Greetings from Colville, WA

Hi, All,

After a hard three-day ride north through eastern Washington, I'm taking a day off here in Colville, which was a favorite overnight stop on my ride just last year, when I rode east across Washington on Route 20, the North Cascades Highway. Now that I'm here again, I'll be retracing my route, heading west this time. It's the nicest way east-west across Washington by bicycle. Also by far the most mountainous. But I'm hoping that up here the winds will be more variable and not as strong and relentlessly westerly as they generally in the flatlands further south.

The northward route I took to get here from Oregon brought me through a harsh, mostly treeless landscape that surprised me in being as remote as it was. From Pendleton, Oregon, with a strong southerly tailwind aiding me, I zipped across the border to Walla Walla and made the mistake of not stopping at an ATM. I was down to $12, and as it turned out, for the next 110 miles or so, the few towns I rode through were all ATM-less: not a bank to be had, and in some cases not even a store. But in today's cashless society, a credit card got me by, and by the time I reached Ritzville about 26 hours later, I still had $6 or $7 in cash.

Anyway, here's a more complete recap:

Saturday, 8/30 - day 22 of my solo ride, which began in San Francisco: 96 miles from Pendleton, Oregon to Lyons Ferry Marina, near Starbuck, WA. As I said, I benefited throughout the morning from a tailwind over the flat terrain under cloudy, chilling skies, and I reached Walla Walla - 42 miles - by 11:00 a.m. Looking ahead, then, and asking in a Starbuck's about the road north to Starbuck, WA, I set my sights on reaching the Lyons Ferry Marina. Outside of Walla Walla, as the sky brightened and the day grew warmer and cloudless, I passed by the big state penitentiary ...


State penitentiary, Walla Walla

... and then the road emptied. I rode all afternoon in a nearly carless, treeless landscape, riding past a few farms and ranches but mostly deserted and very hilly grassland. The sense of emptiness became more extreme north of the town of Prescott, when I left the state highways (Rt. 125 to 124) to take a backroad that was a more direct route. And as the afternoon wore on, the easy passage I'd experienced for most of the day began to shift - the winds becoming westerly and gusty, slowing me a lot, the day growing hotter, and the road tilting relentlessly uphill. Because of the early coolness I hadn't been drinking much, and I began feeling dehydrated. I stopped along the road in the shade of cliff, drinking most of a water bottle and eating a Powerbar, noticing the total quiet - no sounds of birds or insects, and from my sheltered spot, not even wind - amid a brown landscape of raw earth and burned grasses.


Between Prescott and Starbuck, WA

Thankfully soon afterward the road tilted downward; I found myself suddenly speeding downhill, and the descent last for nearly ten miles, delivering me to Starbuck. From there it was only seven miles to reach the marina, but even that was a struggle - uphill and a strong headwind now all the way as the road angled westward. A highlight, though, was that as I rode beside the Snake River, I saw two otters swimming pareallel to me. I made it by 4:30 p.m., which was a good thing, since the cafe closed at 5:00. I ordered two hoagies, charged them, and saved them for later - after I'd pitched my tent and swam in the broad Snake River near the confluence of two other rivers, the Palouse and the Tucannon (actually it's a reservoir, Lake Herbert G. West, upstream from the Lower Monumental Dam). It was a rowdy night at the marina; a d.j. had been hired and music blasted until 11:00 p.m., but even the hard core partiers had stopped yakking by midnight.


Lyons Ferry Marina (on the Snake River)

(Despite the hard partying atmosphere, I enjoyed my night at the marina, amid the local boating and fishing, beer-drinking crowd. People generally everywhere I've ridden have been respectful of me and curious about my travels. I've been conscious, though, of the religiousness and political conservatism of the area. Signs are all for McCain and the GOP candidate for governor, Dino Rossi, whose slogan is "Don't let Seattle steal this election." Yesderday I passed the God Fearing Bros. Auto Dealership. ("We finance") And here in Colville, on thew mountain above the town, next to the white "C" denoting local school spirit, there's a large white cross illuminated at night by floodlights. What disappointed me most - back to talking about the marina folk - was that when I told the cafe waitress about the otters I'd seen, she made a face and said "They're a nuisance. They eat all the fish, and even get into people's boats," and that when they're reported, they're trapped and relocated.)

Sunday, 8/31 - day 23: 110 miles from Lyons Ferry to Reardon, WA. A long, hard day through even rougher terrain in order to avoid an overnight stay in an aesthethic location - Sprague, WA - and also to get myself within shooting distance of Colville. The best aspect of this was my ability to do it - the reserve tank of energy that I have after five weeks on the road: I'm in really terrific shape.

The day was hard from the outset. The first 20 miles were filled with steep climbs, the terrain still treeless and now resembling the badlands of the western Dakotas and much of Wyoming. The wind was also much tougher this day: a very strong westerly crosswind that was slowing me as I angled northwest. I sped up at times when the road turned northeast, though, and I kept at it, making steady progress all day. Traffic remained light, towns few and far between: there was one store in Washtucna, 22 miles into my day, then nothing at all in Ralston - no store, no people.


Near Ralston, WA

Finally after 50 miles I reached civilization: the town of Ritzville alongside Interstate 90, with two motels - a Best Western and a La Quinta - and a Perkins Restaurant. It was too early to call it quits for the day, though - only 1:00 p.m. - so I rode on, taking backroads that paralleled the interstate toward the town of Sprague. The land was flatter along this stretch - nearly all of it was wheat fields, and dust devils were whirling across the vast fallow sections.


Dust devil (between Ritzville and Sprague)

And maybe I should have been tipped off by some of the impoverishment in the town of Ritzville proper, as opposed to the outskirts servicing I-90 (a motel in town advertised rooms for $19 with "TV Bed Pillows"), but becasue of Sprague's proximity to the interstate, I rode along fantasizing about the Holiday Inn Express, maybe even a Motel 6, and the restaurants - at least a Denny's - that I hoped I'd find. I was really looking forward to it. The sky had grown cloudy, the crosswind even harsher, and it had begun to sprinkle as I neared the town. Instead the town was extremely dreary. No upscale services at all. Just two ramshackle-looking motels (one of which, the Purple Sage, I was warned against staying in; "The owner's crazy," a policeman said) and one burger-and-fries joint. So after mulling it over and being told that there was a good restaurant and motel in Reardon - 31 miles further - I decided to ride on. It was 4:00 p.m. when I started and 7:00 as I arrived, slowed by the crosswind and the nearly relentless upward tilt to the land: every time I reached the rise in front of me, I'd see, instead of a slope dopwnward, another rise in the distance; in all that day I gained about 1,800 feet of elevation. Then more bad news: there was no motel. But being nearly out of daylight, I made do in Reardon, and I was happy with my decision not to spend the night in Sprague. Reardon was a much nicer, more affluent-looking town, consisting of farmers and only 20 miles or so west of Spokane. There was an upscale steakhouse, the Branding Iron; I just needed a place to stay. So I spoke to the local police, explaining my predicament, and was permitted to pitch my tent in the town park for the night. I had only the men's room sink in the Branding Iron with which to wash, but I ate a good, well-rounded meal and read my book there afterward until bedtime. [A note for all my fellow 2006 Big Riders: Reardon was the one town in my travels this summer that we traveled through on our route across the country, on day 4 between Odessa and Spokane. It's 12 miles east of Davenport, which I think was our midday check-in point. I didn't recognize it until I arrived, but maybe that was part of the better karma I felt there.]

Monday, 9/1 - day 24: 78 miles from Reardon to Colville. A shorter day but difficult because of the winds, which grew progressive stronger and became a full-fledged headwind over the final 27 miles as I rode north. What was most memorable was the shockingly sudden change in terrain. Shortly after leaving Reardon, I stopped to take a picture of a mature wheat field. Further south the wheat had already been cut, but the crop around Reardon was still being harvested.


Wheat field near Reardon, WA

A half-hour later I was back in evergreen forest, descending through a canyon, mountains on either side of me.


Back in greener pastures - Valley, WA

For the rest of the day I was surrounded by mountains, the road carefully paralleling them and slipping through gaps, so there weren't any big climbs; that starts tomorrow; and I relished being back in greener, more scenic country. The road was quiet until I reached the north end of Route 231, which I'd followed since leaving Sprague, and turned onto the much larger, more traveled U.S. 395. The road was safe enough, with a lane-wide shoulder, but traffic was heavy and that's where the wind really became fierce, as the land opened up into broad mountain valleys. I reached Colville by 3:00 p.m. and rode directly to the fairgrounds where I'd stayed last year - a nice grassy area where it costs $5.00 per tent to camp. It's also on Adventure Cycling's Northern Tier Bicycle Route, so for the first time since my solo trip began, I spent the evening talking to some fellow travelers.


Sunset over Colville

That's it for now. From here there'll be tough mountains all the way to Seattle, beginning with a 4,000+ foot climb over Sherman Pass (elevation 5,575) tomorrow. I'll be in Seattle on or about September 8th and then set off the Big Ride Pacific Coast from Seattle to San Francisco on behalf of the Lung Association on Spetember 13th.

-Charlie