End of the ride

Taking Amtrak's Empire Builder back east, to see the country from a different vantage point. Alaska by bicycle must remain a great notion for now.

Enjoying this train ride, mostly following my 1978 bike route east across the northern plains. Met Brian, who rode from Virginia, only to have his bike stolen in Portland. He's taking it well, since it was an old bike and he's young.

So gentle reader, I thank you for following along,  encouraging and indulging me as I played with this "travelblogue." Hope you had fun with these virtual postcards; I certainly did.

Portland: Beervana/Bikevana

I love the multimodality of this city. The photo, taken from the walkway serving the Oregon Health & Sciences University, shows the cable car connecting it to hospitals on the hill above, light rail tracks, bike lanes, and a bike valet parking and rental station. Just out of the picture was a Car2Go (like Zip car) sign up booth.
Very accessible town, very walkable.
One of the bridges across the Willamette has a bicycle counter, demonstrated by my daughter Clare.
Oh yeah, lots of craft beers, too.

Leaving Spokane

 

 

I'll be getting a ride to Portland early tomorrow. I've been hanging around Jack's horses for a week and I feel I'm as out to pasture as they are. With bike repairs, road fatigue and lingering aches and strains, ambition recedes. Only when you stop do you realize how beat you are, and that there are limits to what you can and want to do. Continuing to ride on to Portland, in high summer, across hot, dry, windy country, with long distances between towns and then bad roads and traffic along the Columbia River, just lost its appeal. 40 years ago I did this route in reverse, in September, after riding in rain south of Seattle and coming down with a cold that eventually turned into bronchitis. I got a ride the last 90 miles after a waitress took pity on me and my hacking cough and arranged a hitch with a truck driver heading to Spokane.

 

As for Alaska, there was a front page story in today's Spokane newspaper about a cyclist chased by a wolf in the Yukon. When he tried to out run it the wolf attacked the guy's packs, even as he sprayed it with bear repellent. The wolf was only driven away when other people stopped and threw rocks at it. The details can be found here: http://www.tinyurl.com/bike-wolf

Spokane idyll

Four days off so far, nice visit, pleasant weather and great food. Losing all ambition, but need to get back on bike and head for Portland or?

Otis Orchards WA mile 2965

Made it to my brother Jack's house just moments before his wife Debi returned from the airport with Linda.
101 miles today, a new time zone, and my first encounters with any other touring cyclists. Mid-morning chatted briefly with a  couple from Canada heading to the east coast. In Sandpoint, just before the 2-mile pedestrian bridge across lovely Pend Oreille Lake I met Lou,  slack packing with just 2 changes of clothes, heading to Detroit. Originally from there, he now lives in Luxembourg, but he had lived long enough teaching in Australia (after years playing basketball in Europe) to sound like an Aussie. Few miles down the road I met Steve and Nancy from Portland ME heading to Calgary to visit their daughter.
And then at the WA border I met two brothers from Spain, Juanjo and Kiko, riding from Seattle to Argentina.
What vicariously international  and extraordinary cycling experiences to pack into my last day on the bike for a while!

Noxon MT mile 2863

Short day, since Noxon was the only place I could get a motel room. Nothing available farther on near Lake Pend Oreille, with the holiday approaching. There was noticeably more traffic as well, with more ups and downs as the valley narrowed at times. And it got hotter sooner today than yesterday. Well into the 90's early this afternoon when I stopped.

About 100 miles to Coeur d'Alene, not sure how far from there to my brother Jack. So a very long day tomorrow in the heat.

I was amazed by this mound of horseshoes at a small ranch along the road, with only 2 horses visible. Could one of them be the Imelda Marcos of horses?

Plains MT mile 2797

Left Missoula just after 6am, cool morning, sun not yet over mountains. Climb up valley for a couple of miles, enter the Flathead Reservation, and then roll down into the flats surrounded by mountains. Follow the Jocko River which joins the Flathead and finally the Clark Fork, which flows all the way into Idaho. After huge pancakes in Ravalli, near the National Bison Range, I make good time going downstream, despite the heat. Get to Plains before 1pm and call it a day, 75 miles. 95 degrees, expected to be over 100 later this afternoon. And it reaches 103 at 6:45.

Liked the signs in the reservation, as well as the animal bridge over the busy highway. But I really enjoyed the gushing spring just before Paradise MT-- piped down the mountain, under the train tracks and up to the road where it pours out; a smaller pipe takes some of it under the road to provide water to the house on the other side.