Gig Harbor Washington to Bar Harbor Maine 2001

Got up early this morning even though I was in a warm bed in a nice motel. Got a pretty good meal from their inept restaurant. (It wasn't what I ordered but I didn't realize it till I was half done.) Then got several days of journal ready to upload including a few pictures. Plugged into a phone and discovered that I didn't have the phone number for the roaming service harbornet uses and the ftp uploading program was an expired demo. Crap.

The motel was pricey enough that we weren't going to leave before checkout time. I was feeling good till I turned the crank. My left knee felt like I'd pinged it with a rock hammer and my right achilles tendon felt like it might just detach from my ankle. I popped a few vitamin I (buprofen) and spun easily for a few hours and it started feeling better. Gridley was feeling the effects of the pass, too and we both kept to a pretty easy pace the whole day.

Garcia, on the other hand, was an animal. We only saw him when he surprised 3 mule deer, just growing their antlers, and again when he waited for us at the end of the day.

I guess we also saw him a the best stop of the day - Twisp and the Cinnamon Twisp (the bakery name and their specialty cinnamon roll). I'll stop in there anytime I'm within 100 miles.

We'd decided to take a lower route to Coeur d'Alene, following the maps from my 1995 Trek Washington. It's a shorter route and avoids 4 more passes. Nuff said. We're very much into Eastern Washington now. Aside from a few tiny sprinkles at the end of the day, it was our first day without rain since the first day. Prayers do get answered.

Hills, rocks, river, agriculture - condensed into one shot

It feels very strange to be on a route I only rode once 6 years ago. My scent is still there, but it's subtle. Like a ghost ride. Several places were so distinct like the pond where an Audabon chapter president pointed out all the different species, a park on the Columbia where he and I laid down on the grass in the sun, a few bends in the river I remember stopping and admiring.

Gridley takes advantage of a flat rock

I thought I'd caught up with Garcia about 10 miles before Brewster, but as I got closer I realized it was someone with panniers and a very large backpack, wearing boots and blue jeans. We stopped at a fruit stand and I learned that he, Masashi, was a Japanese exchange student going to Western Washington University in Bellingham, on his way to surprise friends at Eastern in Cheney. He said that he stayed with a nice man in Mazama last night. I asked where they'd met and he said in Marblemount. Turns out the man had seen him resting and asked if he needed help. He drove him over the pass and gave him a real bed. Wish we'd thought of that.

Garcia came racing up behind me not long after the fruit stand. He'd been waiting at an obvious intersection for 45 minutes and somehow we just missed each other. We found the campground as Gridley came riding up and we voted down Garcia's plan to keep riding.

Masashi (masashi6120@hotmail.com) showed up too and made some miso soup while we struggled with two boxes of tuna helper (2 boxes = 10 servings). While it was cooking Garcia and Masashi had some ramen soup. When our dinner was done, Gridley and I had big helpings and gave Masashi a bowl. Then we had seconds and so did Masashi. Then we were full and Masashi finished off the pot. This is a small guy. He must have been starving.

After we got everything put away, we walked to the store for ice cream sandwiches, along with dozens of other people walking and biking. It's an unusually outdoor town. We rode in past several Little League games, a basketball court full of older teenagers, and several packs of littler kids with supersoakers. Ace must have had a sale.

The campground is an RV park, basically a parking lot with some grass. We're in a grassy area behind the city pool. There's a floodlight above us that makes a buzzing noise that's at least as loud as the light is bright. Could be a long night.

Wilderness camping