My dad's train ride to Portland was sorta disappointing. It was rough, noisy, and rattled a lot, so he didn't sleep well. It was about 95 degrees when he arrived, and he rode 7 miles to the Marriott hotel, where he planned to stay for the first night.
On Saturday, July 10th, he set out for his first day of riding. He completed 56 miles to Cascade Lodge. Along the way, he saw many tan, lean, and happy riders completing their ride from the east. He met a guy the day before who started in Ohio. He was on his way to Astoria, OR, and then to San Francisco. The wind was in my dad's favor and he was able to go 20 miles/hour without much pedaling.
The next day, he completed 63 miles to Deschutes River State Recreation Area. There, he stayed next to a group of 40 teens and their counselors with Outward Bound. They had just completed a 96-mile river excursion and were on their way into the wilderness for 2 weeks. My dad enjoyed staying there with the energy of these adventurous teens, and also because it was free (veterans stay free).
This was before the dog attack.
On Monday, he crossed into Washington with a good tailwind. He was enjoying the view of the river on the right at the top of a hill, moving at about 19 to 20 miles/hour, when 3 dogs started to chase him on his left. Bill accelerated, but felt a thump caused by one of the dogs in the rear. It pushed him into the gravel. He got back onto the shoulder and hustled skittishly down the other side of the hill at around 45 miles/hour. About 500 feet down the hill, he stopped and realized that his left rear pannier was missing. He had to go back up the hill with tremendous headwinds, so strong that he had to stop several times and wait for a couple minutes for the winds to subside. He met another rider who was close to finishing his cross-country trip along the way, and after an hour, they reached the top of the hill where my dad's bag was lying with a tear in it from one of the dog. The bag is no longer waterproof, so he ordered a patch kit, which will be waiting for him in Missoula. This time, there were two dogs at the top of the hill, but both my dad and the other cyclist were able to shoo them away. Luckily, they left the area uninjured.
On Day 4, Bill got a flat tire while completing a 42-mile day. He had a slow leak and was working hard despite the strong tailwind. That was how he figured out he had a hole. When patching the hole, he created another one, so the rear tube now has two patches in it. He kept dragging until the next day when he went to the bike shop to refill the tire with air. He ended the 5th day in Walawala, which is Washington's equivalent to Napa, with wineries everywhere.
On Day 6, he had about 2000-feet elevation gain over the course of 70 miles to get to Garfield Country Fairgrounds. The temperature was in the mid-80s and my dad was still dehydrated even after drinking 100 oz of fluid. The climbing was not a collection of gentle slopes like the map appeared to be, and he did a lot more climbing than 2000 feet because he was going both up and down the hills. There was a cop in a pickup who pulled up next to him, flashed his badge, and told him to move to the right. There was very little shoulder and my dad was as close to the right as he could get, going about 25 miles/hour. He had no idea how the cop thought he had room to move over, but luckily, the cop moved on, and my dad just figured the cop just didn't know how to share the road.
Friday, was Bill's rest day. He completed 35 miles, 5 of which were just tooling around Lewiston, Idaho, getting chores done. He bought new pedals because he still has foot pain. The guy at the shop said that he has mountain bike shoes, but road pedals. Hopefully, the $100-plus dollars he spent, relives the foot pain. He also has been having problems keeping the saddle parallel and had that taken care of too. His clothes are now clean and he is ready for another week.
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| Clearwater River Outside Lewiston, ID |
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| Notice how the river gets narrower and the trees get bigger. |
