Canyons, Coulees, Still Seeking Shelter

I woke up at 4:30 am, in preparation for my pre dawn departure, but it was still so dark out I didn't think I'd be able to see well enough to work. So, at 5:00 am I started the process of taking my tent down and packing while making coffee and oatmeal. The sun crested the horizon just as I started up the gravel drive to get back out to the highway from Palouse Falls.

It was nice last evening. As soon as the sun went down, it started cooling to a tolerable point. I made a huge pot of linguini (the box weighs a whole pound so I wanted to start converting it to sweat) with tuna stirred in. I went into the tent by 8:30 and just listened to my neighbors on both sides. Entertaining enough. Somewhere I think I slept but have yet to really enjoy a night of sleep.

The Spanish speaking families were interesting. I could hear little spurts of conversation coming from the tents all night. At about four, someone sang a few lines of something. When I got out of my tent at five, there were two people out firing up the propane stove, but by six they were all back in their tents again. The couple from Seattle stayed up pretty late, and in the morning, not a sign of life. I really wanted to sleep in. I thought of taking a rest day there, but when Linda found me a room on Pomeroy, I decided to head on.

The route out of Palouse Falls is amazing. Mostly descending, and I'm pretty sure steeper than what I climbed to get there from the west. Highway 261 winds like a snake down through deep canyons, until you pop out at the Snake River by Lyons Ferry Park. There is tons of camping around Lyons Ferry, though my Washington Bike Map doesn't indicate it. Also water for swimming. I wonder if they even had showers? From the bridge I had super-smooth, wide shoulders, until the town of Starbuck, then it was back to hugging the white line. There is very little traffic on these highways, at least this early, but most of it is big rigs. Most of them are very nice about easing over as they pass, and the couple who tooted their horns I think were more of a "hello" than "get out of my way." One funny thing about that flag on my trailer. It looks too jaunty. I could be about to die of heat stroke, but people would probably just say, "have a nice one!" People have been pretty friendly, and I am surprised how nice people are on the road in rural areas. So why is it was I can ride in a congested city or out in the middle of nowhere and feel like I belong, yet in between, say Carnation, being seen on a bike elicits such hostility. One exception to the "nice" streak. I was just heading out of Starbuck, and could see an apparent hitchhiker standing at the edge of the road with a couple of bags. I'm on a bike, and he's just standing there, so this is one of those slow approaches like the castle charge in Monty Python's Search for the Holy Grail. Finally I'm about a car length away and I give a wave and say "morning," and I pass within two feet of him, but he just gives me a silent stare as I pass. Like if I stopped maybe he would stick a knife in me. Seconds later, a car pulls slowly by me and I hear a voice coming from the passnger window. It's my camping neighbors, and the woman shouts out "enjoy the rest of your day!"

I've also had a couple dogs sprint for the front gate as I go by, but so far only one tried to catch me beyond that. I could see him round the corner and accelerate, but it was downhill so, no contest with this trailer pushing me.

Temperature was very nice, until about the last eight miles. At that point I started fading fast, and it started getting pretty hot. I arrived in Pomeroy, anticipating that "step into the air-conditioned motel room feeling," and found a deserted, locked up motel. At first I couldn't even find the door to the office. Did I say it was hot? By now it was feeling like a hundred, though it was probably not that hot yet. When I tracked down the phone number I got a recording. Back at the ranger station at the town's edge, they told me "oh, he's really hard to get hold of, they don't usually open up until four." It was after 12:30, and I could not imagine waiting all afternoon in the sun in my bike clothes. The woman at the ranger station had also mentioned there was a B&B in town, but that was it. I rode back, and she gave me a phone number. Turns out the owner had just stopped in from her other job when I called. In ten minutes, I was checking in and apologizing for my appearance. After a shower, I had a great roast beef sandwich and huge salad at the Soggy Bottom Coffee House. The B&B is Maggie's Garden. I'm not the only bike traveler to have stayed here, she says. It is very comfortable and feels like a refuge. If not tonight, I may take a rest day tomorrow in Clarkston. I really need recovery time. Forecast to be 110 in Lewiston tomorrow. There's no way I should be outside when that happens. Only thirty miles to Clarkston, but there's an almost 3,000 foot pass to clear. I will have to reach it while it's still cool out.