7/13/2002 Portland to Potlatch State Park

This year's tour started with a train ride to Olympia Washington. Traveling with a tandem bike on Amtrak is a bit difficult. No one seems to know what to do with it. Some wanted it boxed, some wanted it tore down, and some wanted it hung from the bike hooks. We ended up having the grumbling baggage handler secure it to the side of the baggage car after lecturing us to box it next time. Bec enjoyed the train ride since she feels that it is much like being on the tandem, sitting there watching the world go by. Louie slept most of the way.

When we exited the train in Olympia the platform was filled with Boy Scouts. We got there just in time for a lecture from the scoutmaster about how to behave on vacation and that there would be no unscoutlike behavior tolerated at any time on this trip. We were treated to the scout motto and purpose. Fortified with the rules of vacationing, we took off for our first destination, Potlatch State Park.

Highway 101 out of Olympia has bikes prohibited until leaving the metro area. We meandered about on side roads until finding an entrance ramp that allowed bikes. Highway 101 had very heavy traffic. We got buzzed once by someone who did not even want us on the 8-foot shoulder. He almost caused an accident when he swerved back out into traffic after laying on his horn and coming onto the shoulder to teach us a lesson. The only lesson we could see was that it is dangerous for the guy to swerve onto the shoulder and back out because the car behind him almost hit him as he swerved back. We were very proud of ourselves because we did not exhibit any unscoutlike behaviors during this ordeal.

We stopped at a park and ride, looking for the ladies room. We thought it should be called a smash-and-dash instead of a park and ride due to all the glass on the ground. We were so interested in the glass that we decided to take some with us and promptly had a flat as we left.

Potlatch State Park has a bike and hike camp area with only two tent sites. Arriving just in time to claim the second tent site, we stayed next to a couple who took their cat camping. It was leashed so it would not run away. That evening, it rained intermittently, but not enough to get us very wet.

7/14/2002 Potlatch to Port Townsend

Sleeping in until 9:00 AM made us feel much more energetic. It had been a busy few days before vacation, getting everything ready.

Most of the day was spent riding with green fields on one side and Ocean on the other. The air remained cool. A plane lands on a lake and then takes off.

The most difficulty we had today on the road is dodging roofing nails. We don't think they were put there intentionally. Louie had a good time practicing his handling skills to avoid them. A huge group of motorcycle people on Harleys pass us, beeping and waving.

Lunchtime is at a park on a beach that is filled with shells from Oysters. People are gathering up unopened ones and placing them in buckets. Bec spends some time opening a few looking for pearls but to no avail. A pack of four friendly wienie dogs join us for lunch. People love to travel with their pets.

Every so often during the day, Bec hops off and piles some found firewood on the BOB. Louie wants to collect everything he sees but Bec insists that it be kept to a reasonable weight since it had to be hauled up the hill to camp. At Fort Worden the same ranger is there that had been there two years ago. We remember him because we got in a little trouble for some unscoutlike behavior back then. Thank goodness he does not remember us. Much to our surprise, we found our business card is still on the bulletin board in the laundry room!

7/15/2002 Port Townsend to Hamilton State Park

Our early start did not pan out since we had to wait for the ferry to cross over to Highway 20. As we wait, many people are interested in our bike and what we are doing. Some had been seeing us along the way and had been wondering what we were up to. We talked to some people who owned a Tioga tigar pop top motor-home. They really like it because it gets great gas mileage. The sun glistens off the water in the bay. Small fish swim next to the dock.

There is lots of traffic again today, but most folks are polite, giving us enough room. However, nice quiet country roads would be nice. We get lost once, but it only turned into a scenic side trip. All morning long we ride the rollers over green and pine covered hills. At one point we drop down into a bay filled with sailboats. The brightly colored sails spike up out of the water contrasting against the snow covered mountains in the distance. We stop to watch an eagle watch us for a while. The rollers turn to green farmland in the afternoon, but the traffic does not lessen.

Bec has a new system for dogs. It consists of a pointer that collapses to the size of a pen. She can pull it out of her jersey and extend it like a stick. The dogs understand what a stick is when she waves it at them and they back off. One dog came running after us across the busy highway. Bec yelled and waved her stick. The dog retreated. Then he saw her put away the stick and took out after us again. Unfortunately, the dog did not pay attention to the cars and is now chasing bikes in heaven. We feel terrible for the dog and the dog owner, but there is nothing we can do. Why the dog was not kept locked up when he lived next to a busy highway, we do not know.

07/16/2002 Hamilton State Park to Diablo Dam

Green mountains covered in mist are on both sides of us. Clear cuts are visible but we can see that they had been replanted.

We arrive at the cutest town, Concrete. It has a big concrete structure with its name on it. The high school extends over the road like a bridge. There is another building that looks as if it had been a school. It is in a state of construction. We are not sure what they are doing to it, but it looks as if it will be interesting when done, almost castle like.

We stop by the fast running river for lunch with the mountains providing the backdrop. The only sounds are the water and cars on the road. A group of folks that are traveling in a van borrow a plastic fork from us. You know you are carrying too much when people driving RV's ask to borrow stuff from you.

Louie likes the road today because it is smooth. Traffic finally lessons a bit. It is warm but not too hot, yet. Bec likes her Mr. Misty. She sprays it often during climbs. Louie is grumbling about the long ride the day before. Topo maps are about five miles off from what our odometers say. The climb to the campground is not as bad as it looks on the map. We take time to stop at an interpretive center that a local recommended to us and at an overlook. We camp by a lake and go for a swim in freezing water. There are no showers so this is as good as it gets. We attend the nightly program about forest fires and get reminded to be very careful not to leave our campfires unattended.

07/17/2002 Diablo Dam to Horse Ranch RV Park

Today's climbing is very difficult. We have mountain passes to conquer. The scenery is spectacular with big jutting rocky mountains all around us. The gray rock mountains wear full skirt dresses of dark green trees with a green grass lace petticoat peaking out at the bottom. Big white waterfalls, starting at the top of the mountains, ribbon all the way to the bottom.

We climb so far up that patches of snow still cling to the rocks in the shade, though the air is 90 degrees. We climb for hours up the mountain passes, two today. The road is dug into the rocks wherever they got in the way. Water doesn't care. It just wants to go down. So, whenever the heat gets too much Bec begs to stop and dunk her head in the icy waterfalls that are everywhere along rock walls beside the road. It helps but only for a few minutes. The climbing continues. Louie says we are finding a flat place to ride next year. We also are getting used to my Topo maps being about 5 miles different from our bike computers.

After an eternity we come to a high grassy plateau. The mountains remain on both sides, yet. We leave the road to find the last town before camping. It is a cute town called Mazama. It is only about one block long but has a grocery store and about 30 young people and one old guy hanging about the store. They have music outside and a guy making burgers. They are making pizza inside. We fuss a bit over the choice and then opt for burgers. The old guy sits down next to us. He is on a bike journey, too. He tells us that he has come from Montana and that his family was coming to visit him so he should not have left. He drives a school bus. He assures us that he could go home at any time, but wishes to finish his adventure. He tells us we have to visit the bakery called Cinnamon Twisp in the town of Twisp. We wonder where all the people came from that are sitting about eating pizza and burgers, listening to the music.

Camp for the night is at Horse Ranch RV Park. The horses are loose and just wander around happily nibbling the grass. The shower is included in the fee so we take as many as we can. They feel wonderful. The mosquitoes are a bit much, requiring repellant for us to be comfortable. We have this cooking stove that requires sticks or pinecones for fuel. It works quite nicely, but likes pinecones the best. Bec had to forage a little to find some. She learned something new today. When looking for pinecones be very careful at horse ranches because some horse dropping look a lot like pinecones, believe it or not.

07/18/2002 Horse Ranch RV Park to Omak

Green is giving way to yellow. Jagged mountains are being replaced by rounded mounds. They remain on both sides still. Some hardy trees cling to space they do not share willingly with others. We ride through Winthrop looking for some services. It is all done up like a western movie set with wood storefronts, but we are too early for any action. We ride on to Twisp to find those cinnamon rolls the old guy spoke of. They are wonderful. Louie gets two huge pastries, one orange and one cinnamon. Bec wanders off to find fruit. Bec tries to behave herself but when Louie cannot finish the orange one it finds its way into her tummy. MMMMMmmmmm.

Back to the task at hand, along side the road, a deer stands motionless. It does not bother to run away. It sees that we are staying on the road and it just waits for us to pass. It probably wonders what the heck we are. Bec does not feel the need to get out her stick to keep it from chasing us and saves the stick for the next dog. Little quail run beside and across the road. Some big furry things stand on their rocks guarding them from some foe. We find out later they are marmots.

We are still climbing today. Back up we go into the mountains. Every turn of the road has something new to look at. It is a hard day for Bec. Her feet hurt all day from all the climbing of all the days. She has to take off her shoes every so often for relief. To our great surprise Omak has a wonderful bike store. She finds some shoes on sale! The mechanic even trades the cleats over for her, though it is a bit of a struggle since the screws have to be filed down. We ship the old ones back at the post offices, though Bec would rather burn them. The bike mechanic tells us about a camp ground in town that costs only three dollars. It comes complete with showers, he says. We check it out but decide to remain with our original plan. The people at the campground look a little too rough for us.

There is a forest fire not far from us tonight. Ash comes down in as a fine gray rain. The park is beside a river. The caretaker of the park comes by to talk to us. She tells us that the tan dirt slide we see against the river wall is where the Indians do their suicide run every year and that they will begin practicing tomorrow. Bec remembers seeing a program about it. It is one of the most dangerous sports. A person has to be an Indian to participate. They run their horses at top speed over the dirt slide and down into the river, across the river to an ending point in the rodeo grounds. The first one across wins. Every year both riders and horses are injured. But it is a great sport to them. Just to participate is an honor since only a certain number can qualify to compete. Of course, there is always controversy surrounding the fate of the horses. Bec wishes we could stay to see them practice, but all the camp spaces are already reserved and we need to continue forward. She tells us that the place where we are sitting was in the movies as well, some western.

Tonight the mosquitoes are the size of boxcars. They buzz loudly about the net opening of the tent hoping to be invited in to dine on our limbs. We do not even think "Off" would work on them so we keep the net of the tent between them and us and check the inside of the tent carefully for any that might have slipped in when we opened the tent to get in away from them.

07/19/2002 Omak to Grand Coolie Dam

We start early today so that we can get our climbing done in the cool of the morning. We are in the pines still. We climb from 6:00 AM until 10:00 AM. We think we are done climbing for the day, but the steep climbs around the dam yet remain. The trees give way to yellow hills once more.

Bec gets to use her telescoping stick a lot. We are traveling through the Indian reservation. They have many loose dogs that find great sport in chasing us. The stick is working well. All she has to do is wave it at them and they run back. One dog almost joined his brother chasing cars in heaven. Those dogs get so single focused on getting us that they do not see the cars in the road, just us.

Louie finds a Leatherman tool alongside the road. This is wonderful because we think we have lost our only knife, though it surfaces latter in the evening.

We stop at a little store, sitting outside to drink a soda. A woman and young man sit to talk with us. They tell us the dam is nothing spectacular, just a bunch of cement. She tells us that life on the "Rez" is just like the movie, "Pow-Wow Highway". The kid rides a bike sometimes and she has one but does not ride it. She tells us that tomorrow we should stay at this one motel in Davenport because it is cheap and clean.

We continue on to the Dam. It feels a lot farther away than the mileage indicates. We round a bend and see the dam in the distance. We climb up a grade and get a wonderful view of it below. Bec looks longingly at the road below next to the river. Why could we not be on that road? We continue climbing and then drop down into the town. The Dam is a huge cement structure. Houses are right next to it, under it. We would not want to live there, though folks are out tending their green lawns and seem happily unaware of all the tons water that is just a few feet away from them. If that thing broke, none of them would be alive to tell about it. They could not get away. They are right there.

We stop at the interpretive center. It is so cool inside. Louie snoozes in the theater. The program tells us all about the glacier dams that happened many years ago and how they would form and break to flood the whole northwest. Not wanting to leave the cool interior, we linger, learning everything we could possibly learn about building a dam. Louie had expected it to look like the Hoover dam, but it is more straight across.

We stop at a store that clings to the wall of the hill that we must climb to get above the dam. We ask some kids if they have ever ridden that hill, pointing to the 10 percent grade that extends one mile up. They say they have ridden down it but know of no one that has made it up yet. It is narrow and steep. It is a very painful climb because we had cooled off too much in the interpretive center and now it feels even hotter. The road is chiseled out of the rock wall, barely wide enough for all of us to use. Cars and trucks struggle to go around us.

At the top of that climb we stop at the last grocery store before the campground. We buy an ice chest so we can have some cold drinks and keep some food for the evening. Louie sandwiches the ice chest between the front handlebars, resting on the front rack. He barely has room for his hands. We continue climbing for about three miles this way, to the camp ground, stopping every so often for him to shake out his hands.

The winds come up in the evening, but it feels wonderful. The stars come out. It turns out to be a wonderful, cool evening.

07/20/2002 Grand Coolie Dam to Davenport.

We climb out in the morning, cresting a hill onto rolling wheat fields. Deer must like wheat fields, because we see two staring us while standing in the road and another one lingers at the side on down a ways. We stop at a city park in one of the small towns to find some young, thin cyclists with heart rate monitors strapped across their chests suiting up for a ride. They must be getting ready to go ride the hills up to the tree covered mountains where we just came from. They fussed about their bikes and equipment.

Later in the day another biker passes us as we inch up the main climb of the day. He passes us on his way back having finished his workout. We speculate that he probably got all the way to Spokane and back by the time we got over the mountain. Oh well, he was traveling light and we were pulling the trailer.

We see a town in the distance, surrounded by nothing. It reminds us of "Barter Town". We wonder if pigs power it. We stop at a small town park for lunch. A kid on a bike comes by to chat. He does odd jobs to make money. He and Louie talk about all the ways a kid can put money in his pocket. The kid says that his cousin lost a Leatherman just like the one Louie found and that his cousin lives in that general direction in the Cascade Mountains.

After the wheat fields we are on open range and rollers. It feels much better than endless climbing. We arrive in Davenport to find a Pioneer Days Festival in full swing. We look for the motel suggested to us by the woman we talked to yesterday. We find it but it is not as cheap as she mentioned. It is probably because we are not locals and she is. We eat chicken and watermelon in the park but Bec has a 100-mile appetite going on so we found the "Berry Bowl" for a steak dinner. Mr. Berry is running for sheriff and owns the local bowling alley. He is having a Kareoke night and Beer Garden outside his establishment. Big burly bouncers open the door for us. We had best behave ourselves, tonight. Young women dressed for the occasion talked nervously about singing. We don't stay to listen because Bec wants an ice cream cone, which we find at a local drive in.

07/21/2002 Davenport to Spokane

We attend the local pancake breakfast in the morning. It is to raise money for the basketball team. Young boys in their bright red uniforms wait the tables. One young guy talks to us about bikes. A couple of old farmers join the conversation. We are surprised to find out that the farmers know where bicycles should be on the road and how to pass them. We would have thought that there would not be enough cyclists in the area for them to know or care, but they do. We stay a bit longer at the breakfast than we should have, but it is great talking to all the local people.

The road cuts a path through pale green wheat fields. The wind blows ripples in the wheat making the silver tips look like fine wisp strands of silver-gray hair. We keep a close watch for crop circles but don't find any.

Bec says that she wishes we would find a bag of money. All at once Louie stops the bike and tells her go pick up the blue pouch he spied along side the road. She hops off and brings it back, unzips and finds $30. There is no name or anything on the bag or inside so it is a gift from the roadside garbage gods. Well, that was nice. Bec has this theory that you can ask for anything and generally get it, but it most often is not exactly what you ask for. She got her bag of money but it wasn't as much as she would have liked. Too bad it wasn't $3,000 instead of $30.

It is very hot in the afternoon. We need a break so we stop at an Army Surplus store to look around. The owner gives us a couple of cold diet pops as we browse. Bec buys a t-shirt for $2.00. Louie has a great time looking at all the stuff. The place has everything you might want and much stuff you would not even know what to do with. It is truly a Disneyland for guys.

We find the camp ground in the afternoon. The ranger tells us it is 1/2 price for bikes so we put the money in the envelope and find our site. It is over 100 degrees. It is way too hot for Louie. The Spokane River is polluted with arsenic and mercury from the mining done alongside it in Idaho. The camp host tells us not to swim in it or even wade in it. We had seen some young folks with inner tubes around them riding their bikes so we wonder if they knew about the pollution. We see folks kayaking on it. We take many showers and generally keep wet for most of the afternoon trying to stay cool. To get groceries we have to leave the park. We discover the local grocery is up a big hill so we find what we can at a speedy-mart at the bottom of a hill. We sit by river and feed the fish a loaf of bread that we find alongside the riverbank. They call all their friends and they all partake of the feast. Some Crawdads even come out to see what is going on.

Later in the evening a couple of rangers come by with flashlights and ask us why we only put $11 in the envelope. We tell him the ranger in the pick up told us we were half price since we are on bikes. He asks his name, but of course we do not know it. He shakes his head and walks off. We would have happily given him the other $11 if he had asked for it. We just had done what we were told.

07/22/2002 Spokane to Lake Coeur d'Alene

We wanted to follow the rails to trails that is supposed to go from Spokane to Coeur d'Alene . It is very hard to follow getting out of town. It is not well marked and we get lost a couple of times, once ending up on the wrong side of the river in the industrial area, which Louie enjoys. We are just about ready to abandon the idea of following the trail when we find it again. We are outside of town enough that it follows along the river quite nicely. Bec really likes this section. It is quiet except for the sound of rushing water and the grade is gentle. There is shade from the trees that line the trail. It brings us up to the road at one point. There is a huge traffic jam. We become a diversion for the folks stuck in the endless line of cars. They wave and point at us as we pass by.

We continue to see several marmots. They look like squirrels but do not have a fat tail. People and vegetation do not seem to be using the river much. The hills are barren and brown and the river void of recreators. It must be because of the pollution. We stop at one of the benches placed along the trail. Louie naps and Bec eats. It is very hot again. We cross into Idaho and the trail continues. We stop again at a roadside rest area that is shared on one side with the highway and on the other side with the bike trail. We stop a lot because of the heat. We find a bistro for lunch. It is cool inside. Because of the heat we have a strange lunch. Bec has oatmeal and Louie has biscuits and gravy. It works. Outside a transient dressed in very dirty long pants and overcoat (in 100-degree weather) stops to ask if this is the way to Coeur d'Alene. After that, Bec washes clothes every night. Louie tells her that she is washing all the luck out of his lucky t-shirt, but Bec does not believe it.

We arrive at the park in Coeur d'Alene. It was once a grand RV park with a covered area complete with gas stoves upon which to cook. It has a big shower house, laundry area, rest room, and many picnic tables. The problem is that it is aging. The tables are all falling apart. The restrooms are crumbling. The pop machines do not work unless you press very hard on the buttons. Only one of the washing machines work. An old guy on an electric cart goes buy picking up things with one of those long sticks with a claw on the end. It is a lovely afternoon so we go exploring after finishing our chores. We walk across a big park, down to the lake, and go wading on a sandy beach. Lots of folks are enjoying the water. They tell us that the lake is natural but the water level is controlled by a dam. We walk up to the local softball game and have a snow cone and ice tea.

We need a rest so we decide to rent a U-haul to take us to Lewiston. It turns out to be a good decision. We can sleep in the next morning.

7/23/2002 Top of Lake Coeur d'Alene to the bottom

We sleep in and it is wonderful. We drive the U-haul to the bottom part of the lake and camp at a state park. During the drive we saw a group of young kids followed by a Rider truck. We were happy to be driving and not riding with them. We spend the day at the campground sleeping on the dock and resting. We have to boil water to use it because the water has e-coli in it. We spend some time getting water ready for cooking and drinking.

The sun setting on the lake is beautiful. We sit on the dock and watch it go down. Ducks are fighting and squawking around us. There is plenty of water to go around so we are not sure what they are fighting about.

07/24/2002 Lake Coeur d'Alene to Lewiston.

We wake up to small animal chatter all around us. There is no rush today since we are driving. We stop at Moscow and send back 14 pounds of gear we no longer need, jackets, long sleeved jerseys, the radio (which we both will come to miss), and other odds and ends to lighten our load. Post Office Security comes out to see what we are doing, since we are taking so much time to go through stuff inside a U-haul. We must have looked suspicious. We are down to one of everything and none of some things now.

We find a camp ground just outside of Lewiston. It is right next to a casino and has an air conditioned restroom. The pool was down for maintenance, however. We go next door to the casino for their $5.00 prime rib dinner and spend a wonderful evening talking to some people who come every week for the dinner. Bec gambles some money in the nickel slots and wins $3.00, which makes up for the money Louie lost at the last casino.

The lady in the trailer next to us tells us that the snakes come down out of the hills at night so not to sleep out. We are told that a big storm is on the way so to be sure to stake down the tent. The storm arrives late in the night with big lightening, thunder and wind. We first crawl inside the back of the truck and then into the cab as the lightning comes down around us. It starts a fire or two in the hills. We can smell it.

07/24/2002 Hells Gate State Park

We drive on to Hells Gate State Park first stopping at the Nez Perce Interpretive Center. We really liked the center. We learned all about them and what happened to them. They were very interesting people. They were wrongly named because they never pierced their noses which is what their name means. When Lewis and Clark came, the Nez Perce only wanted white man stuff from them. They liked the iron cooking pots and other things white men had to trade so they welcomed them happily. Only later did they become a conquered nation when gold was found and we took away all their land.

We dropped off the truck and rode the bike on a trail that took us to Hells Gate Park, which is huge. It goes all along the river. We spent the day just exploring the area on the bike and resting.

07/25/2002 Jet Boat Tour of Hells Canyon.

The morning air is hazy with smoke from fires caused by the storm a few days ago. We arrive at the marina early to get on the boat that will take us down the deepest canyon in the US. The river ride is wonderful. The hills along the river are brown, gray and yellow. Deer and mountain sheep graze on blackberries next to the river. The sheep are very nimble and scurry about on the rocks with ease. The babies are so cute and fuzzy running after their moms.

We pass a mine that was mired in controversy. During the depression years folks invested heavily in the mine that was supposed to be rich in copper and gold. A riverboat full of supplies was scuttled under suspicious circumstances near the landing. No riverboats could make it past that point again so the mine was abandoned and people lost all their investment money. Later surveyed the mine was found to contain some copper but it was not of good quality. We could see the ruins of the buildings that housed the miners and the opening to the mine.

We stop at several points along the way for food and to stretch our legs. One place had an orchard where we could pick fruit and mingle with the local deer and wild turkeys. Bec loved the sweet and juicy apricots. The river ride was enjoyable and worth the money.

07/26/2002 Lewiston to Cottonwood.

The climb out of Lewiston is 40 miles long. It is a difficult day. It is not steep at first, but then gets that way with a 6 percent grade for 20 miles. There is no downhill at the end of the climb, just a plateau. Fortunately, we had started very early to avoid the heat. The scenery keeps us entertained as it changes from brown hills, to green forest, to yellow fields to green trees to green fields and back to brown hills again. By the time we are done, we are both exhausted.

Cottonwood is not particularly a hub of activity. The local street is torn up. There is nothing to do or see. It is surrounded by brown rolling hills. Louie takes care of the nightly chores while Bec rests. The day was just climbing, endless miles of climbing.

07/28/2002 Cottonwood to Riggins

We cycle through rolling hills and wheat fields in the early morning. The road turns nasty with big cracks that force us off the shoulder and out into the road. At first Bec watches for cars and we go back onto the shoulder to allow them to pass. After a few times of that we give up and just make them go around us. It is too difficult to ride over the cracks in the road. We stop at a monument to honor settlers who died during a battle with the local Indians. We see "Red Power" spray painted in red across its face. We think the monument is in poor taste to honor the killing of one group of people for the benefit of another and are actually glad that someone spray painted it.

We pass through a valley with tree covered mountains along side us. It is getting very hot as the tree covered mountains become barren once again. We finally get a 7-mile down hill run. We stop along the Salmon River for a swim. It is wonderful and cool. The temperature is again in the 100's. By the time we get to Riggins, it is 105 degrees.

Riggins is a small community that is down in a rock canyon along the Salmon River. It is a rafting Mecca. There are lots of young people getting back from rafting milling about at the local eateries. It is hotter than anything we have experienced so far on this trip. We were going to camp but decide an air-conditioned motel room is the only way to survive the night. We find one and do not leave it until morning. It is along the river, as is everything, so we did have a nice big window through which we could watch the river. It was too hot to go exploring or do much.

07/29/2002 Riggins to McCall

We get up at 3:30 in the morning so we can ride in the cool pre-morning air. It is 72 degrees when we start but drops to 50 degrees just 10 miles out of Riggins. The full moon and stars help light our way. The moon is so bright that it casts moon shadows from the trees. Light plays tricks and once Louie thinks a dog is chasing us.

Deer begin to watch us as we ride by. In places we can feel the heat coming off the rock walls beside the road. We think that the rock walls around Riggins absorb so much heat that they act as a radiator to warm the air even more. The brown hills once again become pine tree covered. Soon the pine trees open up to a huge wide meadow between the mountains. By the time we get to the appropriately named New Meadows the temperature is back up to 62 degrees. We stop for breakfast and are told that McCall is only 10 miles away but it is straight up. Oh well, we are getting used to that.

The road to McCall is narrow with lots of trucks. It has a 7 percent grade in places. We grind through it. McCall is a winter resort town that is along the Payette Lake. Louie screeches to a halt and sends Bec out to retrieve a wallet in the middle of the road. She dodges trucks and cars and comes back with a wallet containing identification and credit cards. We turn it in at the local ranger station, hoping they can find the owner.

McCall has a few bike paths that are grandly labeled as "bike path to town" or "bike path" but only go for 500 feet or so. It looks as if at one point in time they tried hard to have bike paths but then built over them. After finding our home for the evening, and finishing our nightly chores we took a much-needed nap. We eat an early dinner and are joined by a family of squirrels. We feed them a big biscuit, but there are about a dozen of them milling about wanting more bread. Louie has to chase them away by running around wildly with his hands in the air making monster noises. We go for a swim in the lake, playing on a floating log next to the sandy beach. We spend some time sunning ourselves on the dock.

07/26/2002 McCall to Horseshoe Bend

We ride along the green valley with tree covered mountains on each side. Cows, lots of cows, have replaced the deer. We entertain ourselves and the cows by ringing our bike bell and watching them look up. We follow a big lake on our right.

We climb up to a cool valley lined with lush forest on each side. We see eagles and birds circling above. The cool green valley gives way to a gully surrounded by brown hills and a big headwind. It is the first good headwind we have had to endure during the ride. People are still rafting and kayaking on the river and wave at us as we ride by. The hills are dry and the air is hot once more. We have a down hill run for most of the remainder of the day but the head wind hampers our forward progress so we are forced to pedal when all we would like to do is ride the hill down. Everything is brown, yellow and dry. The only green is the dark green of the sparse sage.

It is a long day of 80+ miles. It is supposed to be an easy day, but the heat and the headwind rob us of that pleasure. When we arrive at Horseshoe Bend, Bec is ready to stop. There is only one place to stay in town and that is an old Train Depot bed and breakfast. We finally locate the owner and secure our home for the evening. It is hot inside. The air conditioner does not seem to make a difference. There is a hot tub outside but it is the last thing we want to sit in.

07/31/2002 Horseshoe Bend to Nampa

The head wind turns to a tail wind and we finally get to ride at a good clip. It seems as if we have spent the whole vacation in and out of mountains and valleys. When we finished the climb out of Horseshoe Bend there were no hills in sight. Where did they go?

Emmett is an interesting little farm town. We stop at a bike shop to find the best way to Nampa. We want to avoid this huge 4,000-foot climb over a mountain to Boise. We still have to climb Freeze-Out Hill outside of Emmett. It is only about a mile climb so it just looks worse in the distance than what it really is.

We start the climb. Bec mentions that we still had not found the bag of money that she had been dreaming of when Louie stops the bike, hops off, and picks up a $1.00 bill. He continues to look and finds a $20, then two $50's. Bec found a couple of $1.00 bills as well. It was just laying along side the road for the picking. It made the hill much easier to climb. We used the money to treat Bec's family in Nampa to dinner.

We stopped in Eagle to test drive an old Winnebago RV parked along side the road. We decided that it was too old to risk driving back to Portland, but that it would be a great canvass upon which to paint our logo. It would have made a very interesting support vehicle for the rides we lead. Louie kept saying, "Well that was exciting", referring to driving the old heap. We may end up getting one someday.

Because of the climbing, this ride was the most challenging long tour we have ever done. Next year we are going to find someplace flat to ride! The most spectacular scenery was in the Cascade Mountains, Hells Canyon, and at the Grand Coolie Dam. All total we rode 908 miles, found $153.25, a leatherman tool, a leather horse whip, a small cooler for ice, a pair of craftsmen pliers, four license plates for Louie's sister's garage, and $20 worth of firewood that we didn't have to buy. We saw dozens of deer, quantities of quail, many mountain sheep, gaggles of geese, countless cows, hordes of herons, billions of bees and birds, scattered numbers of squirrels, bunches of bunnies, and hundreds of horses.

It took us three hours to break down the tandem and pack it along with our camping gear into four pieces of luggage. We caught a Greyhound bus headed for home without incident. The bus ride back seemed much easier than the drive we recently endured from the last Tandem Rally in Boise. In retrospect we wish we had taken the bus.

Finally arriving back to Portland we find that temperatures in the seventies seem a bit chilly to us. We settle in to the task of organizing the next Blueberry Ride and begin to answer forty e-mails we received while on vacation.

See you all on the road!