Canada, Eh?

Roadside breakstop



Fields of color in North Dakota.

In Canada right now, taking a short cut across the top of the great lakes after pedalling across the upper peninsula of Michigan. We've been riding on the Trans-Canada Highway, which has NO shoulder whatsoever. Also, being the trans-canada highway, trucks and other traffic zoom by continuously. To complicate matters, it's rained the past two days.
We finally got off the TransCanada highway and headed south on Manitoulin Island. The 40 miles on the island were rolling farmland. We'll take a ferry back to the mainland and head south back to the border and Buffalo, NY.

Where in the world?

We've crossed the 'unofficial' boundary of West and East, the Mississippi River. The source of the mighty Mississippi is the not so mighty Itasca State Park. In the park, you can wade through the stream that eventually will become the river.

Pictures

Sunset in Nashua, MT after a storm.


It's all downhill from here...



Early monring at Diablo Lake, North Cascades National Park




Misty morning road





One of many barns, near Colville WA.

Stillwater Landing Music Festival. Bob featured on the right.

Pedalling through Big Sky Country

Distance Travelled: 1350 miles.

My fortune cookie at lunch read: "Expect some help within the next week. Accept it graciously." I took this for a good omen, because who can't use a helping hand along the way? I just didn't know that help would come so soon....

A bit after lunch, we were in the middle of our longest day yet, and were hoping to call it quits for the day at Duck Lake. As we approached our 75th mile, we started looking for this so called Duck Lake but couldn't find it. There were no signs, so we just kept pedalling away, looking for a place to sleep for the night. At 82 miles, we were getting a bit weary and came across a beautiful camp on a lake. The sign said "No Trespassing" (as everything does in Montana), so we decided to check it out anyway. Either they'd take pitty on us or point us towards a camp spot down the road a bit. We started talking to the first person we saw and they directed us to Bill. Bill was the man in charge and he'd certainly let us know where we could camp. As it turned out, we found Bill and he let us know that, yes, we were trespassing but that we could stay and join the festival. It turns out we'd stumbled on a private music festival put on by Bill.

We set up camp, went for a swim in the lake, and then staked out a grassy spot near the stage. The night had multiple musicians playing bluegrass and folk. The fun continued long into early hours of the morning, though after our long day, we didn't make it quite that long..... As we sat there with new friends, enjoying fantastic music, I realized that this is why I love to travel -- you never know what could happen by the day's end.


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A few nights back, we entered Glacier National Park and prepared to pass over the Continental Divide. We woke up early in the morning because the road closes to bikers at 11am. We started the winding 17 mile road to the summit. We met a guy at the campground that bet us a dollar each that we couldn't beat him to the top. Needless to say, I won the dollar, but he never paid up. The mountain views were beautiful but obscured by the smoke from the forest fires. (it seems that the whole western part of the state is ablaze)

After the fantastic downhill from the divide, the landscape changed markedly. The mountains gave way to patches of aspen trees and then to arid plains. The plains have their own stark beauty, but there is almost no vegetation (no shade to speak of). The plains are featureless -- a sea of grass. The winds whip over the plains. If they're going your direction, you can cruise at 18 mph without pedalling. The last three days, we were able to make 300 miles. When the winds change, and you are pedalling into the wind, you can pedal as hard as possible and only make 9mph.

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It had been raining since we left Portland and hadn't let up until we left the campground early Sunday morning. The plan was to drive the last 60 miles to Cape Flattery, then bicycle back to the campground, beginning the 4000 some odd miles to the Atlantic Ocean. Riding the last 60 miles in the car to Cape Flattery, I was much more cognizant of every hill and mountain, knowing that in a few hours that I would be pedaling back over this same ground.

I must admit, hiking down reach Cape Flattery, the most Northwest point in the continental US, I was feeling a strange mixture of apprehension and excitement. The dream was finally becoming a reality and the only thing left to do was pause for a few pictures, then start pedaling. Fortunately, the trip began with a six mile downhill. We rode along Route 101 bordered by the Straight of Jaun de Fuca on our left and verdant forests on our right. We arrived back at the same campground some 7 hours later, both exausted. My Dad hadn't quite bargained for the hills, coming from Florida, where the third tallest mountain is Space Mountain. I was also a bit unprepared, never having biked further than 50 miles before.

We crossed the 120 miles of the Olympic Peninsula in 2 days, then took the ferry from Port Townsend to Fort Casey on Bainbridge Island. From Bainbridge Island, we were treated to our first views of the Olympic Mountains when the clouds finally cleared. At the northern end of Bainbridge Island, we crossed Deception Pass and headed through Anacortes and then towards North Cascades National Park. The road to the park followed the Skagit River and passed through temperate rainforest and farmland.

Once we got into the park, it was a brutal 30 mile climb to Washington Pass. The uphill slog began at 7 am and lasted us well into the afternoon. At the pass, the landscape changed dramatically. The Douglas Fir forests gave way to sheer peaks then gave way to Ponderosa Pines, sagebrush, and cottonwoods. We paused briefly at the pass and then started 17 miles of glorious downhill.

If there is one great thing about riding a bike, it's riding it downhill as fast as you possibly can. At the top of the pass, I downshifted to my lowest gear then start pedaling as hard as possible. All this yields hair-raising speeds of about 40 miles an hour and ear to ear grins. As we descended from the pass, it was like heading into a blast furnace. You could feel the temperature rising with each thousand feet that we descended. Eastern Washington has been nothing but sunny and hot. With temperatures consistently in high 90s, I drink at least a gallon of water a day and I'm still dehydrated. Any body of water large enough to swim in, we do. This includes lakes, rivers, streams, ect. The locals seem to congregate here also, which makes for some interesting interaction.

Today we finally left Washington State. We're in the town on Sandpoint Idaho and will be entering Montana tomorrow. I have to say, I love the short states - real confidence boosters. The only low point in the trip thus far was getting stung in the face by a bee. My left eye was swollen shut which put me out for a day. Biking with only one eye proved to be too difficult, especially when some drivers try to brush-you-back over the white line.

The Sandpoint librarian is giving me the evil eye, which means it's time to sign off. More to follow....