"The first days are the hardest days..."

-- The Grateful Dead, "Uncle John's Band"

"Most of the luxuries, and many of the so-called comforts of life, are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind."

Titanium Tom 63.67 KB

The original plan had called for Mark and I to ride up to Highway 20 and then head east, eventually joining Highway 2. We'd split up at the Minnesota border and Mark would head down to his parents place in Iowa while I'd continue east to my parents home in Cloquet. But after the 600K ride a couple of weeks ago Mark and I had talked. I'd finished that ride in good shape while Mark had bailed out at about the 300K point when he reached the place where he "really didn't want to be on the bike anymore." In our subsequent conversation he brought up what we were both thinking. "Do you think you can do the ride to Minnesota on your own?" he said. "Yes," I replied honestly, "It looks like I might have to, eh?" Mark is a very strong rider; he's often faster than I am and he's a better climber. But he decided that he just wasn't at a point where he could devote the time and mental energy required to do the full ride. Instead, we wound up deciding that Mark would join me for the first couple of days of the trip in Washington but I'd do the bulk of the trip solo.

The riding is terrific on the low traffic roads north of Snohomish and as ususal Mark and I chat on a wide range of topics. One major topic is what gear made the final cut for the journey. Mark's set-up looks more elegant than mine; he's going with a handlebar bag and small lowrider panniers up front with his sleeping bag in a waterproof stuffsack behind his saddle. Mark and I both own Hennessey ultra-light camping hammocks but unlike Mark, I've decided to leave mine at home. The hammocks, which feature built-in rain flys and bug screens work great if you have suitable trees to hang them from, but I'm figuring the camping gear I've chosen will be more adaptable to a wide range of conditions.

My camping equipment consists of a simple Goretex bathtub-style bivy that I've had for over 20 years, a 3/4 length ultralite Thermarest sleeping pad, a Golite "Fur" sleeping bag, an Adventure 16 bug bivy, one half of a space blanket to serve as a ground cloth, an Equinox Silnylon tarp/poncho, four aluminum tent stakes and various bits of nylon parachute cord. The entire camp kit except for the bug bivy fits into an Alpine Designs compression stuffsack. Total weight of the camp gear is five pounds.

Mark and I often talk about books on our rides and today is no exception. He fills me in on "Watership Down" while I quote him brief excepts from the "Tao Te Ching" by Lao Tzu. Mark is amazed that a copy of the Tao Te Ching survived my ruthless paring process and is tucked away in on of my saddlebags but I tell him that it is a very tiny Penquin 60s edition.

I explain the basics of Taoism, starting from one basic pop-culture reference point. "You've seen 'Star Wars', right?" I say, "well basically everything that came out of Yoda's mouth was lifted straight from Lao Tzu. George Lucas just flipped the syntax around. 'Backwards talk does not make one great.'" I continue in my best Yoda voice. Mark manages not to crack up, so I continue on, running him through the basics of the "Tao that can be spoken is not the true Tao" and "Whosoever practices learning increases daily, whosoever practices Tao decreases daily." Lao Tzu also wrote that "If a sage of the highest order hears about Tao he is keen to act in accordance with it. If a sage of the middle order hears about Tao he half believes and half doubts. If a sage of lower order hears about Tao he laughs loudly about it. If he does not laugh loudly then it was not yet the true Tao." I'm not sure if Mark is a sage of the middle order or if my spoken Tao is too far from the true Tao but I know that I am not a sage of the highest order. I'm quite certain that no sage of the highest order would carry a copy of the Tao Te Ching in his saddlebag, no matter how tiny an edition it was.

Mark and I continue on familiar roads, taking brief snack stops at Granite Falls and Darrington. North of Darrington we turn onto a road that's new to us, the Rockport Cascade Road which heads east before it connects up with Hwy 20, the North Cascades Highway. The Rockport Cascade Road is beautiful and lightly traveled. For about a kilometer an osprey soars just ahead and slightly above of us.

We join up with Hwy 20 and follow it east, up into the mountains. We'd agreed to each ride at our own paces and often Mark is off ahead but sometimes we're together and a few times I'm in the lead. At one point he comments that he hates climbs that have descents embedded in them but later he decides that the climb, like his wife is quickly forgiven because of it's beauty. Later still the terrain makes him even more philosophical and notes that he's now decided the descending sections are free kilometers, bringing us that much closer to our goal.

Hwy 20 is beautiful but the climb up to Rainy Pass is hot and long. Mark and I both run out of water at different points on the climb but we refill our bottles from the clear streams running out of the snowbanks that border the road at these high elevations. I make a mental note to procure a third water bottle at the next convenient location.

At the Rainy Pass summit I pull on my arm and leg warmers, wind vest and long-fingered gloves in anticipation of the cool descent before the climb up Washington Pass. After years of riding in the mountains with the Seattle International Randonneurs, I've pretty much figured out how to dress for the varying conditions one encounters in these mountains and it is a fun and comfortable descent.

After the long Rainy Pass climb the bump up to Washington Pass feels mild. Mark is off ahead again; I think he is anxious to reach the end of this day's riding. As I crest Washington Pass and see the peak called Liberty Bell bathed in the long light of evening I look over and see a marmot scrambling over the rocks. It's a lovely night for riding and this far north at this time of year the light lingers till nearly 10:00 PM. By the time it's dark enough for us to need our lights, Mark and I have enjoyed the dozens of kilometers of descent off the pass. In the morning coming up from Issaquah I'd seen a couple of deer and we saw many more on the long twilight descent.

In Winthrop we fill our bottles at the public restrooms, call our wives and chat with some tourists and the local police officer about where we might spend the night. The officer suggests that we camp at the riverside public use area just over the bridge and we heed his advice. By the light of our helmet lamps we lay out our gear and by 11:00 PM we are completely settled in.

Forward to June 16, 2002 -- Winthrop WA to Coleville WA

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