scent.  There's not much going on, just a few ranches and hunting/fishing-oriented businesses.

I stopped at a rural post office and a guy asked me if I had a Cuban flag.  I laughed.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful.  I was ready to be done, as I had flakes of white salt on my face and was starting to get dehydrated.  I stopped at the Conoco for dinner (mmm) since the supermarket was too far to ride.



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This was going to be a big cinematic production but then the car showed up and I had to pay attention to the road.

Coming into Thompson Falls, where I'm spending the night

At the end of a trail leading from my campsite

Five-star accomodation

Newport, WA - Hope, ID

Today was a mixture of highs and lows.  On the positive side, I wound up at an extremely pleasant campground.  The woman who runs this RV park is from Boulder and she asked me if I knew some Vail ski patrollers that she knew.  The park is right on the lake and I watched the sunset from a bench near the beach.  Lake Pend Oreille is a big lake, maybe as big as Tahoe.  It's the remnant of a huge glacier, I think.  Really nice.  There are lots of vacation cottages and marinas and such.

This campground is so nice.  People walked by and were amazed by my hammock, and the neighbor just sent his kids over to see if I wanted some steaks.  He took pity on me since he watched a deer come over and eat the rest of my bread while I was away.  I saw the same deer eating from his table earlier.

The morning started a little rough.  As I left the Newport Kampground (good riddance -- hope I didn't get ringworm from their shower), I took a back road to avoid Hwy 2 traffic that Luigi warned about.  The back road started out OK but it deteriorated into a hilly, unpaved and unsigned maze.  There was lots of trash on the roadside -- diapers, bottles, cans, bags of who knows what.  Hand-lettered "Keep Out" signs were in abundance.  I thought I heard the strains of Dueling Banjos.  At one point I was chased by two slavering dogs.  I was able to sprint and shout and use my Doggy Dazer and finally they turned back.  But the adrenaline propelled me for the next few miles.

Not too enamored of Idaho so far, I finally made my way to Sandpoint.  It's a nice lakeside tourist town at the foot of the Schweitzer ski area.  I got my chain cleaned at a bike shop and also got an improved therma-rest and blanket.  More crap to carry but it's better than waking up at 4:30am shivering.  I asked directions from a woman who, after hearing my story, offered to put me up in her family's cabin.  It was 15 miles north of town and I was heading east.  Perhaps I should have taken her up on it; it seems impolite to turn down such generosity.  But I wanted to pedal on, and I actually like the routine of setting up camp and fixing the little equipment issues and writing my blog.  It's amazing that people would do that for a stranger, though.

More people quizzed me on my bike.  The answer:  It's a Rans Stratus long-wheelbase recumbent.  It's great for touring because it's really comfortable and easy on my back.  At the end of a long day you don't feel like you've been beaten up.  The long wheelbase and steel frame really absorb the bumps.  It's burly enough to carry all the gear.  It's fast on the flats and slow on the climbs.  My uncle Mark gave it to me for my first bike tour, and I am sold on recumbents now.  I wouldn't use it in city traffic because it has the turning radius of a bus and you have to think ahead about what you're going to do.  But for pedaling hours on end, the comfort is unmatched.

I left Sandpoint after a couple of hours and had a very pretty evening cruise to this place.  So the day turned out OK after all.  I passed a sign that said 160 miles to Missoula, so I should probably be there in two or three days.



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Goodbye Washington

Pend Oreille River

Sunset ride around the lake

The proprietor has yellow prune trees.   I ate 15 or so.  They were amazing.

The camp-robbing deer

Good living by the lake

Yes, I posed myself for this.

Colville, WA to Newport, WA

Today was a fine day.  After a good night of sleep I left Colville and headed south.  I decided to take a shortcut over a little-used pass because I heard there was a lot of traffic on Hwy 20 which would have been my regular route.  It turned out to be a good decision, much to my relief.  Shortcuts often do not turn out well and this one had bad reviews over at crazyguyonabike.com (where I borrow a lot of trip information).  It was reputed to be very steep and brutal.  But I took it slow and it was fine.  It was one of the prettiest passes I've seen yet.  It wound through a healthy forest with very few cars and very little noise, except for my occasional groans of discomfort as I pushed up the hill.  I was really happy to have done it, and was rewarded by the customary downhill at the end.  During the downhill I took a large dragonfly to my left eye at about 40mph.  I'm glad I had full-coverage sunglasses on, and that the lenses are plastic.

At the bottom of the pass I met Luigi, who was coming from Washington, DC.  He was going as light as possible and said he's been on the road 30 days.  I remarked that 30 days was very short.  He explained that he averages 120 miles a day, which is insane.  He alluded to some rough storms in North Dakota.  He also said he was fighting a headwind the whole trip, which is the way it goes when you ride east to west.  Headwinds can totally destroy your morale, so I felt for him.  His blog is at luigilaraia.blogspot.com if you'd like to read his story.  He is a recently-diagnosed leukemia patient raising money for leukemia research.  He is not in remission.  He was an animal, for sure.  

The rest of the ride was a mostly easy spin along the Pend Oreille River into Newport.  There I stopped at Safeway and got some dinner items.  As I sat outside enjoying a well-deserved cold Coca-Cola, I drew a crowd of people asking about my bike and what I was doing.  It's a real crowd-pleaser.   

After loading up on chow, I pulled into the "Old American Kampground" in the middle of town.  I took a 20-minute shower, not because I needed to but because I had to do all of my laundry while showering.  The Kampground is full of RVers.  The RV set seem like nice people, but I think they ought to have some sort of certification before operating something the size of a locomotive on the highway.  

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I went by 49 Degrees North ski area on the pass.  I thought about going up to look closer but the access road was steep, and I didn't need any "extra credit" at that point.

Who doesn't like this sign?

These are the ones you have to watch out for.  This was taken seconds after she pulled in, jumped the curb, and backed down off of it.

Kamping at the Kampground.  I half-expect to see Yogi Bear.

Republic, WA to Colville, WA

Today was pretty tough.  I awoke freezing at about 4am.  It turned autumn all of a sudden.  I crawled out and put on all my clothes, but still couldn't get warm.  Finally around 5am I got up, walked around, and hung out in the park bathroom because it was warm.  Later I went into the laundry room because it seemed like it might be questionable to stand in the bathroom for no reason all morning.  Finally the sun came up and I was warm enough to head out.  Keith and Shannon, my hosts at the Winchester RV park, gave me a fleece and some big socks for my trip.

The pass is the highest year-round maintained pass in Washington at 5575 feet.  I started climbing and felt OK for awhile, but just got hot and clammy as the ride went on.  My shell was dripping on the inside and I got nauseous.  It was very cold at the top and I put on all the clothes that I could.

Got into Colville, checked into a motel because it's next to the fairgrounds and I wanted to go to the fair.  I walked over and browsed through the exhibits, which included an unbelievable number of cute animals.  Most of the animals were handled by the kids who came from all over the area.  There were horses, cattle, donkeys, goats, rabbits, chickens, geese, turkeys, ducks, guinea pigs, iguanas, tropical fish, pigs, cats, and dogs.  In the dog show area, an 8-yr-old boy with an official badge asked me very professionally if I was enjoying the fair and if I had any questions.  I asked him if he had any animals in the fair.  He said he had a dog, a rabbit, and a pig.  He wanted to show me his dog, which was obviously his favorite.  We sat and pet his dog for awhile until I felt a little awkward and left to get some candy.  Sorry kid.

There were lots of older kids there too, dressed up for Friday night.  Hats were at just the right angle, jeans were squeezed into, text messages were flowing.  I left after it got dark and returned to my digs to plot tomorrow's leg.



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The start of Sherman Pass

 Coming down, down, down to the Columbia River

Tried out the weigh station, but couldn't get anything to happen

Pedaled with coffee for about 3 miles.  Thanks, Jackie!

This awesome crane was moving stacks of trees around.

This one eats well.

What's it's name?  "Butterfly!"

Hi, my name is  Jane  Samantha.

Tonasket, WA to Republic, WA

You couldn't ask for a better day than today.  I continued on Hwy 20 east from Tonasket, up out of the barren valley into the higher prairie/woodsy/hilly area.  Occasionally I saw cattle, horses, llamas, and goats.  I would really like a pet goat.

 Hwy 20 is wide and little traveled.  Most of the day was spent climbing, and my legs feel like they've been hit with shock paddles.  But other than that, no issues physically.  The bike is running well but there is an odd click in the pedal stroke that transfers to my feet.  It's the sort of thing that you get to think about for hours on end as you pedal.  I suppose I could take the cranks off and put them back on, but it hasn't come to that.

There are a lot of motorcycle tourists.  I like them because they are generally courteous drivers.  Perhaps they know what it feels like to be vulnerable.  Many wave or give me the thumbs up.  Yesterday a guy slowed down and shouted some words of encouragement, although I couldn't hear him over his Harley pipes.  I get a kick out of giving the Harley guys their special down-low arm wave.  You know, the one that only bikers use and looks cool and lackadaisical.  I do it and they return it and then I chuckle about it for awhile.  Here I am in my neon flashing contraption and yet I am accepted into the brotherhood of these folks who dress like Mad Max.

Oh, I also got to try my ultrasonic dog zapper for real.  This farm dog was making a run for me and I gave him a blast at about 20 feet.  He put on the brakes and ran the other way!  Fantastic.  I hope it works on meth-heads' pitbulls too.

A few days ago I ordered a spare tire for the front wheel.  Not only is it comforting to have a spare, but the lighter weight Kojak tire is noticeably faster than the heavy duty Marathon Plus which could be standard equipment on a John Deere tractor.  So I'll keep the Marathons as spares.  I need a Presta/Schrader adapter to properly check my tire pressure but haven't passed any bike shops recently.

To get the spare tire, I estimated where I would be in the future and had it shipped to the post office general delivery.  "There" happened to be Wauconda, WA, which is a ghost town in the middle of nowhere that still has a store/post office.  I pulled in on my bicycle in the afternoon hoping the package had arrived.  It had not, and the lady seemed mistrustful of my intentions.  I bought a root beer and sat down to wait for the UPS truck.  Fortuitously, the brown truck showed up 35 minutes later, and the UPS guy gave me my tire.  He had all sorts of questions and route advice.  He said I could avoid the upcoming grueling Sherman Pass climb by detouring 20 miles north to a lesser pass.  I smiled and thanked him, but going 20 miles north means coming back 20 miles south, and that's a good part of the day, so I'm going to gut it out.  A lot of people offer advice, good and bad.

Later in the afternoon, after a thrilling blast down the east side of Wauconda Pass, I pulled into Republic.  It seems like a quintessential small American town with a wide main street and some sporting-oriented shops.  I browsed the supermarket awhile, which was somehow soothing after staring at the road so long.  I bought some Q-tips.  I also bought some Deep Woods Off, which should keep me from getting West Nile.  I got a loaf of bread, some salami, and some cherries from Chelan. What I don't eat tonight gets stuffed in my bag for tomorrow.

After hanging around town for awhile, I pedaled over to the RV park at sunset.  It's really, really nice.  The owners asked me all sorts of questions and said they get bike tourists from all over the world.  They set me up in a well-manicured campsite with a power outlet and wifi.  I took a nice shower and quickly washed my clothes in the sink before anyone walked in.  One interesting thing is that there were no trees spaced close enough that I could hang my hammock.  So I managed to hang it from the limbs of one big tree.  It's five or six feet off the ground and I hope nothing breaks.

Edit -- just after I completed typing this, a flashlight shone on my hammock and there was a voice that said "Sheriff's Department! Identify yourself!" I said, "umm, hello?" Then I unzipped the bottom and looked out, and there was some fellow sitting under my hammock. Apparently the cops were looking for him and he took refuge directly underneath my ass. The whole RV park crowd came out to join the show.  One of the cops said "you don't know that guy?" I said no, I don't. The cop said "that's fuckin' weird, man."

To be fair, I think the owners were very upset about it.  And I don't think the gentleman knew that I was hanging over his head.

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Let the sweating begin

Pastoral Eastern Washington

 Miles from anywhere, I received a bike tire from UPS

Blasting down into Republic

Downtown Republic

The only hammock solution.  A long drop if something goes wrong.  

Camp all fixed up.

Winthrop, WA to Tonasket, WA

"Did you make that bike?"
No.  It's made by a company in Kansas.

"How does it climb?"
Slowly.

"Is it comfortable?"
Yes, very.

"Don't you ever worry about anyone robbing you?"
No.

"Why are you doing this?"
No single reason.  It's relaxing, good exercise, and I get to see the American West.  It's a challenge.


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Another day, another pass.  Today was Loup Loup Pass, which started down in the barren valley but went up into the forest.  It was a long climb but not as tough as Washington Pass in North Cascades.  Enough to keep you honest, though.  It's a nice road with little traffic.  The descent was excellent, except for a sucker climb at the end.  The second half of the day was spent on a rather busy road from Omak to Tonasket.  The shoulder was very wide, which made it more pleasant.  It was hot (low 90s) but not terrible.  Staying well-hydrated is the key.  Pushing this bike up a hill requires some energy.

I mailed the GPS to Sascha (I hope that's OK, Mark).  I feel much freer now.  It's like switching to boxers.  Watching the speed and distance just reminds me of how slow I'm going, and my next turn is in Idaho.

Tomorrow there is a ghost town with a post office.  I am stopping there to receive a spare tire I ordered.

Coming down Loup Loup Pass