Diablo Lake to Mazama
(Snow, rain, hail, mountain passes)
I managed to climb Rainy Pass and then Washington Pass today—without BOB, granted, but still a feat for me. I had to stop often to rest, and I pushed the bike up some of the steep parts. Bill Upton and I were riding together on Rainy Pass. Not only did it rain on us, but it hailed on us too—pea-sized hail which only had us laughing at our luck, or lack of it! Most of the time my speed was no greater than 5 or 6 mph, so it took a looooong exhausting time—over 7 hours—to reach the summit. The ever present waterfalls and wildflowers did much to divert my attention away from the grinding climb, however, and every time I stopped, I’d snap another photo—or use snapping a photo as an excuse to stop. Bill Upton, who had done no training and who had had bypass surgery 17 years before, was walking a good deal, and he was counting his steps. He’d push his loaded bike uphill for 50 steps and then rest; then push uphill another 50 steps and rest—slow going but going nonetheless. Very often I'd be walking with him.
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| Looking down and back at Diablo Lake and our Colonial Creek CG at the beginning of the day's ride |
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| Seattle City Lights' Diablo Dam in the distance. It created Diablo Lake/Reservoir |
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| Tim, Diane, Rick pose at one of the many waterfalls; Diane had stopped and executed a "star jump" for her website |
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| This view was behind us, which, of course, meant stopping to rest and click a pic |
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| Diane climbing out of our campground |
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| The photo does not really show how enormous these unmowed and greatly watered dandilions had grown |
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| Rainy Pass living up to its name: Bill holding my bicycle while I capture him in his flimsy poncho in the rain and hail |
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| One pass down, one to go |
After our 32-mile climb up Washington Pass, we collected our gear which our campmates had so generously left behind a barrier. They'd stopped on the way down to tell us where they'd stashed the gear and to tell us that they could not hike because of the deep snow at the summit.
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| Joe and Denise and Joe's sister. Diane is doing a semi star jump with them; notice that they are wearing cold weather vests and jackets while we are hotly climbing in sleeveless jerseys |
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| Grey Jay cadging snacks at Washington Pass summit |
After re-attaching our BOBs we had a 20-some mile downhill, the first miles steep, twisty, and to our right the edge of the mountain. Bill Hickman, wary of the sheer drop-off, rode against traffic on the left side of the road. My BOB is way overloaded and unstable and so is Kevin's. We have to descend carefully. I stopped twice to cool my rims. A big truck passed and its draft caused me to shimmy and dance with BOB dragging me around, but I managed to get stopped and stable. Of course after so much climbing I loved the descending. I sang to myself: “Oh yes, I’m the great descender. . .” to the tune of the Platters’ "Great Pretender." Here are the lyrics that I fitted out after I got home:
Oh yes, I'm the great descender
Descending I'm doing so well;
My speed is such; I descend in a rush
It scares me, but no one can tell.
Oh yes I'm the great descender,
Just cycling and speeding downhill
I pretend to be a racer you see; Hell
I'm wearing my brakes half way down
Descending from mountain to town.
The area is breathtakingly beautiful with snow-capped mountains, snow along the road, waterfalls, tall green forests, moss, and roadside flowers. We threw snowballs, and Diane made a snow angel. I am enjoying the cool.
We were scheduled to camp in Early Winters CG in the Methow Valley on the other side of the pass, but it looked sad and fly-filled, so we hung a left into Mazama to find the Mazama Country Inn, a small motel in the woods that is busy with cross-country skiers and hunters in the winter, but in summertime puts up strays such as we.
Tim and Diane and I shared a room, something I am loathe to do. I'd rather camp, put up my little Hubba Hubba tent, and have some privacy; but I bowed for the greater good. Tim is riding on a shoestring and cannot afford a single room. Splitting the room three ways makes it more akin to a campsite fee. Kevin and Bill H were already at the Inn drinking beers in the shade when we arrived. I guess they assumed that the rest of us would camp at the planned locale, so had not phoned to tell us where they were. They were very surprised to see us.
Here we did our first laundry. For some reason, Bill and Kevin insisted that I add my laundry to theirs—the result being gray underwear and snagged bike shorts. If they were looking for lacy undergarments, they must have been disappointed. Of course the men threw everything in together and did not close the Velcro on their gloves. Oh well, I’ll probably throw or replace all my clothes before trip’s end anyway.
We all enjoyed a buffet BBQ dinner, in a ski-lodge-type dining room before a large stone fireplace. Bill H and Kevin got slurringly drunk on the house beer and wine. Bill H paid $11 for one glass of wine, and wondered aloud to the waitress (a large tattooed type) where the bottle he paid for was. She was a rock to their flirting. We invited Peter (see photo below), a cross country Canadian cyclist who is heading for Ottawa, to join us at our table. He is a tall, thin, guy on an Italian steel racing bike and carries only a small Deuter backpack. We were all envious of his independence and light load. Peter hopscotched us and camped with us the next evening in Okanagon.
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| This is Tim's photo of Peter the next day in front of Shannon's in Tonasket |
I’ve been counting bird roadkill. I brought a roadkilled evening grosbeak into camp at ride’s end to confirm its identity. There were actually two evening grosbeak roadkills today. The Mazama Inn cat took no interest in the bird.
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| Internet photo of an Evening Grosbeak by Bobby Harrison |
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| Mazama Inn cat |
Tomorrow we climb Loup Loup Pass on or way to Okanogan. Be sure to join the ride.
