Day 14: July 5 White Bird to Syringa 60 miles

Sunday, 7/5/81
Syringa, ID campground

Climbed infamous White Bird Hill this morning. 10 miles of switchbacks. Thank God it was overcast. Took from 7:00 to 9:30. Flat Camas Prairie on top. We had burgers at Grangeville A&W and watched part of their "Border Days" parade. Steep five  miles downhill to the Clearwater River. (Ran out of film and didn't take any pictures.) River grade down to Kooskia [pronouced "Kooska".] where we bought two days of groceries. We're heading up another fork of the Clearwater into the Lochsa Wilderness, 120 miles or so with no services.

White Bird Hill is most remarkable and a lot of fun to climb. They’ve built a new highway with a 7% grade straight up the hills on the left, but no cyclist takes it going up or down.
 
It rained a bit that evening, so I shared Rick’s tent rather than set up my own.

Looking up White Bird Hill (postcard).

Looking down White Bird Hill.

Horses along Clearwater River.

Lochsa River.

Lochsa River rafters.

Day 13: July 4 Evergreen Campground to White Bird 75 miles

Saturday, 7/4/81
White Bird, ID
Independence Day

Entrance to the Little Salmon River Canyon.

Little Salmon River Canyon.

Passed through beautiful New Meadows, Idaho this morning. 30 below and six feet of snow in the winter. Rode down beautiful green Little Salmon River in the morning. Stopped for lunch in Riggins, where it meets the Salmon River. Hot and dry. Sewed sleeping bag. 30 miles further down beautiful Salmon River canyon in 105° temp to White Bird. Rick got more flats and didn't gert in till 9:30. New bridge is really impressive. Stayed hot all night.

 

The hottest weather I had ever experienced and I there I was riding a loaded bicycle in it. I stopped at a rest area where some people were serving coffee & cookies & lemonade for free. The fact that the town behind us was having porcupine races as a part of their 4^th of July celebration got them talking on the subject of porcupines. They told me some very amusing stories but I have no memory of them now.

It never cooled off below 80° that night, but the air was dry so it was livable. 

Barn along the way.

Salmon River (not Little Salmon).

Salmon River in 105 degree temps.

Beating the heat.

White Bird Bridge.

 

Day 12: July 3 Hell's Canyon to Evergreen Campground 75 miles

Friday, 7/3/81
Evergreen Forest Service campground

Crossed into Idaho today at Brownlee Dam, Hell's Canyon. New time zone, too. Long climb out of cabyin was offset by fcool morning temperatures.

Lunch at Cambridge, ID with Bret, Jack and Rick. Bret and Jack are from Michigan, flew to Portland to ride to Yorktown. Rick is riding from San Francisco to Boston.

Temps reached mid-90s today! Too hot for any fun. Same terrrain as yesterday. Dry hills, rivers with trees at higher altitude. Biked 75 miles. Camped at Evergreen Forest Service campground.
 

Oxbow Bend, Hell's Canyon.

Brownlee Resevoir.

Roadside flowers.

Brownlee Resevoir.




Steam engine in Council, Idaho.



Day 11: July 2 Baker City to Hell's Canyon 70 miles

Thursday, 7/2/81
Hell's Canyon campground

I'm at the bottom of Hell's Canyon! Biked 70 miles from Baker today. I'll start early so I can climb out while it's cool. It's only 4:30! The reason I made such good time is it was downhill almost all the way. Except for one hot, long, steep five-mile stretch after lunch.

Two of my fellow travelers have caught up with me. I'm not as fast as I thought.

Baker City & Blue Mountains.

Oregon Trail monument.

The two other riders who joined me were Jack, 63, and Bret, 34. They belonged to a bicycle club in Michigan. They had flown to Portland with their bikes so they could ride the TransAmerica Trail (It's just a route--not really a trail.) to its end in Yorktown, Virginia. (It starts at Astoria, Oregon.)

Rick, 19, joined us too that evening. He had ridden up the coast from San Francisco, across the trail and, upon reaching Virginia, planned to ride up the east coast to Boston. Quite an undertaking! I never met anyone who knew maps like Rick. People from anywhere in the country would tell him their hometown and he knew it, the towns around it, and the highways approaching it. The only town that stumped him was Clifton, Kansas, He knew how the streets were numbered in Seattle and he had only been there once, as a child.

From here on, the four of us rode together, more or less, all the way to Denver.

Due to the canyon walls, the sun set at about 6 PM.

Day 10: July 1 John Day to Baker City 80 miles

Ghost town of Whitney, Blue Mountains, OR.

Wednesday, 7/1/81
Baker City, OR

Crossed the Blue Mountains today. Also picked up a letter drop from my girlfriend in Prairie City. She sent route books for the next section of the trail. Crossed three passes in the Blue Mountains today. Only the first one was bad. The last 30 miles into Baker was all headwinds, though. Exhausted me. Camped at YMCA for 50¢. I'm leaving my friends Rudy, Pauline, and Joe behind tomorrow. They won't follow my tight schedule.

I rode two days with Joe, Pauline, and Rudy, all novices (they started in Prineville) from LA. Sadly, we split the next morning ‘cause they had to wait for a bike shop to open. We exchanged addresses.

Strawberry Mountain Range.

Day 9: June 30 Mitchell to John Day 71 miles

Sheep Rock, John Day Fossil Beds National Monument.

Tuesday, 6/30/81
John Day, OR trailer park

One of the men last night was 71 and one was 76. He'd done the trail going west last summer. An inspiration to us all.

We all headed up the hill between 6:30 and 7:00 this morning. The rest gave me boundless energy. I was over the top first for the 25-mile downhill. At the bottom was the beautiful Painted Gorge and the John Day Fossil Beds. I took a two-mile detour to view the fossils at the visitor's center, so ended up behind everyone else. We all gathered again for an early lunch in Dayville. And grouped within three miles for a liesurely, if hot, ride into John Day. We're all staying at a trailer park. $1.25 for a tent site and showers!

Picture Gorge, John Day Fossil Beds.

I was the only one who visited the John Day Fossil Beds that day, because it required a two-mile side trip. Crazy people! They missed seeing a Mesohippus skeleton. Seriously, when riding cross-country, it is very hard to leave your route to ride any distance. Your energy has to go toward moving yourself on down the road.

I don't recall if that exclamation mark is because the tent site & showers were so expensive at $1.25 or so cheap.

Picture Gorge.

Picture Gorge.

 

Day 8: June 29 Prineville to Mitchell 47 miles

Monday, 6/29/81
Mitchell, OR

After fighting the sprinklers last night (with two other bikers) I climbed a gentle 2,000 feet to Ochocco Summit. The ride down the other side was very long and it grew hotter by the mile. (I had lunch at the summit.) I stopped in Mitchell with some bikers because the description said no water till John Day, 70 miles away. We're all taking the day off and climbing the eight miles in the morning. We're having a great time--nine boys, one girl--trading biking tales. Only 50 miles today!

Black Butte.

Abandoned chimney, Ochoco Summit Road.

When I stopped at the park there in Mitchell, I joined two other bikers who were debating what to do. Two more came in behind me and in one hour, we had ten cyclists there, all trying to talk each other into not going further. It worked. Only two brave souls ventured forth. (As it turned out, those two brave souls were Bret and Jack, the two guys I ended up riding with all the way to Denver! That story develops...) The rest of us stayed and had a party of sorts. We wrote postcards and told cycling stories and cycling jokes and cycling lies. Someone bought a watermelon, which quickly disappeared. All in all, it was the most sociable time I had the entire trip.

Folks at Michell, waiting for morning.

Two of the bicyclists there, by the way, were in their 70s. Scotty, 76 years old, had traveled the TransAmerica Trail in 1980 going east to west. This year, he brought along a friend of his who was 73 years old and they were going west to east. They traveled slow, ate at restaurants, and stayed in motels and hostels. 
 

I’m only 58 now, so I guess there’s still time for me to relive my youth! Bret is doing it!

Guy at Mitchell.