Gig Harbor Washington to Bar Harbor Maine 2001

Well the street light and noise really bothered me last night - for a few seconds. Next thing I knew it was sunlight and kids yelling. I made the Mikes get up at 6:30 and we were on the road about 8. Masashi camped with us and got started a little earlier.

Masashi

The sky was clear blue and cloudless - first time this trip. It was a beautiful ride the first 20 miles or so, light traffic, fairly cool, not too hilly. But that changed fast. The temperature was soon in the 70's and the sun was beating down as we climbed hill after hill. Once the wind kicked in, the heat didn't bother us so much. There was a long, long climb as we approached Grand Coulee.

Long and Winding Road

I passed Garcia and Masashi taking a break shortly after Gridley had passed them. He had the peanut butter half of the bagel and peanut butter break I was looking forward to, so I chased him. Big mistake. The rule is "Eat before you're hungry, rest before you're tired." I was hungry and tired plus my knee and achilles tendon were still sore. I'd been spending way too much time with Granny (gear) and popping lots of Vitamin I. Garcia soon passed me like I was standing still and then both Mikes were stopped alongside a nice pond. We inhaled a few bagels and I was feeling much better. Don't break the rules.

When the descent into Grand Coulee finally came, it was fantastic. It almost made up for having the Washington Pass downhill stolen by the cold and rain. We took a break at the Rockin Robin Diner in Grand Coulee before attempting climb back out of town.

Masashi climbs out

Garcia had been leading all morning, even though he said he was hurting. He stopped a a store after the diner as we headed up the hill. My Trek WA map showed a 300 foot climb in 3 miles followed a mile later by an 1100 foot climb in 6 miles. It started off so steep that I expected alternating climbs and flats but it was a long hard steady climb, often with strong winds. Gridley and I made it over with a very few stops and were savoring the fast descent on the other side when we were flagged down by a road construction flagman. A driver had just told him to let us know that our buddy was broken down on the climb. We looked at each other and said, "I ain't climbing back up that hill." The flagman chuckled and we headed off.

The road crew had recently finished paving - real paving, not the seal coating we'd been jackhammered by the last few days, and they were now spreading gravel shoulders. The road surface was perfect but the crosswind was unbelievable. I was afraid of being blown into the occasional car, or worse of leaning into the wind when it let up and getting mired in the soft gravel and tumbling down the steep shoulders.

But we didn't die. The only hard shoulder we could pull off on to rest had a tupperware toilet, so we stopped to see if we could sit in it without being blown over and to eat the sandwich I'd picked up at the diner. We discussed what to do about Mike, but there wasn't much. He had tools, a cell phone and an atm card. He'd just have to make do.

The sandwich helped a lot and we pummelled our way through the wind. When we were still 10 miles away, Wilbur appeared on the barren landscape like an oasis. It was 6:15 when we pulled in and, according to our 6:30 rule, we shouldn't start looking for a campground till 6:30. We did stop at a grocery to get dinner supplies just in case Creston, the next town, didn't have one. Mike had the good sense to ask the clerk about Creston. He said it had a gas station and a cafe, but Wilbur was the big city for the area. By this time it was 6:29, close enough for our rule.

A pack of local kids on scooters and bmx bikes had been racing us, and winning, and they led the way to the RV park and filled us in on the best places to eat.

We were talking about Garcia when we saw his sillouhette on the highway. I flagged him down and he was mighty glad to see us. Turned out he just had a slow leak in his tire and some trouble with energy and/or motivation. When he told us about screaming at the wind, which screamed back, we decided that maybe the friendly motorist was right. He was having a breakdown on the road.

Another silhouette appeared on the horizon before we had our tents set up. Masashi had made it. He was exhausted and starving, but he made it. We showered in the nicest shower of the ride so far and headed over to Doxies for Doxie burgers and malts.

Poplars

We were treated to a beautiful sunset through the poplars, very Monet, and commiserated about the day's ordeal, and the coming day's ordeal. Masashi has another 70 miles or so to get to Cheney. We've got about 100 miles to Gridley's in Coeur d'Alene. And we will get there tomorrow or die trying.