We're taking a scheduled rest day in Kettle Falls, WA. We're in Grandview RV Park, just off of highway 395. It's a place we'd highly recommend. It's shady and quiet, great shower/restroom, and very friendly hosts. We rolled in yesterday afternoon and after getting set up, had a chance to sit in the shade, with a cool breeze, and read and catch up on some email.
While Dee engages in her favorite pastime, I thought I'd take some time to muse on the first week on the road and mention some things I've observed and learned. So, here it goes with a bit of a music theme.
The Sounds of Silence
A while back I realized that I might go nuts with nothing to listen to while I rode. I knew that having earbuds in would not be safe, so I began doing some research. I found some small speakers--about the size of earbuds, that fasten on the underside of one's helmet, just in front of the ears. They're called O-tus Mini Speakers. I ordered them, along with a Jabra Bluetooth connection so I could go wire-free--first mistake. In fairness to O-tus, they do mention that folks have had difficulty with Bluetooth, and I did. It kept cutting out. So, just before pedaling away from Bellingham I bought a speaker extension cord. Now my iPhone remains in my handlebar bag and the connecting wire runs to the back of my helmet. Problem solved? Well, mostly.
I love the O-tus speakers...when I'm riding on a really quiet stretch with no wind. Long, fast downhill stretches pretty much obliterate any sound from the speakers. Sometimes I can just hear a bit of the beat. Cranking uphill is usually better, and Janis Joplin, The Band, The Beatles, et al provide some needed inspiration.
Our friends at Libro-fm, an emerging digital audiobook company based in Seattle, very generously provided some audiobooks for my ride. Unfortunately, the volume and clarity of my speakers doesn't let me hear the narration well enough. My friend Pam also reminded me that music and speech are processed in different parts of the brain. Maybe riding and processing speech doesn't go so well for a guy who has trouble chewing gum and walking at the same time. Sorry guys, no book reports from my riding time. Maybe we'll get a chance to listen to them on the drive back from Illinois. We are excited about Libro-fm, however. If all goes well we should be selling their digital audiobooks through our website by fall. Stay tuned…so to speak.
The Long & Winding Road
As some of you know, I've done quite a few distance rides in the past--three STP's (Seattle to Portland, 204 miles in 2 days); three and a half RSVP's (Seattle to Vancouver, BC, 184 miles in 2 days); a couple of Chuckanut Centuries, a few Tour de Whatcoms; and the 70-mile uphill grind from Vancouver to Whistler, BC called Gran Fondo Whister.
However, I've never strung together more than two long days…until this week. My friend Pinky Nelson, who's ridden across the country a couple of times, told me that for him it got better every day. It certainly hasn't gotten worse for me, and I look forward to sharing Pinky's experience. You might say that in terms of long distance touring that I'm a tenderfoot, though I can assure you that it's not my foot that's tender right now. I can't imagine how sore I might be if it wasn't for two things: 1) my Body Float Isolation Seat Post, and 2) the thoughtful present from VB's Claire and her husband Chris--Chris's homemade "Wonder Cream."
There's a great video on the website for the Body Float that shows how the seat post isolates the bumps of the road. I certainly appreciate it when I hit a rough bump, but the real saving grace is how it renders mile upon mile of chip seal to nearly the feel of blacktop. I'm a believer.
Chris makes his "Wonder Cream" from shea butter and cocoa butter. As Claire pointed out in the accompanying card, "…if you don't like it for its intended use, you could always cook with it." I love it too much for its intended use to ever use it for cooking, but I must admit that the aroma of it sure beats any of the commercial "butt butter" I've ever used.
Stairway to Heaven
I've never really loved hills. Over time I've become less daunted by them, and some are even fun. The past week has given me plenty of time to get used to hills--actually mountains. Some folks who missed their geography class think that there's just one big pass between the West Coast and Illinois. I can't tell you how many people have asked "what about the Rockies?" as if that might be the only challenge between Bellingham and Galva. It's true, Logan Pass on the Going to the Sun Highway crosses the continental divide at 6,664 feet, but that climb will begin at about 3200 feet, for an elevation gain of about 3500 feet. The climb from Newhalem to the top of Washington Pass was about 4675 feet, so the longest climbs are behind me.
I'm starting to get in the groove, though I still feel that at times I should be going faster. Maybe I'll get over that before long.
Side of the Road
I haven't kept an exhaustive inventory of what I've seen along the shoulder as I've ridden these 300+ miles, but here's a bit of a list: bolts of every shape and size; miscellaneous small parts from cars and bikes; (does everything fall apart at the side of the road?); food packages of every description; chunks of wood, likely dropped from logging trucks; a few pieces of lumber; road kill; and every type of beverage container.
Seeing road kill reminded me of the character Skink in Carl Hiaasen's novels. He survives on road kill, though on this stretch of highway he might have remained a bit peckish. There were a couple of snakes, two rabbits (on one only one leg remained--not a very lucky rabbit's foot), and a handful of birds. I'm happy to say that the deer that loped across in front of me yesterday did not join this crushed menagerie--at least not on that crossing.
The beverage containers are of greater concern. There are many cans and plastic bottles, but it's the glass beer bottles that are troublesome. They're often smashed, right on the shoulder, and sometimes remain unseen until the bike has nearly run through the shards. I've so far managed to miss them, but I'll be lucky to get all the way without inadvertently running through the remains of someone's drunken spree.
I feel sorry in two ways for people who dispose of their empty bottles this way: 1) it's sad that they seem to feel that the only way to make their life better is to make someone else's life worse, and 2) they drink bad beer.
So much for this week's musings. Time to clean my chain, check my tires and get things ready for tomorrow's ride.
Oh, and here's a video that Lanny Little made of the send off last Monday: Lanny's Video
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