Othello to Palouse Falls

As I type this, I am sitting at a picnic table next to my tent. The sun just went below the horizon and it's getting really nice. There's another couple adjacent to me who drove here from Seattle, and on the other side, a couple of Spanish speaking families, with six kids and a little dog. It's almost as good as TV. Speaking of which, last night in Othello, Once I had recovered some of my senses, I walked next door to a little Mexican restaurant. I think I was the only gringo there. The food was cheap, and amazingly good. There was a big color TV blaring some seventies sitcom I had never seen. Like being in someone's house. I had "Camorones ala Diablo," and it was perfect. As Steve Ahlbom would say, "it was so spicy I could taste it with both of my mouths." I hope I'm not misquoting him.

So. I was thinking this leg would be a refreshing break from my desperate ride of Monday. Fewer miles, though more than I thought because I miscounted on the map. I was expecting 46, it was actually 60. Not only that, but even though I left at dawn, temperatures rose even faster than the previous day, and halfway through I was once again questioning whether I should be doing this at this time of year. In Connell I talked with the local police, I had pulled into the shadow adjacent to him to call about camp reservations. Then I realized it probably looked like he had pulled me over. He laughed when I said where I was going: "Oh, it's all just more of the same, hot and dry. You'll like the falls though." I had my first flat just outside of Connell. Front tire, a goat thorn or a radial wire, both were embedded about the same place. I had just finished fixing it and was getting back on my bike when a voice came out of nowhere: "You all right?" There was a woman out running, and in the wind I didn't even hear her approach. We were about five miles out of town so i wasn't expecting someone not driving a big rig. I said I was fine, and then she laughed and said "Not that I could have helped you if you weren't." Fortunately, the town of Kahlotus sat midway through my ride, and I thought I would fuel up with a good lunch there. Unfortunately, riding into Kahlotus in the late morning is like entering one of those Twighlight Zone towns. It looks like a town, it has buildings and trees, I even hear voices in the distance, but I saw almost no people. The sensible citizens of Kahlotus were probably inside out of the heat like they should be. There was no store, no cafe. Fortunately, there were restrooms with water, so I topped off and drank as much as I could, similar to the previous day at Saddle Mountain. Then I struck out for Palouse. The only relief from the blistering heat (radiating back off a very black road) was a decent quartering tailwind. When I stopped, I actually felt cooler. Once I reached the turnoff to Highway 261 towards Palouse, I looked up and saw the road winding steeply into the hills. As it turned out, most of the remaining nine miles was uphill. 10% grade in some places. This was really not fun. In Fall or Spring, it would be delightful. There was one turn where the rock cliff gave me about thirty seconds of shade and I felt just fine until I went back into the sun.

Finally, I reached the turn to the campground. Hard packed gravel. It was ridable but a little washboarded, and it's all downhill, for two miles, which means I have some work to do to get back out, but I'll do it at fifty-five degrees, maybe before dawn. this time.

Tomorrow I'm riding to Pomeroy. I have a room reserved. It's only forty-five miles. I wrote all the numbers down and added very carefully. The camp host tells me it's mostly downhill, not like the way in here from the west.

Highs the next couple days are predicted to hit mid-nineties. I will have to devise a plan to make this survivable. Thinking I might see about getting a rental car to fast forward to some more forested sections. Or pray for clouds. Gotta do something, or I just don't see how I can do this. Anyhoo, it's so beautiful here. Clear sky, (nice at night, deadly by day!), the falls, which I had never seen before are stunning. And my neighbors are entertaining, even though we haven't actually spoken to each other yet. Sure would be cool if they said "want a beer?"