Wednesday, June 25, 2008

The Ride: Phase 2



From Goodell Creek, we began the first and most grueling climbing session of the trip. That day, Wednesday June 4th, the itinerary called for roughly 4500 feet of elevation - up to Rainy Pass at about 4800 feet, followed by a devilishly heartbreaking descent for 1000 feet, and then the final grind up to Washington Pass at 5477 ft.

Of course it was still raining when we awoke the morning of the 4500 ft. climb. This did wonders for our spirits. There were no services for 75 miles, so we pulled into the final convenience store before the pass and ate stale corn dogs and taquitos for breakfast. Our shoes were damp from the day before and still the mist and rain saturated our weary bodies. But we had to press on. Early on, we passed through two dark, humid tunnels that bore through gnarly rock faces in the lower Cascades. We had to press a button at the tunnel entrances to trigger flashing lights, indicating to automobiles that there were bicycles present in the tunnels. The first few miles were irritating. I kept shedding and then donning different layers of clothing in hopes of reaching a comfortable core temperature, but my efforts were in vain. Gradually we got used to the steady grind uphill at a difficult, but possible grade.

The scenery was breathtaking. All around us towered snow-covered peaks and waterfalls of snowmelt cascading down hundreds of feet of mountain. It was cold but we couldn’t feel it through the sweat and toil of the ascent. We stopped frequently to rest and take pictures of the range, and marveled at the beauty that formed as we climbed higher. We passed a dam and kept climbing. It felt as if we would never reach the top.

Sometime during the early afternoon, the sun poked through for a brief time, and we actually started going down. We knew in the back of our minds that we couldn’t possibly have made it to the pass yet, so each mile of coasting downhill was a dagger in that we would have to make it up eventually in reaching the pass. Even so, I had the distinct naive feeling that maybe we made it to the top already and were truly on the way down. I became giddy with the idea that we had crossed the Rainy and Washington Passes without realizing it. My heart shattered when we began to climb again several miles later and the sun vanished again.

I began to get nervous as we climbed higher and higher, since the number of cars on the road seemed to decrease. It got to the point where we’d see one car every half hour. What if something went wrong and we couldn’t continue? We’d surely freeze to death up here! These were some of the scenarios that played out in my head as the grueling ride ground on. Finally we reached the first desolate pass – Rainy Pass. The name said it all. It was definitely still raining. I dismounted my bike and looked around in all directions. It was silent. The mountains really have a way of making you feel insignificant and helpless in the scheme of things. We took in the vast hills of snow-covered pines, inhaling deeply the scent of pristine forest. The first pass gave us a sense of great triumph. We slapped hands and became confident with our progress thus far. Sure, it wasn’t the high pass, but it was a pass labeled on the map nonetheless. Our brief moment of celebration quickly passed and it dawned on us that we still had a ways to go before the downhill coast. I don’t think we even took pictures at Rainy Pass, since we knew what heartbreak loomed ahead.

From Rainy Pass, we descended rapidly at a very steep grade. Our sweat froze to our bodies as we cut down the mountain. My teeth were chattering and morale was very low. We knew when this downhill section ended it would be followed by another 1000-foot climb. I became angry at the world during this final stretch. It felt as if the pass would never come. The trailer began drag mercilessly, like a pallet of bricks with no wheels. I had serious doubts about my ability to pull it the rest of the trip. Here we were, not even three full days into the 2-month tour and I had doubts.

Blair and I yelled, no, screamed encouragement to each other as we churned our legs slowly, like pistons up to Washington Pass. This was the true test. Could we handle it? We would not face a more difficult stretch on the tour. After awhile, we began to be certain that every turn would produce the Washington Pass elevation sign. We prayed for a leveling and drop-off of the road, and it seemed like it would never come. We waited for the final turn, the green sign – and finally it came. “Washington Pass: 5477 ft.” We made it.

We took turns photographing each other under the Washington Pass sign until we got cold. It is important to keep moving all the way down, to keep the blood flowing and the body temperature up, we learned later. But now we were too exhausted to try and pedal down. We threw on every layer we owned in the forty-degree temperature and mist, and bombed down for at least 30 miles – which took about an hour compared to the 6-hour climb. Too exhausted and cold to enjoy the descent, we concentrated on getting to the bottom as fast as possible, to the nearest hotel. Both of us hated the idea of having to resort to a hotel, but we agreed at the pass that tonight was as good a night as any to cave in.

Signs for the Mazama Country Inn popped up as we zipped down the mountain and it was mutually understood that we would be spending the night there. I reveled in the thought of a hot shower and warm bed. We were 13 miles short of where I hoped to be that night, but we were more than pleased with what we’d accomplished. The Inn had a restaurant that was still open, and we quickly tossed in our orders. I wanted the biggest cheeseburger the cook could make, along with a cold Guiness and one of the local Fishtale Pale Ales for good measure. Blair ordered a massive Asian chicken salad and a beer as well. The cook got to work on our meal and we were shown to our room. The food would be ready in 15 minutes so we threw down our stuff and changed out of our spandex. The desk lady informed us that there was a hot tub and I almost kissed her. We got back to the restaurant and devoured our meals like ravenous wolves. After dinner, Blair went to lie down, and was feeling a bit under the weather. I took the rest of my Guiness and had a long soak in the hot tub. My muscles relaxed as I slouched as low as possible into the spa. The tub was outdoors so I was able to breathe the thick, cool Montana air. The worst was now behind us, but there was still the other three passes in the next three days.

...While recounting this leg of the journey, I am sitting comfortably in a blue armchair in the corner of Dave and Brittany’s cozy bungalow in downtown Missoula. But that's another story for another post. Thanks for reading.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Unreal. Good post.

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About Me

a tent, between the pacific ocean and WI, United States
I started writing this to keep friends and family posted about my adventures this summer.