Day 6 Okanogan to Winthrop: Into the Cascades

I woke up on day six at the Quality Inn in Okanogan happy to be starting five miles ahead of schedule, but had some punches to roll with: the lithium battery wasn't plugged in, so we were going to have to charge it as much as we could that morning and wait for my mom to deliver it en route. Dr. B lost his tiny but very masculine wallet (found under the seat of the van). Jimmy broke the valve for his tire tube while trying to pump it up. Good thing we had those five miles in the bank!

We finally started rolling through beautiful orchards, ascending into the Okanogan National Forest. The temperature was in the low 70s, and we think it might have rained a bit the night before clearing away some of the smoke. My cycling team are a trio of endurance junkies who really enjoyed the climbing.  We added a male Western Tanager (piranga ludoviciana) to the list of birds seen on the trip.

We ascended into the pines, Chauncey and I feeling more at home among the towering trees than in the yellow fields. Patches of fireweed (chamaenerion angustifolium) dotted the road, which Jimmy took special delight in because that happens to be his Spirit Flower. We were lucky to catch them before their bloom was done!

The lead battery performed very well, climbing eleven miles and 2200ft up before it ran out. We stopped for a quick break near a cattle guard, which Dr. B promptly peed on. My mom was only a few minutes away with the (mostly) charged lithium battery, and the team went into pit-crew mode loading it on my chair and plugging me in. Freshly powered, we hauled ass the remaining few miles to the summit.

Since we didn't have a sponsor for the day, it was rider's choice for shirts. Jimmy wore his coveted tri-blend technical shirt, Chauncey wore thin merino wool, and Dr. B wore the remains of the original umbrella from the 2016 ride as a cape. It would flap behind him in a very superhero-like manner as we flew down the hill. We are quite the spectacle; I wonder what the people passing us in cars made of us.

It got a little spooky the farther down we went, past charred trees from a recent fire. The smoke grew heavier as we plummeted into the valley. We were all filled with a sense of foreboding, wondering what was in store for us in Twisp. It's really strange how the fire would devastate so much, but leave little surviving patches here and there.

Twisp looked like a war zone. Giant trucks and machines scattered everywhere, coming back from or heading into the fire. We met up with my grandparents for lunch, then returned to the smokey journey, unsure if we would be able to make it to Winthrop or if we would get turned back by officials (or worse, flames!). But car traffic was moving, therefore so were we. Onward!

The sky turned to an eery and ominous orange-grey. Were we riding into the fire? Perhaps, but the team felt ok and there's a really good brewery in Winthrop. Adding to the challenge was a busy road with no shoulder. I just kept thinking about how overcoming obstacles makes beer taste even better. That, and staying on the white line.

We had a little bit of respite on a mile-long side road that followed the beautiful Methow River. The skies lightened, as did our spirits. We were so close! An Osprey (pandion haliaetus) flew over us with a fish in it's beak.

We pulled into the western-themed town of Winthrop with ash snowing down on us and went straight to the Old Schoolhouse Brewery. The day was done, but not our hiccups: the door to the van got stuck and wouldn't close. Fortunately, Jimmy was able to fix it by hitting it with a bike lock. Thanks, Jimmy! I was finally able to enjoy my flight of beer after a long, stressful, but fun day.

Before I sign off, I really want to give a shout-out to my good friend and crew member Ben, who has been a HUGE help. He's not just schlepping our stuff around in the Uhaul - he's on the road checking up on us and on the conditions ahead, tending to vehicular maintenance, running all of our errands to meet the needs (and wants) of myself and the rest of the crew. It is no hyperbole to say we could not be doing this without him - we are all so lucky he offered his help. Thank you, Ben!

We're all settled in to our rustic cabins now, about to get some much needed rest. We have an even bigger climb tomorrow, which should be fun for the cyclists. I can't wait to see what the new day will bring!

Day 5 Whitmore Lookout to Okanogan: Cattle Guards and Cedar Planks

According to Woody Guthrie, the world’s “greatest wonder is in Uncle Sam’s fair land, it’s that King Columbia River and the big Grand Coulee Dam,” the latter of which we passed on our way to the day’s start point, the former of which we rolled alongside for a little while at the beginning. People began building that behemoth dam in 1933, and 9 years later the final concrete was poured. At peak flow, the dam is the largest power generator in the United States.  

From Whitmore Lookout, we rolled west along the river for a little while, alongside the tall mullein stalks and the Conyza spotting the roadside before the expanses of sagebrush. The smoke was as thick as it has been on this trip. On the plus side, there was barely any traffic on Columbia River Road (BIA Route 140) through the Colville Indian Reservation, which we spent the majority of the day in. For the first few miles, nobody passed us going in our direction. Only a few passed going the other way. Before long, we turned northwestward away from the Columbia toward Omak Lake. We passed small wetlands and tule rimmed ponds along the way, enjoying the waterfowl and the dragonflies moving about. We were able to ride quite freely on the roadway and to converse with ease. Chauncey would shout out “Car Back!” whenever a car appeared behind us, and we’d all fall into a line along the road side. Jimmy, who ran the first 16 miles, didn’t speak much while his hearing aids were off. He can’t wear them when he sweats, and the day’s heat steadily built. We transitioned from relatively smooth asphalt to a fresh, pitch black chip seal that provided a different feel beneath our tires (and running shoes). It made things feel hotter. Dr. B began spraying me regularly at this point. He would generously spare some water on Jimmy, who was sweating copiously at this point. Right around then, we noticed clusters of wild horses running about. Before long, we moved in over the clear blue waters of Omak Lake.

While we were rolling alongside the lake, my mom appeared with our friend Lena Lemke in tow. She used to live next door to us in Port Angeles, and she has since moved to central Washington. Food and liquid reinforcements had arrived! We replenished ourselves. After 16 miles, Jimmy jumped onto his bike. At this point, we had gained about 1000 feet, and there was another 1000 feet of elevation gain ahead of us. Lena and my mom leapfrogged ahead of us. We cruised ponderosa dotted slopes down to low gullies filled with elderberries. We continued to thoroughly enjoy the sparsely used road and the ability to ride more freely. 

At mile 25, we ran into our first major road impediment of the trip: a burly cattle guard that I could not cross without the smaller wheels of my chair being swallowed by gaping chasms. I almost thought about cheating and going into the SAG van to get over the cattle guard, but as it happened Lena had cedar boards on the back of her truck that, once appropriately set up on the guard, I was able to drive over. Those cedar planks enabled me to cross over that section that otherwise would have been insurmountable. Thank you, Lena!

About three miles on, we encountered another cattle guard. This time, despite having the cedar planks on hand, we decided to attempt going around the guard on the roadside. I quickly got my chair stuck in soft sandy gravel. Jimmy and Dr. B pulled me out of that one, but a mere 6 feet from there, on the other side of the cattle guard, I really got bogged down in some soft sand and gravel. Fortunately, I’ve got a lot of muscle with me, and Chauncey, Dr. B and Jimmy all worked hard to get me out of that quagmire. If it wasn’t for them, right now I would be a shriveled, dried up piece of meat being feasted upon by turkey vultures. My heartfelt thanks to the crew.

Throughout all of my journeys, many things rock me all around: potholes, cracks in asphalt, uneven concrete, rocks and other objects on the roads and paths, attempts to go over or around cattle guards, etc. I’d like to extend a special thanks to BodyPoint, our sponsor of the day, for the straps that they manufactured that keep me solidly in my chair. They have been very supportive, in multiple ways, of Ian’s Ride 2018. Thank you, BodyPoint!   

Onward we went through the pretty country of north-central Washington. We passed some more native sunflowers, which appear to be Dr. B’s spirit flower, given the level of interest and passion that he directs toward them.

After about 31.5 miles, we arrived in the town of Okanogan. We went through charming neighborhoods. A diverse vegetable garden grabbed our attention. We moved through downtown, and decided to add 5 miles to the day’s journey to get a little ahead. We are now coming into the North Cascades, and the next 2 days have high elevation gains. Tomorrow we climb more than 4000 feet, so we whittled away at that with some additional miles today. Julie Martin, a local who found out about our efforts through social media, provided a cheer along the way. We all really appreciate the supportive waves, honks and cheers that we get from many people as we work our way along. We started up state route 20, which will lead us through the entirety of the Cascades. In a few days, after another 120 miles, we will be meeting Russell in Marblemount.

After we settled in the Quality Inn of Okanogan at the conclusion of the day’s ride, we enjoyed some beer that Lena generously provided, and enjoyed visiting with her. My mom appreciated Lena’s SAG companionship. We had a fine Mexican dinner at the very hospitable Rancho Chico Family Mexican Restaurant in Omak. 

Now, we prepare for venturing into the Cascades.  

Day 4 Hesseltine to Whitmore Lookout: Hot Dam

After arriving at our starting point, we took a few quick photos and headed out on the road.  We knew the day would be long, hot, and smokey so we tried to start as early as possible.  Our ride began much like yesterday’s ended, long straight roads cutting  through wheat fields.  We had seen just about enough wheat for one lifetime and were on the verge declaring a gluten free lifestyle when slowly the terrain began to change.  

Before the change in scenery began we had a moment that I won’t soon forget.  While riding along HWY 174 we were passed by a semi truck which came within less than a foot form me.  I had to stop and gather myself and nerves before I could continue.  This moment reminded me why I am doing this, and what I am advocating for.  I don’t want to blame the truck driver for this, although my crew feels different.  There was on coming traffic and the truck was unable to move away from us and go into the other lane.  This is something that can and will happen.   If highway shoulders are not wide enough to accommodate the size of my chair,  I will be put into situations like this again.    

Once I was ready to continue on, we began a long descent into Grand Coulee, the wheat fields gave way to pine trees and beautiful hillsides embedded with rock formations.  We all welcomed the change.  The air became a little cooler (for a while at least).  Just before making a right turn onto HWY 155 at mile twelve, Jimmy put his running shoes away and got on his bike.  Shortly after joining HWY 155 we rode past the Grand Coulee Dam.  I’m not sure what I expected, but the magnitude of the Dam was impressive to say the least.

After passing the Dam we had to cross a narrow bridge, before following the Columbia River for almost the remainder of the day.  We were a little nervous about crossing the bridge, but we got some help from my mom in the support van.  She got behind us, turned on her blinkers, and made sure nobody messed with us.  Once across the bridge, we stopped and started to prep me for the heat we were about to face.   My Glacier Tek ice vest was put to use for the first time on the trip, and we made sure the spray bottle was full and ready to use.  

Once I was prepped to manage the heat we headed back out.  We found ourselves riding along a quiet road following the river.  This may have been the favorite part of today’s route for all of us.  The real heat hadn’t kicked in yet, there were very few cars, and the scenery was great.  This road also provided us a chance to talk to one another, which is usually difficult on highways and busy roads in general.  This little oasis didn’t last nearly long enough.  We were back on the highway after a few miles.

It seemed as if the temperature increased dramatically just as we got back on the highway.  Dr. B. started to increase the frequency of spraying me down, although he would have to ramp this up even more as the temperature approached 96 degrees Fahrenheit.  At one point along the road Jimmy was requesting to be sprayed as well, and I had to remind Jimmy that the name of the ride is Iansride, not Jimmysride.

Increasing the difficulty of riding on the noisy, hot highway was an odd feature of the highway I never encountered before.  Between the road and shoulder was was a narrow gap filled with tar.  The heat of the day made the tar soft and sticky.  Every time my left wheel would come in contact with the tar it slowed me and pulled me toward the highway.  I was constantly working to keep my chair straight, which was challenging.  I’m here writing the blog, so I can say I beat the highway.  #winning.

Relief from the highway came eventually as we turned onto a road that brought us back to the river at water level.  If it weren’t for the heat and smoke, we would have enjoyed the road and scenery more.  As it was, we could still appreciate what we were experiencing.  Other than the beauty of the river, there were very interesting rock formations for the final ten miles.  As an avid birder I am always looking and listening for birds.  This trip has allowed me to hone my skills.  We saw cormorants, red tailed hawks, and heard many sage grouse, but saw only one. 

Toward the end of the today’s ride I was feeling light headed and felt as if I may pass out.  When my body temperature gets too high, my blood pressure drops, and I feel light headed.  At one point I pulled off the road to tilt my chair to help with this.  For the last few miles we were very careful to increase the frequency of being sprayed.  And yes, Jimmy got sprayed more too.  We reached our destination to find a man named Joaquin who wanted to ask us some question about our journey, welcome us, and wish us well.  It was a very pleasant way to end our day, which was beginning to wear on us.

After our conversation, we hopped in the air-conditioned van, then headed back to Wilbur (near our starting point) where our hotel is.  Driving back to the hotel put in perspective the distances I am able to travel in my chair.  I sometimes impress myself.  Today’s route was 40.6 miles, thirty of which were powered by my new lithium battery.  This marks my longest single day ever.  

Back in Wilbur we went for dinner and drinks at The Alibi to celebrate the completion of another day.  While there some of the locals gave us a cash donation.  It’s those moments that mean so much to me.  The support we receive has been overwhelming.  People that meet me, get what we are trying to do.  The more people I can meet, the more people will get behind our cause.

I’d like to make a point before signing off that I dedicated today to one of my sponsors, Nelson Boyd Attorneys.  They have been behind us from the beginning, back when Iansride 2016 was just a crazy idea in my head.  They helped convince me this ride, this idea, is bigger than me.  They convinced me and helped me turn this into what we have now.  They are board members of my non profit.  I am so proud to call them friends.  they have done so much for me and my cause.  Today was a day I set aside to thank them and acknowledge their efforts.   

Day 3 Davenport to Hesseltine: Amber Waves of Grain

"Exercise? I thought you said extra fries!"

Chauncey (Josh S) laughed far too hard and suggested the phrase on a billboard outside a burger joint in Davenport should be the title of today's blog. He thinks he's soooo funny. This is why we don't let him near the computer.

Day three greeted us with more smoke in the air. The team debated whether conditions had improved from the day before or if we were just getting acclimated. My plan is to be like the frog in hot water - if the increase in temperature, as well as in this case smoke, is gradual enough the frog won't notice. "That's not true, you know," said Jimmy, perhaps a little disappointed in my analogy. "Eventually the frog is going to be like, 'enough of this,' and will get out. Assuming you've provided the frog with the means of escape." "Hmm, maybe that's what went wrong with my experiments..." I joked. Nobody laughed. I blame Chauncey, his terrible humor must be contagious. 

We gathered our things and left the airbnb, the cycling team proudly wearing their new Iron Goat t-shirts. It was nice to have the same home base for three nights, but it's time to move on. We settled into the routine from the 2016 trip: the team scrambles to get everything together, I do a bunch of interviews, and then goodbyes and well-wishes from those seeing us off. This time at the starting line we were greeted by Jeannie and Skip Salvini, the parents of my good friend Kenny (KennySalvini.com). I've said it before and I'll say it again: this trip wouldn't be possible without the support of so many friends and family. 

We rolled through golden fields of wheat, Chauncey singing "amber waves of grain" every once in a while. He promised to sing the next line when we got to the purple mountains. We had mixed feelings about this. It was quite bucolic, and the traffic on hwy 2 wasn't too busy. The drivers were all very friendly and encouraging, something I've grown to expect on this trip. At a stop on a small side road, a man got out of his truck and walked towards us. "I saw you guys on the news last night, I hoped I would see you today." He said that he had lost sons to Muscular Dystrophy, and was familiar to the challenges of the wheelchair life. He emotionally wished us well, and we were all humbled by the fact that what we are doing is so much bigger than us.

Almost abruptly, the farms disappeared and the terrain turned rocky, with sage brush dotting the landscape. The trees way off in the hazy distance almost looked like the skyscrapers of a bustling metropolis. Little marshy ponds offered some excellent birding opportunities, but we had no time to stop. We need to finish the day before the sun gets too low and starts blinding us as we head west.

Jimmy, lying down on the job

We ate a quick lunch at an abandoned antique mall. This part of the country is a little unfamiliar with different dietary practices, and the restaurant insisted that Dr. B, a vegan, would want cheese and mayo on his sandwich. Jimmy, who tries to keep his dairy intake low, also had cheese issues. Chauncey ate all the cheese because he grew up in Wisconsin.

Back on the road, the heat was starting to rev up to what we were expecting on this trip. I am unable to sweat, so the team started the misting regimen which basically consisted of spraying me with a squirt bottle every chance they got. The sun dried off my soaked shirt between mist applications as the landscape turned back to farmland, this time less golden and more brown.

We made it to Hesseltine Rd in great time and good spirits, with another 23 miles on the new Lithium battery. Again there was power remaining, so I'm feeling more confident about getting up and over the cascades (although I'm not looking forward to hearing Chauncey sing "purple mountain majesty" like a broken record). The people in the town of Wilbur are incredibly nice and accommodating (the cheese thing aside), exemplified by the greeting we got from the hotel:

There isn't a brewery in this area, so we ate at a diner and then repaired back to our rooms and dug into the cooler for a few cans of deliciousness. Don't get me wrong, I want to make an impact and advocate change in how we think about mobility, but sitting here with good friends cracking jokes between sips after a long ride, this is what life is about.

We are over 100 miles into our trip, yet there are many challenges that remain. There's a big fire near the Coulee Dam that could affect our route on Day 4. Stay tuned, and keep on rollin!

Day 2 Spokane to Davenport: Or Rather, Smoke-ane to Davenport

A very smoky dawn broke on my 650th consecutive day with a trail/road ride. Upon first seeing the haze, the coastal dwellers among us wishfully thought it was fog. The smoke seared at our nostrils as soon as we went outdoors. Visibility was highly limited, and that remained the case throughout the day.

After getting up and about on the early side, Ariana of KXLY interviewed me while the crew prepared for the day’s excursion. At the conclusion of a thoughtful and inquisitive interview, we all loaded up and drove to where the ride left off yesterday. Todd and Karen met us at the day’s start point, and Todd graciously accepted an interview with Ariana. 

Nan, a kind woman who we met along the trail the day before, showed up with her two grandkids to cheer us on at the outset. Ben Boyd joined us at the start and rode with us for the first 10 miles before generously returning to his logistically supportive duties to this venture. He has been schlepping people,  gear and bikes around since we began yesterday. Todd rode with us for the first mile or so, and that mile turned out to be the only part of the day that we were on a trail, except for a very short stretch shortly thereafter. We fast found ourselves on busy roads while Ariana and the cameraman leapfrogged us for a while, catching footage of our progress. 

We worked our way up a steady incline as we left the Spokane area and ventured toward a high plateau. We gradually left wooded slopes and moved into barley and wheat covered undulating fields that stretched as far as our eyes could see. The smoke restricted our views of distant highlands. The mid-August sun inevitably grew strong despite the constricting haze that blanketed the sky.

Because we can’t tell what kind of road surfaces are at play from maps, we ended up on a quiet washboard gravel road for a couple of miles. My wheelchair groaned and clanged as I attempted to weave it onto the smoothest strips of the road. This only lasted for a couple of miles before we again rode on asphalt. A large military plane lumbered over us as we approached the Fairchild Air Force Base on a side road by the name of Rambo before turning onto US-2. At this point, Jimmy stopped running at 13 miles and began biking. 

The entrance to the base was choked with traffic as big rigs and other vehicles relentlessly and closely passed us. For the rest of the day, we rode along the US-2, but for a brief detour onto the old, dilapidated Sunset Highway. This navigational attempt to get us away from the heavy traffic of the main highway led us to a cracked, bumpy, neglected roadway that we could not tolerate for long. But the brief spell on this tortured asphalt paid off as we came across a great horned owl who flew in front of us, then rested on a branch in full view. At the same time, a pileated woodpecker flew by, enlightening the birdwatchers in us.

Back on US-2, there were two times that my crew had to block off traffic to get through sections that had absolutely no shoulder. Both times, the drivers who were delayed by our actions were extremely considerate, and we were not placed in any unmanageable circumstances. It was nevertheless stressful for all of us.

As we continued along the wheat fields filled with the songs and flights of western meadowlarks, my lithium battery performed even better than it did yesterday. I got 23 miles out of it today, as opposed to 20 miles yesterday, with far more elevation gain: 1525 feet today versus 615 feet yesterday.

After arriving at our destination of the town of Davenport, our thirsty selves headed straight for Iron Goat Brewing Company. We were delighted by their beers, and I was given a brief tour of their barrel works. Greg, the head brewer and owner, was a generous host who provided a special tasting of some of their barrel aged efforts. We appreciate Iron Goat’s brewing flair, their range and quality of styles, and their magnanimity in hosting such an eclectic but eccentric group. Hats off to Iron Goat, keep up the good brewing work. This was a fine conclusion to a wonderful day 2.