Crossing Washington On The JWPT - Prologue

My route across Washington on the John Wayne Pioneer Trail looks like this:

An interactive version is available here. Obviously, the route doesn't cross all of Washington; it finishes up at Puget Sound. A tacked on ferry ride and a crossing of the Olympic Peninsula out to the Pacific is awesome to think about, but wasn't in the cards for this trip. Another time, maybe.

The other thing worth noting about the route is that the JWPT trail only goes as far west as Rattlesnake Lake, on the western slope of the Cascades. From there, the route follows four other public access trails to the Sound. I'll talk about that section in detail in my Day 6 post.

I'd planned to take eight days plus a short beginning day that I called the "Prologue", to make the crossing. This was based on an expectation of a rough average of 50 miles a day and an average speed of 10 mph.  This meant 5 or 6 hours a day in the saddle, which should leave plenty of time for some R&R. The last thing I wanted this trip to be was a rush - I wanted time to really get into the experience and enjoy the surroundings. I wanted to take lots of pictures. And read a book. Oy, if I had known then what I know now.

In the spirit of getting immersed into the trip, the Prologue was all about cheating a bit, by escaping and getting onto the trail a little early. To avoid wasting any part of the first actual tour day on logistics or acclimation.  I worked until 2:00 on Prologue Friday and then bailed straight for home, where everything was packed and ready.  I loaded up and then Patty and I swung by Eric's house and loaded him and his gear and bee-lined for the Idaho border.  Our goal for the day was to get roughly 10 miles into the trip, which should place us right where we wanted to wake up on Saturday morning . . . smack in the middle of nowhere, WA.

We reached the border, loaded up and were ready to roll by about 5:30. Was I born to wear a cowboy hat or what?  (As usual, click any pic in the post to supersize.)

Under sunny skies and amidst the greenest fields ever, we basked in the euphoria of a tour just begun.

Five or six miles in, we reached Tekoa, where we joined up with Scott and re-joined up with Patty. We dined at their rad Bar and Grill, as per the master plan.

A bit about the cast of characters is in order, at this point. You already know me (left) too well. Eric (center) is a bike-circle friend who also turns 50 this year and who you may remember from the next-to-latest series of rack building classes. He's a seasoned tourer and pretty exceptional endurance athlete - he just ran a 3:17 in the Windermere Marathon, thereby qualifying him for the Boston Marathon. He loves this kind of stuff and originally planned to go halfway with me, but then later threw down for the whole enchilada. Scott (right) and I knew each other from the interwebs, but were just meeting for the first time in person. I was aware that he had a thing for rail trails and so I tossed out some trail-bait and he took it. He's a strong cyclist who nerds out on all manner of bike and camping gear, so he fit right in.

After a swell dinner complete with a coupla microbrews, I bid my lovely bride farewell and headed out on the open road with my tour mates. The massive trestle that spans Tekoa is closed and so we were forced to endure the horror of this detour.

We were in no big hurry to get anywhere, really, so once back on the trail we backtracked to the trestle, just 'cause.

Spiderman checks out the view from the deck. Neither of us particularly cared to join him.

We were treated to some damn fine scenery on the way out to our (as yet unknown) destination.

The trail was at times a bit challenging, possibly a portend to the events of the coming days, but we were too damn giddy to pay much attention.

Yes, it was in the middle of cow country and yes, it smelled as bad as it looks like it smelled.

We encountered the first of what would be many "routine" trestle detours on the eastern portion of the trail.  Most of these trestles spanned creeks or roads and the detours were a pretty minor inconvenience, although they did contribute in some way to slowing the overall pace. More on that later.

We found our spot for the night atop a nice vantage point next to a killer trestle and watched the sun go down and listened to packs of coyotes volley calls across the rolling hills. Life for the moment was very, very good.

Prologue Ride Stats
18 miles
2:02 saddle time
8.7 mph avg
28.2 mph max

Crossing Washington State On The John Wayne Pioneer Trail

I don't know exactly when I started planning this trip, but maybe a year and a half ago. In a nutshell, my brain hatched the idea to celebrate my first half-century on the planet by doing something bike-special. In the brainstorming phase, all options were on the table . . . even ideas like devoting the year to racing and seeing how fast and fit I could become. But there had been planted in my head a seed of a slightly different variety, and I don't know where it came from exactly, but it sprouted and took root, and whatever remaining internal discussion ensued was really just an excercise. The first time I wrote about it was here.

If I had a dime for every hour I've spent thinking, dreaming, researching, scheming about this trip over the past year-and-a-half, I could buy myself some some pretty fabulous new bike gear . . . maybe even a whole new bike of some sort. The dream would not be complete if it didn't involve a fatbike, and so there was the whole deal of figuring out which one and all the component nuances. And then figuring out the travel gear and how to haul it, which inevitably would include conceiving and fabricating new rackage. And then hours of route planning over google and paper maps, and synthesizing bits and pieces of personal and online accounts of people who had ridden or knew something about the trail. Along with dedicated recon trips. And non-recon trips that got hijacked into checking out sections of the trail. I'm not a super old man yet, but there's some wisdom that's been slowing developing and one thing of which I'm a thousand percent certain is that dreams are a very good thing and I relish every second I spent dreaming about this trip.

The dream then, finally ended and became reality this past week.

For all my planning, it took on a life of its own. Not that the planning was pointless or useless; it's just that the trail is so bold and so powerful that it's not about to let anyone, let alone some dumbass city-dweller, tame it or tell it how things are gonna be. On the other hand, it was a damn fine host - country style. It shared its spectacular scenery without reserve and insisted that I relinquish a certain amount of control over the experience . . so that I could experience! And so for that, I owe it my gratitude.

My most profound anvil-in-the-forehead type of takeaway from this trip is how little control we ultimately have over this life and what a hinderance we place on ourselves when we try to use control as a shelter. The lesson from the trail goes way deeper than that brief statement and right to some pretty powerful stuff at my core, but the tone of this blog is supposed to be more on the light-hearted side. Maybe one day we can sit down in person and do some peyote together and I will unload on you. Hopefully not, for your sake.

On a lighter note, my biggest whimsical surprise: I've never worn a cowboy hat and it's been many years since I've downed an orange soda. On this trip, me and my hat were pretty much inseparable and any bottle of Fanta in sight was justifiably in fear for its life. Righteous.

By the numbers:
380 - Total miles
42 hrs, 34 mins - Total saddle time
153,240 - Crank revolutions (Assuming a cadence of 60)
11.5 - Highest daily speed avg (Day 6)
5.5 - Lowest daily speed avg (Day 2)
64 - Trestles crossed
40 - Trestles detoured

11 - Tunnels passed
0 - Tunnels detoured
?? - Gates passed (There is such a thing as too much counting)

23 - Deer spotted (By the end of day 1. And then I quit. There is such a thing as too much counting.)
6 - Rabbits (Where are all the bunnies?)
1 - Elk
1 - Coyote (Where are all the dogs?)

I've decided that the way I'd like to tell the story of this trip is day-at-a-time, so seven posts are forthcoming. Lots of pics and thoughts to organize, so not sure about the exact schedule. Thanks in advance for your patience.

Edit/Supplement, Oct 30, 2012:

I'm adding the following index of posts covering this trip, so that information will be available on a section-by-section basis for anyone who's trying to learn more about the trail or plan a trip.  I've also included a link to an interactive map on bikeroutetoaster.com.

Interactive Route Map On Bikeroutetoaster.com
Note: To get a gpx track of the route, click the "Summary" tab and look for the "Download" box. Or email my at pat[dot]sprute[at]gmail[dot]com and I'll send you the file.


Prologue: WA-ID Border to Tekoa and Beyond

Day 1: Just Past Tekoa to A Ways Past Ewan

Day 2: Middle of Nowhere to Ralston

Day 3: Ralston to Othello

Day 4: Othello to Ellensburg

Day 5: Ellensburg to Snoqualmie Pass

Day 6: Snoqualmie Pass to Puget Sound

A Supplementary Post With Some Detail About Our Bikes And Gear

The 2015 Cow Creek Revisit

My Cross-State Tour

It ended earlier than planned, due to family matters. It wasn't exactly what I expected. And I had no hope of controlling it - it controlled me.

Despite, or maybe because of this, it was awesome. And majorly successful, in my mind.

I'll be busy with my family for the next coupla days. After that, I'll be back to talk about the trip so much that you'll eventually wanna vomit.

Half Loaded

I haven't even gotten started on the right side yet, but the left is side is kind of done. I can't believe the escalation in planning between a one-to-two day trip (which is all I've ever done) vs an eight day trip, which is what I'm about to embark upon.

The front pannier contains the "solid" meals that I need to cover via freeze-dried. I'll be eating at cafes and taco trucks whenever I can, but the eastern stretch and the Cascade Pass stretch just don't have much in the way of those kinds of services. It's about 6 lbs of bag and food all up, pre-water. The dork rear basket is holding some closed cell foam which doubles as basket cushioning and a sit pad, and also some spare tubes, but most importantly an MSR water bladder.  There's a 24 hour stretch through eastern WA where the only water available is out of creeks in cow country and I'm hoping I can carry enough to avoid having to filter that scary shit.

The electrical storm we just had here tonight was amazing. There was something sparking about every 10 seconds. I've never seen anything around here with that kind of frequency. And then the rain and hail. Holy hell. If I could get an event like that on my trip, I would be so stoked. If I didn't get struck by lightning and die, that is.

The Packing Has Begun

In earnest.

 The three phases of packing, for me, are:

1. Throw everything you think you "might need" into a pile.
2. Narrow the pile down to something halfway reasonable.
3. Bargain with yourself over the reasonable pile, which isn't even close to reasonable.

#1 might seem easy but it's really hard, because by the time you get done, you look at the huge pile of shit you have assembled and your brain just hurts.

#2 is a sensible process sandwiched in between two others that are hurtful.

#3 is the meanest. It's where you have to predict what you can and cannot live without. This can literally go on for days, if you have given yourself this kind of time to spare.

Case in point is Nuun. It literally saved my life and I won't leave home without it ever again. I've amassed a small tablet arsenal, weighted flavor-wise heavily toward the cola end of the spectrum. There's no need to carry a hundred tabs, but there's no reason to deny yourself a bit of satisfaction in the middle of nowhere, either. I guess you can see the difficult kind of decisions I am facing.

In other news, Patty and I trekked to Seattle this weekend (by car) for some family celebrations. On the way back of course, I made us stop and look at some JWPT stuff. The big tunnel is open, for sure.

In other, other news, one of the family gatherings we attended was on the Edmonds shoreline. During which an incredible sunset ensued. The following were shot with the amazing iPhone cam. Crazy little bastard that it is.

In other, other, other news, we got back home and among the stuff we started doing was laundry. I ran my wallet through, by accident. If you can help it, don't do this.

Local Moto-Bike, Ripe For The Picking

With thanks to Anon, for the anonymous tip on this c/l ad. My sense of nostalgia isn't strong enough for me to part with this kind of cash and/or find a place to put it.  But interesting to know that one is out there and what it's worth - apparently $430 is not enough and $440 is a tad too much. First order of business for the lucky new owner is a re-upholstery job, it would appear.

Preparations

 Last bits of new gear . . .

 Shaking down the new gear . . .

Eric, who's joining me on the tour, stopped by so we could work out some final details.  That's my old Xtracycle and I'll tell you what . . . it's in such good hands. If I still had it, it would most likely be sitting in my basement collecting dust, but Eric and Zoe ride the krap out of it. I see them all over everywhere. And they take amazing camping trips to faraway places.

Zoe's cockpit. Whatever is here serves a purpose. Because when you spend that much time in one place, things get dialed in, and there's no room for stuff that doesn't work for you. Eric told me that there were streamers on the handlebars, but as she sat there for hours on end, the temptation to pluck them was just too great.

Moon shot from last night. Hank sent me a link with instructions for some hi-tech smoke-and-mirror moon shot techniques that might actually help me get some decent results, but there's time involved and until I have that to spare, I'm just gonna keep hacking away.