Wednesday – Day 6 from Colville to Riley Creek was a heads-down day. I looked up once and saw some cows, which was nice. All kidding aside, the drivers east of Colville were the most considerate and respectful of the trip so far. It was more hill at the beginning of the day than we had bargained for, but after that it was a pleasant pace along the Pend Oreille River with rolling hills. We had a nice lunch that consisted of two solid burgers for ten total dollars in the tiny mill town of Usk; our four Gatorades were more expensive than the burgers by a dollar. I ended up riding 80 miles, then mom and I switched off as is now our custom and I drove the trailer the last 20 miles into camp. We were met there by my dad’s most entertaining, longtime quartet member, Tom. You guessed it, the baritone. We had a nice catch-up with Tom and his wife Judy, and at one point a ghost dog licked Tom’s leg. You’ll have to ask Tom what it feels like to be licked by a ghost dog; none of the rest of us could commune with it though we tried.
Thursday – Day 7 – The morning was a nice ride, 50 or so miles along the Pend Oreille River and Lake Pend Oreille. The lake came in to view as a gigantic body of water backed by the 8,738 foot Cabinet Mountains. Though not a particularly difficult ride, you could tell we were both feeling it in our legs. We passed a really cool rusted old car collection east of Clark Fork along highway ID-200 in a rock quarry. Mother bemoaned that we didn’t stop and take a picture, since it was not your usual auto junkyard, and she couldn’t stop the 50 ft truck/trailer on that stretch of road. So this definitely isn’t a link to the coordinates, (https://goo.gl/maps/xru7rn92mV8mf9eM7). If anyone’s interested in snapping a better picture, I think it’s called Overman’s Western Stone. After we turned up highway ID-56, we were met almost immediately by a friendly face and, more importantly, fresh legs. Steve Knox gave us the energy we needed for that last 20 miles, and wisely told us it was a pretty steady uphill, though it turned out to be mostly flat. It always feels steeper coming down for some reason. We stayed up later than we should catching up by the campfire, and feasted on flank steak, pesto pasta, salad, and ice cream provided by our unwavering pit crew. Oh, and dad found a Volcom baseball cap, but after I told him it was a skater brand, it seemed to rub him the wrong way, and he ditched it on a bench where we stopped for lunch.
Friday – Day 8, a day of rest for me. At this point, I think the odometer is reading 503 miles total for my dad, which put me at about 440 miles. A good day by my count: helped pack up the truck; several rounds of puppy (Peach) training; a latte, laundry, groceries; and a nice car ride with my wife and our sleeping 11-week-old Peach.
Bad Medicine Campground 
Saturday – Day 9, back on the saddle. I admit that after that many days of riding my legs are feeling stronger, but I spent almost this whole day feeling literally refreshed. We rode from Eureka to Whitefish (Columbia Falls). The morning and evening locations would have a hard time being less similar. While both in Montana, Eureka was 1.5 miles from the currently closed border with Canada. It felt like a southern vacation spot for Canadian horse people. Lots of ranches, not much of a town to speak of, very rural. I got the sense it’s the ‘plow your own gravel road to get out of your house in the winter’ kind of place. Our local camp host made a point to remind us several times that he ‘carries’ all the time, for the critters. I tried to press him on critters, but got nowhere and decided to stop while I felt ahead. 80 miles later we entered Whitefish and the moment we hit the edge of town, you could feel the tourism, nice homes, infrastructure, and frankly, money. If you had told me we were actually entering Bend or Boulder, I would have said “yup, where does the brewery crawl start?”. Lauren had scouted us a pizza place and boy did that deliver [:)]. We did some more puppy training, plenty of positing on the next day’s ride over the Continental Divide, and tried to go to bed a little earlier for a change.
Sunday – Day 10, converging and diverging rivers. My legs certainly weren’t as fresh as day 9, but I was still feeling far better than day 7. We started up our last real hill before uh, Maine? I don’t know, I won’t be there cause I’m not that crazy. Not long in we spotted a lanky, as my dad would call him “6-percenter”. That would be a Kevin Pitts-ism for a person with less than 6% body fat. He was loafing along, probably saw us, and let us catch him. His name was Marshall and he was out to enjoy, as he called it, his classic ride. He had previously lived in Whitefish for a spell and was back visiting family. We proceeded to play a cycling version of tortoise and the hare for maybe ten miles. We’d putt along at our 14 mph and he’d take off at something over 20. Then down the road, we’d catch him at the spot he knows he can fill his water bottle along the route, or a picturesque bridge of the Flathead River convergence. We talked a bit about the route. He was also heading to the pass and also being picked up by his pit crew, which was all dad needed to know in order to recommend putting a ring on the girlfriend. We saw him once more as he caught us trotting along and literally pushed and pulled us at 20 mph for several miles. It was by chance that we were on that road with Marshall. We had debated staying on Highway 2 which was shorter and less elevation change by a little. It turned out to be a great decision vindicated by a local. The rest of the ride was spent mostly on Highway 2. It was not too steep an incline which was very much appreciated by all. We made it to our camp (Glacier Meadows RV Park) right after Lauren and Peach arrived, had a good lunch , and continued on our way to get Steve to the East Glacier Amtrak station.
Cycling with Kevin & Suzi 