May 2016 – galvindbiketrip

Idaho and NW Montana – wide open country

Posted on May 30, 2016June 2, 2016 by galvind

Wow, is this a beautiful – and remote – part of the country or what? The vistas, the forests, the lakes, the rivers, the deer (and moose!), the empty roads, and, oh, did I forget, the mountains — what an awesome part of God’s country. And the people — friendly as all get-out, welcoming, incredulous (and supportive) of my trip.

I spent less than 48 hours crossing the panhandle of Idaho. I passed by the shores of the Pend Oreille River and Lake Pend Oreille, and spent a night in Sandpoint where I got a new chain at the Greasy Fingers Bike Shop and great coffee at Evans Brothers near the old grain tower. I can see why people rave about this place — the views in every direction are awesome.

After a morning cycling around the north end of this beautiful lake, I passed through Clark Fork and entered Montana just like that. Two states down, 14 to go.

Almost immediately the immensity of this state presented itself. Talk about wide open spaces, untraveled roads, enormous vistas, big sky. I get it now. Montana is one BIG place. And I’ve just scratched the surface.

I had a wonderful cycle up the Bull River Valley, with views of the Cabinet Range peaks, and stopped at the Halfway House on route 56 near Bull Lake. This is a bar, restaurant, and center-of-action for this valley. It was Saturday night of Memorial Day Weekend, and the locals invited me to camp behind the tavern — “live band tonight!” Folks came out of the woods as well as the woodwork — I had no idea so many locals existed in this remote valley. I was welcomed and included, captured by three 7-8 year old girls who took me under their wings. This was an extended family who live nearby, collect morels, drive 4-wheel ATVs, and probably have a very different view of the political world. Yet that never came up — they were so hospitable and friendly, it was a wonderful experience to include them in my world and me in theirs. Nice folks, close to the earth, good with their kids and loving this remote, rural life. The sense of family and community was deep.

I rode through Libby, Montana (site of the notorious WR Grace vermiculite mines and a town that had one of the highest asbestosis death rates in the world, but sleepy and well-kept today). Upstream, I rode by the Libby Dam (operated by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers), an enormous dam on the Kootanai River that is part of the larger Columbia River system; the lake it creates behind it floods well up into Canada. I camped on this lake (Koocanusa) and rode along its remote shores for many miles through beautiful forests and quiet roads.

I turned a corner after Rexford, MT, and suddenly came out into an agricultural valley with views of the Rockies from Banff to Glacier. What an extraordinary spot, within 5 miles of the Canadian border.

I camped the night at a town park in Eureka, MT, and spoke with a couple who live in the town. They agreed with my assessment of its beauty, and said they loved it so much they’d never leave the area. I can see why.

Onward tomorrow to Whitefish, MT, where I’ll meet Mary Sue and son, Nick, who are coming in on Wednesday. It’ll be so nice to spend some time with them and chill a few days from the focus on my ride. After that… Up over Going to the Sun Road in Glacier National Park, and onward East!

— Dave

Eastern Washington

Posted on May 27, 2016June 1, 2016 by galvind

I know I’ve left the coast and entered the Inland West when I see Ponderosa Pines, hear Western Meadowlarks, see Chicken Fried Steak on menus and am called “Honey” by the woman behind the diner’s counter.

After enjoying a wonderful rest day with Lucy Reid and Bernie Bernheisel down the Methow Valley, more angels appeared in the form of former colleague, Steve Oien, and his wife, Hanne, who invited me to stay with them at their place just south of Mazama. A hike up to a spectacular valley view just above their place, plus good food and conversation, made for an unexpected treat that night.

(Bernie and Lucy at Bernie’s place on the Methow River in Carlton, WA)

(Hanne and Steve on the ridge above their place near Mazama)

The next three days centered around climbing mountain passes. In my trip planning I had glossed over how mountainous the Northeast corner of Washington state is — I rode over Loop Loop Pass (4000 ft.) to the Okanogan Valley, then over Wauconda Pass (4300 ft.) to Republic, then over Sherman Pass (5600 ft.) to Colville in three consecutive days. Relentless seven-percent grades are a good workout when fully loaded down with cross-country gear!

More angels appeared in the Okanogan Valley where former neighbors Jeannie and Jack Spurlock met me at a tiny RV site in Riverside, WA. They were testing out their new, luxurious camper-van, which they plan to take to Alaska this summer, and plied me with beer and dinner after my 74-mile Loop Loop day as well as coffee and eggs the next morning to get me going on my way through Tonasket and over Wauconda Pass. It was a treat to see these friends in such an out-of-the-way place.

(Jeannie and Jack on their maiden voyage with a fancy new camper-van)

And yet another, completely unknown road angel appeared in downtown Republic as I sat by the curb trying to assess my camping options for the night. A car stopped and the driver asked, “Are you doing the Northern Tier (bike route)? Want to stay in my yurt?” The kindness of strangers is an awesome thing!

In Colville I ran into a couple from Portland, OR — Holden and Helene Hughart. Holden is doing the same ride as I am, after retiring at the end of last year. He started in Neah Bay well after me and is making double-time in part because Helene is serving as his sag wagon and thus he doesn’t have to carry a full load on his bike (plus he looked to be in much better bicycling shape!). Nice people. It was fun for me to ride for half a day with Holden, chatting all the way, after all my solo days to date — he was nice enough to ride at my pace. By today he is already well ahead of me and will finish at Quoddy Head lighthouse in Maine before the end of July.

(Helene and Holden at the Beaver Lodge Cafe between Colville and Ione, WA)

Coming out of Colville yesterday, as I was looking at my map searching for a work-around to a detour, a worker asked, “Where you headed?” “Maine,” I replied. “Is this the right direction?” “NO,” he retorted, “the airport is back that way!” After much laughter and good conversation, he wished me Godspeed.

I had my first 90+ mile day from Colville to Newport, which is right on the Idaho border. Unfortunately this otherwise lovely day was marred by FOUR dog attacks along a ten-mile stretch of road through the Kalispell Indian Reservation. Loose dogs are a hazard peddling on rural roads, but this was a bit much. If it weren’t for the pepper spray that I carry right on my handlebars, I might have spent last night in the Spokane emergency room.

This remote corner of Washington state has a different culture from Puget Sound, for sure. I have overheard conversations in the diners expressing enthusiasm for Trump, dissecting Hillary’s emails, and discussing where the militias will meet to resist the urban hoards when the nuclear bombs hit. Seriously. Yet despite the extreme politics, people are friendly and I get many more waves from passing rigs than the few who don’t give me an inch on the road. People I talk with are uniformly encouraging, even enthusiastic, when they hear about my trip. Such encounters renew my faith in America and the generosity of Americans regardless of stripe.

I entered Idaho this morning. One state down, 15 to go! Thanks for your interest and your positive thoughts. I hope you are enjoying the postcards from rural America in my photo gallery — we sure do have a beautiful country out here.

— Dave (posted from Sandpoint, Idaho)

From the Pacific over the Cascades

Posted on May 22, 2016June 1, 2016 by galvind

What an amazing first week! 350 miles into the trip, from salt water to dry Eastern Washington farmland over the North Cascades. Tail winds most of the week, great weather until the heavy lift over the mountains on a cold, wet day 7.

My ride across the top of the Olympic Peninsula was lovely after my first-day trial with the rigs on highway 112. I found portions of the Olympic Discovery (bike) Trail which were quite wonderful – quiet, off-road, just me and the birds singing – a real gem for bicyclists in this area. I swept through Port Angeles along the waterfront, and through Port Townsend where I had a nice lunch visit with former co-worker Cindi Alberti before catching the short ferry ride across Admiralty Inlet to Whidbey Island. I enjoyed a relaxing rest day with Baz Stevens in Freeland, including a visit from Mary Sue who came up after work from Seattle.

Then my route took me up Whidbey (including getting strafed by Naval Air Station Growlers – EA-18G, carrier-based jets); over the always-impressive Deception Pass Bridge; then across the Skagit Flats and up valley into the edge of the Cascade Mountains. Giant steelheads lurked under the bridge over the Cascade River. The guy at the cash register in Marblemount General Store asked, “So where are you headed?” “Maine.” He gazed into space over my shoulder with a look as if to say, “The loonies are back,” and sighed, “I guess it’s that time of year again.” (I’m now officially on the “Northern Tier” cross-country bike route as mapped by the Adventure Cycling Association — this guy must see his share of us loonies as we head east! I am one of the first of the season.)

After a wet night at Colonial Creek campground on Diablo Lake in the North Cascades National Park, I had my first really challenging day as I rode in the cold rain up and over the Cascade Mountains. As I slogged uphill going a robust 4 miles-per-hour in low gear, an SUV stopped ahead of me and out popped Lisa Niehaus, a former co-worker on her way to Winthrop for the weekend. What an unexpected treat! The ride was a relentless 31-mile, 6.5 hour climb to Washington Pass at 5477 feet above sea level — my first major milestone, snow still deep by the sides of the road. The following 18-mile downhill was a bit scary until I got more comfortable at speed with all the weight I’m carrying, on wet pavement, plus so cold that I was hypothermic by the time I reached the Mazama Country Store. Three cups of hot coffee to wrap my hands around eventually warmed me back up.

Since Kim and Steve at North Cascades Basecamp are swamped launching a new field course this weekend, houseboat neighbor Lucy Reid and her friend Lee “Bernie” Bernheisel, who both have houses in Carlton in the Methow Valley, appeared on a moment’s notice like angels to sweep me up, give me a roof, bed, hot shower, soup and great conversation! Angels indeed. I’m enjoying a restful day off at Bernie’s place right on the Methow River, drying out my gear, doing laundry and listening to the birds singing outside.

Speaking of birds, I’ve started a list which I post on a separate page. All the way from Neah Bay to the Cascades I have been serenaded daily by Black-headed Grosbeaks and Western Tanagers along with many other varieties. I’m paying attention to what I see and hear from my handlebars as I peddle along. List to date in close to 70 species! It was fun late yesterday to hear my first meadowlark, a sure signal that I’ve left the coast and crossed into the Inland Empire. No more salt water for a long while.

The old body seems to be holding up so far, with one rest day in the first seven and 350 miles under my belt. I must admit that yesterday’s long, cold, wet climb over the mountains was the hardest day I’ve ever spent on a bike. It was with joy and a few exhausted tears that I stopped to celebrate having achieved the high pass.

My friend Baz says that I need to articulate WHY I am doing this ride. I wondered, sometimes aloud, about this as I slogged over the mountains yesterday. I’ll write my thoughts in a separate page. But I do want to close with a note of appreciation for all my friends near and far who are watching over me, worrying more than I am about my daily challenges, and supporting my ride through postive thoughts. I’ve already had many moments where suddenly things have gone right — I’ve thanked my mom Rita many times for helping me out from above, and I expect that your positive thoughts are involved too. Thank you. Even on a solo adventure, I’m close to so many kind souls that I feel blessed.

Onward to the east. Next major challenge: the Rockies in about ten days.

— Dave

P.S. I’ll continue to post more photos on a separate page (“Photo Gallery”). In addition, I am trying to post daily maps (“Where’s Dave?”) so, if interested, you can check in between blog posts to see where I am.

Launched

Posted on May 15, 2016 by galvind

My odyssey began today, finally after all the planning and anticipation. I’m now sitting at Crescent Beach on the Strait of Juan De Fuca after peddling 62 difficult miles, eating the best smoked salmon on the planet along with Fritos, for starters; full dehydrated meal to follow as I try to replenish the 3000+ calories I burned. I’m off the vegan wagon on this trip!

To back up, Mary Sue drove out to Neah Bay with me yesterday. We camped at Hobuck Beach where the Pacific Ocean’s waves thunder ashore. We hiked out to Cape Flattery, at the edge of the continent, the farthest one can go in the Northwest corner of the lower 48 states, and looked across to the lighthouse on Tatoosh Island. We visited the Makah Tribe’s Museum, which houses an amazing collection of wooden, ocean-going canoes, whale bones and artifacts from the famous Ozette excavation site. We also bought smoked salmon from our favorite Makah place, Take Home Fish Co.

It rained most of the night, and I kept waking up thinking, “How fitting for my first day to get soaking wet here in the Northwest.” But the gods were with me as the day was cool, overcast with only scattered light rain, actually good weather to bike in.

Yesterday was opening day for the halibut fishing season, so usually-sleepy Neah Bay was packed with guys and their gear, rigs pulling enormous boats. The downside for me was that most of these rigs pulling gigantic boats left on the little curvy road out of Neah Bay today, and I spent most of the day trying hard to not get knocked off the narrow, winding road with no shoulder. This is actually a very dangerous road to bicycle on — I wouldn’t recommend it for others. But I survived.

I stopped at a nice diner in Sekui after a couple hours riding and had a gi-normous eggs-and-hash-browns breakfast. I hope to repeat this pattern all along the trip!

For my first day, on a difficult stretch of road and weighed down by a lot of gear, I felt that the first 62 miles of this voyage were hard earned. I’ll sleep well tonight.

— Dave

My Kit

Posted on May 6, 2016May 21, 2016 by galvind

As I prepare to launch this adventure, I’m focused on what I need to bring, and what I need to leave behind. Hard choices, indeed. Even with the hard choices, I feel like I’m bringing way too much. I expect I will end up shipping some of this stuff home after getting tired carrying it. But for now, here is my starting-out list:

Bike Stuff:

helmet (Giro – serial # Y7632452)
Road I.D. bracelet
(in case of an accident, it lists my name and contact numbers for Mary Sue, Nick and Veronica as well as my health insurance number)
tire pump
extra tubes (2)
tire change irons (3)
puncture seals for tubes
all-in-one tool kit (Allen wrenches, screw drivers, spoke wrench, etc.)
crescent wrench and cassette nut
FlashStand (Topeak brand – alternative to a kick-stand that attaches onto crank arm)
replacement spokes (4)
no extra tire or extra chain (I’ll be riding through towns with bike shops, so if I need replacements, I’ll be able to find them — I hope!)