Day 62

Stuck my head out of the tent just in time to see the South Africans pull out of the fairgrounds. I waved as they went, while pulling on my blue jacket. A little chilly this morning. The sprinklers were still going and a man in a golf cart showed up to move them. I was worried he might make me pay but he didn't pester me.

Decided on a hot oatmeal breakfast this morning. The first on the road for me. Even after 62 days, there are still firsts.

Packed up and went over to my hiking friends, who roused later than I, for to give them my card. Jeannie offered me coffee, but I declined. She said thanks for the card and added, "you're going to do great things. You're already great! Just keep in school."

Out of the fairgrounds, I rode into the town of Republic. I was met by an impressive gold monument.

Not made out of gold itself, but apparently signifying the amount of gold pulled out of the surrounding mines.

I laughed at this motel's substitution for a No Vacancy sign. A frank "SORRY."

Stopped the grocery store for peanuts. 8 or 10 Forest fighting Hotshot Crews we're in the parking lot getting supplies.

The smoke had moved in substantially since the night before. Not sure exactly where the fires are, but none of my roads were closed as of yet, so it wasn't a worry of mine.

Took a left in town and started the climb up Wauconda pass. Far less demanding than Sherman pass, but still not easy.

Just before I reach the top I rode past a placard commemorating the old town of Wauconda. Three Brothers From Wauconda Illinois had started it after striking gold in the surrounding hills. It exploded for a time but after 1904 the gold was gone and the people left. There were a couple shacks still remaining.

At the top I relished in the small accomplishment, but could feel a warm breeze coming from the other side. I knew I was about to enter something very different.

I descended on the other side and was met with stubborn headwinds. Still had to peddle vigorously even with the decline. The trees thinned and the grasses expanded. I was now seeing the transition between grassland and mountain forest that was all but missing going into Glacier.

I hadn't hardly take a break on the way up the pass so I pulled over under some large ponderosas for a rest.

As I lay on my side eating crackers and deviled ham from a can, those Race Across Washington folks started coming by. I got back in their ranks and began the long descent into Tonasket. It was perhaps 17 miles, and nearly all downhill, but with the head winds it was still a struggle. The heat (which was 97 or 98 by now) and the dry wind blowing in my face was enough to get the nose going again. I felt it start to bleed this time, and plugged it quickly with a napkin I had in my handlebar bag. That stopped it so I left it there to get crusty and dry before trying to remove it. And these racers will see that I'm the real hardo around here.

This was a story I found interesting.

The hills became more rocky and dramatic as we dropped into the Okanogan River Valley.

Beautiful country, but it was hot as blazes now. Just about two o'clock, I pulled into Tonasket.

Oh how I love stores with funny names. This was a good one for a vintage variety store.

I found a visitor center that advertised bathroom and Wifi. Breezy pulled into the gazebo to cool off with the greats of Tonasket.

Walked in to the visitors center, which was in an old house, and met two kind ladies. I asked the only question that had been on my mind. "Where are the fires?" They didn't know exactly, somewhere in the Pasayten wilderness. They did insist on giving me a map though, which I took only out of curiosity. Later, sitting under the gazebo, a man shouted at me from behind while he pulled in on his bicycle "The Lone American!" I turned and he said "Oh I thought you were someone else with long hair and a green shirt..." We ended up talking for a minute. Name was Tim. He told me this was a meth town and to watch my stuff. That was good enough reason for me to push on to Okanagan.

Rode across the river and down a smaller road before rejoining Highway 95.

Hot enough to take a break at every chance I got. Riverside was 10 miles down. There I crossed back over the Okanogan River to get back on yet another smaller Road to avoid the highway. River looked nice.

Rounded the riverbend and entered the Colville Indian Reservation. Then I was in Omak. A much bigger town than Riverside.

Rested at a bathroom outside the High School football stadium. Is that a medicine cabinet? No, it's the mirror.

Back over again and down Main Street Omak.

The smokey light gives everything an orange tint. Just 6 miles more to Okanagan. I was feeling toasted, but there was a city park I was aiming for. Along the road a fire truck sat outside the blackened remains of a building which had just burned to the ground and was now smoldering wet from the hoses' spray. A man in suspenders standing in a puddle looked at it with hands on his hips and the look of destitution.

The American Legion Park was a simple one. A long strip of grass and line of trees between the road and the river. The bathhouse was less than exemplary, but I filled with water there and found a spot to put my tent. Rinsed off in the shower that spouted one single stream of ice-cold water. Rice and beans for dinner. The hot meal combined with the day's lingering heat made me sweat. Tonight the passing cars lull me to sleep.