Houston’s Odometer ?
Maryhill State Park, Maryhill, Washington
Ouch, ouch, ouch. What a grim day this was. We crossed the River at Umatilla and rode west on US 14 through a very parched country. Ran into Christian who had left before us about 15 miles in enjoying some biscuits and gravy. Later, we saw a group of maybe 50 riders heading east with the wind at their backs. There was a large support van, so obviously this was one of them well supported rides you hear about. Stopped for Peanut Butter, Banana, and Honey sandwiches in North Roosevelt. We had been about 50 miles and had already drained our bags and bottles once, with a little top off along the way. The store owners advised us against filling with their hose (Not the first time we had been warned off tap water this trip. Never sure if this is an attempt to sell bottled water or a genuine commentary on the condition of what is available from most people’s water supplies. Someone should study this.)
The last 35 miles of the ride (Note: 85 miles after we had sworn off anymore “hero days” a few days ago.) were hilly, very windy, and brutally hot with handlebar temperatures near 120 and the real temperature over 100. We finally caught a break as we hit the top of the hill just above Mary Hill when we visited the visitor Center for Stonehenge where we bought a six pack of Pepsi and drained 3 of them. We had a cranking descent down to the river along Stonehenge drive (note to bicyclist: take this instead of the Adventure Cycling recommendation to continue along 14 and then 97. It is shorter, avoids a hill, and has almost no traffic. Plus, there is fruit to buy along the way.)
The ladies had selected a shaded RV site although it cost more money. Talked to a biker who was from SE Idaho who we had aso been paralleling for a few days. He also said that he was completely wiped by the last few days of hills, wind , and heat and was tempted to take a day off here to recover a bit.
We cleaned up with a cold jump in the river and a colder shower and went to bed at dusk. But not for long enough. Although we were promised it wouldn’t happen, we were hosed down around 3:30 in the morning by the sprinkler system. Garrett got the worst of it and everything in or near his tent was drenched. He shuffled off to try to sleep in the car’s shotgun seat. The rest of us made due with dampness.
In later edits I will let loose about this bizarre concept of camping that dominates our culture. Loading up your second home and driving to a synthetic environment (Note to America: grass doesn’t grow in Eastern Wasintgtom. Its a desert!), parking it, hooking up your power, sewer, and water, and sitting inside in airconditioing watching TV and staring at the beautiful lawn out the windows does not qualify as a natural experience!