We knew that we would be staying in another trailer motel tonight, but that was fine with us. At least, it was a place to stay. Custer, the location of the motel definitely rates as the smelliest town we have visited. It seems that there are many feed lots nearby.

The next day we got an early start to Forsyth. The Hysham Hill was just outside of Custer. Little did we know that that one hill would turn into many. We did some serious climbing again today. This may have been one of our most intense days of climbing. I hated going down at all because it just meant that we would climb again and again and again.

It seems that the day either starts or ends with a climb, or does both. This was the case with entering Forsyth, a friendly town with a picturesque courthouse. We were not looking forward to an upcoming ride of 80 miles with basically no services and totally decided against it when a local suggested a longer, but less desolate route. It would add a day or two to our itinerary, but we were really in no hurry to get anywhere. Besides, we didn’t know when we would get to this area again.

The scenery in this area was spectacularly desert-like with many buttes thrown in for good measure. The trees had once again disappeared and I thought of this as a typical cowboy landscape. How different it is from the other end of the state near Glacier Park and Missoula, places that were quickly becoming distant memories.

The ride was a gradual climb at first followed by some steeper climbs. We made it into Butte before the rain and made decent time. The plan was to visit the area the next morning and head onto Bozeman, but that plan was altered by the threat of snow. We had a wonderful visit of the area in the morning under mostly blue skies. We hoped that the snow would be a joke, but that wasn’t the case. The snow came- 7″ of it – so we took the Greyhound to Bozeman. Not as simple as we thought.

While walking from the bus station to the hotel, we heard a local comment about our cycling prowess. Considering that we were simply pushing the bikes, we found the remark rather humorous. We arrived later in the day so we planned on touring Bozeman the next morning and then leaving in the early afternoon for the short ride to Livingston. As things go, the weather was following us, which meant that the snow was due to arrive in Bozeman. We simply hunkered down here another night so that we would have a pleasant ride over Bozeman Pass and into Livingston.

It was quite chilly on the day that we would be cycling over Bozeman Pass, so we bundled up in the clothes that we hadn’t needed for a long time. I thought that the days of wearing tights were long gone, but was glad that I had something to keep me warm.

We started up the pass and as we came close to the highest elevation, the snow began to fall. This road wasn’t the best as it had a disappearing shoulder and it was rather hard to see ahead with the snow blowing in our faces. We eventually reached the high point and were disappointed not to see an elevation marker. We got off the interstate as soon as a frontage road appeared and made the cold and quick decent into Livingston.

I had been to Livingston a few years prior to board a train for a tour of the area. We walked to the station and I tried to get our bearings. Since we had left Bozeman late, we were in town at the wrong time for lunch. Maybe restaurants had already stopped their lunch service for the day, but we eventually found a suitable Mexican restaurant.

Reed Point was next on the itinerary and we had a nice ride on mostly frontage roads. As has been the case almost every day, the wind picked up. We had an intense crosswind coupled with spurts of rain. our last 15 miles into town took more effort than I wanted to exert. It was such a relief to make it to the Montana Hotel, a nice change of scenery from the predictable decor of the chains that we had been staying in.

We trudged on through Montana and thought that we had already been in this state long enough to become residents. On the way to Billings, we pedaled very few miles on the interstate. We climbed some intense hills, but the climbs were worth the great views. Not shocking was the fact that we suddenly found ourselves riding into an intense headwind the last few miles into Billings. Our approach was not a good one, as it seemed like we could have avoided a very treacherous, congested bridge on the way to our motel. We crossed that without incident even though I know my heartrate was up and not from the pedaling.

We stopped in the small town of Drummond – how many big towns are there out here?- and had a better breakfast and took refuge from the weather. We didn’t rush to leave, but figured if we had to fight the wind that we should get back on the road to Deer Lodge. We did plan on visiting the Grant Kohrs ranch (listen to a podcast of the ranch at the bottom of the page)there and having dinner with some people who knew the area well.

Deer Lodge had an interesting old jail and really was an oasis in the middle of nowhere. We carefully watched the weather as there was a winter storm advisory. We were glad that we didn’t do the Scenic Pinter Road as we heard that had snow already. Although the weather was quite chilly when we started the ride in Astoria, we had gotten used to not having serious precipitation for a long while. And we weren’t expecting precipitation in the form of snow.

Lunch was good and a treat, unlike the road into Missoula. We hadn’t been near a big city in ages and traffic lights and heavy traffic were foreign to us. We made it safely into town and looked for a pathway to take us to the center of the city. As luck would have it, we found another kind stranger who led us into town and directed us to the library so that we could update the blog and check email.
Missoula was not our final stop since we had such a short day yesterday. We had many more miles to get to our final destination of Rock Creek, so we opted to take I-90 as it was the shortest route possible. The first several miles of riding were quite unpleasant as there was lots of traffic and the shoulder totally disappeared when we crossed over bridges. This forced us into the lanes of traffic, which was quite treacherous. At least we had a tailwind for this part of the ride and were ticking off the miles quickly.

When we reached Rock Creek we found our lodging for the night and headed to a very nice restaurant. I was distracted by signs at the nearby campground warning about bears; not my favorite animal. We found a nice laundry facility and washed our clothes for the first time in awhile. It’s always so nice to have clean clothes. Smelly clothes probably attract bears.

From here on in, we have many days to traverse Montana. There are more passes coming along the way. We decided not to go to Helena, but through Butte and then over to Livingston and Billings. Until we return again, we don’t know what we missed going this direction. We do know that there is a scenic mountain road that we would like to travel on – with a car.

Well, the climb was a bit more challenging than Alpowa. The road gradually climbed for a few miles, then took a steep turn. I was happy to be on this side of the road and climbing. Descending Lolo toward Powell looked like quite the treacherous ride. For some reason, I have lost the thrill I once had of fast descents that I had enjoyed so much. I never understood those who used their brakes going downhill. I am now one of those people and totally understand as I now often feel that I will catapult over the handlebars.

Certainly, I didn’t need to worry about great speed on this climb. We both steadily climbed taking rests every now and then. At times, I wished for a lower gear, but it really wouldn’t have made the climb all that much easier. This climb was done a mile at a time and although the miles clicked off very slowly, we were making progress. We stopped at an overlook and Robert had forgotten that he was clipped in. Even after all this time, it is easy enough to forget that our feet are rather permanently affixed to the pedals. It seems the easiest time to forget is when we our distracted by something or in a situation of impending doom.

Some road workers checked to see if Robert were OK and told us that there was hot coffee at the visitor center at the top. Even though we aren’t big coffee drinkers, a warm drink became the next goal. The grade of the climb seemed to be less intense or maybe we were just feeling stronger, spurred on by the promise of a drink at the top. Snow suddenly appeared along the road, followed shortly after by a building – the visitor center.

We chatted with the friendly volunteers and some motorcyclists who informed us how much drivers hate cyclists. Just what we needed to hear. In general, most of the traffic has been courteous. My last brush with death was on the first day of the trip when that logging truck came within millimeters of my arm.

The visitor center is quite pleasant with hot chocolate, which I opted for, and coffee. Since we had a fast downhill ride to Lolo Hot Springs, we were in no great rush. The thrill of conquering Lolo made the stiffness disappear. This must have been one of those endorphin highs. The sign welcoming us to Montana was just on the other side of the parking light and its message was calling to us. It was time
to head down into the next state.

The downhill was a nice one and we realized that climbing up from the other side would have been a long steady incline, unlike the steep and sharp way we arrived. However, this made our descent far more comfortable as we didn’t need to maneuver steep hairpins. We quickly reached Lolo Hot Springs where we enjoyed the water and relaxed for the rest of the day. After all, we didn’t cover that much territory today. It was certainly a good plan on our part and a nice reward for our efforts.

I could ride down Lolo from the direction that we climbed, but there were some steep and sharp curves that would take away the pleasure.

Arrival Day/May 1 – no cycling

We arrived in Portland early in the day and a fellow WSL member had responded to my query about transportation options that went to Astoria before the late afternoon. Cindi, a most generous fellow cyclist volunteered to drive us out to Astoria, which is not just a few blocks from her home. We feel that this set the tone for the trip; the kindness of strangers added many high notes to our trip. We still keep in touch with Cindi and hope that someday we can offer her similar hospitality. We have always been impressed by the generosity, support and advice of fellow touring cyclists.

We enjoyed lunch together and as we left the restaurant some guy got fairly close into my personal space. I didn’t recognize my own brother who was waiting outside the Cannery Restaurant, which is neither near nor affiliated with the Cannery Pier Hotel. It was just a coincidence that he was there. We bid farewell to Cindi and her friend and hopped into my brother’s car for an extensive tour of the area. Forts, bunkers and columns. We did it all and then had dinner, which got us back to our very comfortable hotel, The Cannery Pier rather too late to enjoy it. This was a planning mistake on my part. I figured that we had most of the afternoon to see the sights and hang out with my brother. We really needed another day, even though we didn’t really plan on heading out of Astoria until later in the afternoon the next day. We really should have known better. Being on EST, we were rather tired when we arrived back at the hotel. The bikes still sat in their boxes, which we had shipped there via FedEx.

Day 1/May 2 to Cathlamet Island

We definitely had to dip our wheels in the Pacific on this cold and windy day. Being pressed for time, we put the bikes on a city bus and headed out to Warrenton. We found a convenient spot in the state park to access the Pacific, where we encountered another touring cyclist. Little did we know that he would be one of just a handful that we would meet along the next 3377 miles to the Atlantic.

We dipped the wheels without being washed out into the rough and cold sea and headed back to Astoria. Being only my second day using clipless, I forgot that I was clipped in and took a spill on one of the trails in the park. I ripped my tights making it simple for the blood to gush out from my knee. I really wasn’t planning on crashing and using the first aid kit within the first 5 miles of the trip. Not an auspicious start.
We returned to the hotel, realizing that we hadn’t really had time to enjoy it as we should have. We reluctantly checked out and headed to downtown.

We had an excellent lunch at Clemente’s (click here to hear a podcast with the owner)and then visiting the wonderful Columbia River Maritime Museum. Too bad that we didn’t plan another entire day here. Astoria is definitely a place that we would visit again since it offers so much considering its size.

The afternoon was quickly slipping by so we thought it wise to get on the road. We would never, ever ride this route again. Although this is part of Adventure Cycling’s Lewis and Clark route, it sure isn’t an ideal route for cycling. If you are comfortable with narrow roads with occasional shoulders, broken pavement on the road’s edge and large and fast logging trucks, you might not mind the ride. We don’t find any of the above conditions ideal, so felt endangered. In fact, a lumber truck nearly brushed my bicycle as I was going downhill on the wet pavement due to the rain that started shortly after we hit the road. I thought for sure that I had ridden my final mile, but somehow had the strength to keep the bike in a straight line and on the pavement.

I rested a few times along the way, often just to clean the debris and raindrops that spotted my glasses. This road was bad enough and seeing might be helpful. My stress level was high and the ride was not one bit enjoyable.

We finally approached the turnoff where we would take the ferry, noticing some stuggling cyclists climbing up toward Astoria as we coasted down. We waited just a short time for the ferry to Cathlamet Island where we easily found our WSL hosts for the night.

They were such pleasant people and offered such wonderful hospitality that I thought again that we should have spent another day in Astoria, so that we could have a more restful time here. But, duty called.

Day 2/May 3 – to Longview

One reason that we crossed over to the Washington side was that we heard that the road was more pleasant than Route 30. After the first day’s ride, we were anxious for a more pleasant road. For the most part, the road was pleasant, but the shoulders varied and were often narrow, but the traffic did not seem as harrowing as on the Oregon side. We took a break in a roadside park and hoped that a ship would pass by. I don’t even recall if we saw one, but we couldn’t stay there forever although we wished that we could have spent more time here. We knew that rain was in the forecast and wanted to arrive at our destination before the skies opened.

We continued into Longview in search of our next WSL host. Fortunately, we found the house just in time to miss a downpour. The rain seemed to like us.

Day 3/May 4 – no cycling

Since we were so close to Mount St. Helens and had never seen it, we had arranged a rental car to drive there the next day. Look at us taking a day off the bikes after only two days of riding.

Of course, we enjoyed our visit and did get a peek at the volcano. We also got into a snowstorm. We should have guessed that this wasn’t just a fluke, but didn’t think of it much then.

We returned to Longview and briefly visited with our host who had forgotten that she had an engagement out of town. We enjoyed her aunt, dad and kids for the rest of the evening. It would be a very long time before we stayed with another WSL member as there were few along our route. In fact, it would not be until Wisconsin that this would happen again.

Day 4 /May 5 to Portland

Our host’s dad drove us across the Longview Bridge, which I had read horror stories about. It was full of debris and had a steep incline and narrow shoulder. Not an ideal situation. Dad dropped us off at an old nuclear station back in Oregon, on Route 30. The shoulder had widened and the road was a bit more pleasant in this area, but that wouldn’t last long. We had to get into Portland today, but would be making a stop in St. Helen’s along the way to do some kayaking and see the town.

The road to St. Helen’s wasn’t too bad, but just before we reached the turnoff into town, we were pummeled by hail. This seemed a daily occurrence. We found one of the ubiquitous coffee kiosks, grabbed a cup and hid under an overhang until the rain and hail let up. Fortunately, the bad weather subsided while we kayaked with the Scappoose Bay Kayaking Company. What a lovely paddle we had and how nice to switch from pedaling to paddling. We got out of the kayaks and continued on our way to Portland. Shortly after getting on Route 30 again, the road became busy and treacherous all the way into Portland. I would never recommend this route for bicycling and think that Adventure Cycling did a disservice to touring cyclists by doing so. It would be far better to do a long detour to avoid this road.

Later in the trip, we heard about multiple fatalities on that stretch of road. So glad we hadn’t heard about those tragic events prior to our trip. We safely reached Portland and checked into the hip Ace Hotel, which we truly enjoyed. It’s definitely a funky alternative to the typical chain hotels and the location was excellent.

Day 5/ May 6 -no cycling
We quickly toured the town visiting the flea market, the aerial tram and one of the quirkiest museums, the Velveteria. It’s funny how quickly this day passed by. We could have easily spent another day in Portland.

Wanting to get an early start up the Columbia Gorge, we moved to Edgefield in Troutdale. We especially liked the concept of this place as we could picture ourselves taking on such a project.

Day 6/May 7
Getting up and over the Historic Columbia Highway was the first intimidating challenge for me. Considering that we hadn’t trained and I am not a strong hill climber, I was definitely not looking forward to the road ahead. Our early start was delayed when nobody could find the key to the room where we had stored our bicycles. We had confirmed before retiring the night before that we would have access to our bicycles at the crack of dawn. So much for planning.

Fortunately since it was so early in the season, there were few cars on the highway. I steadily climbed at a slow pace but without an excessive amount of strain. What a surprise it was to reach the Portland Women’s Forum and to have already climbed around 900 feet without really suffering. Despite many people on a touring bike forum suggesting that the gearing on the my Trek 520 wasn’t low enough for touring, I kept the gearing on the bike as it came and never experienced any problems with it being too high. Yes, there were a few times that it would have been nice to have a lower gear, but what I had was quite adequate, even for a poor hill climber like me. I think that the clipless pedals helped a lot.

From this point on, the road to Hood River was basically downhill. We got on to I-84 and made really good time to Hood River where we stayed at the gorgeous Columbia Gorge Hotel. This was the last time for awhile that we would be meeting up with people we knew. Today my sister and her family came to visit us from Bend. Yesterday, my friend from college who now lives in Portland stopped by. We wouldn’t have these encounters with familiarity anymore. We would really be heading into the great vastness.

We toured some local wineries, had dinner with the relatives and then got ready for the next day. The plan was to drive to Mt. Hood in the morning and then head to The Dalles. We don’t get to these parts often, so taking time to see the local attractions made sense to us.

Day 7/May 8 -The Dalles

We had the largest breakfast that we have ever seen at the Columbia Gorge Hotel. We surely wouldn’t need to eat for several days. We really hated to have to leave this very comfortable spot, but the Atlantic Ocean beckoned. We decided that we wanted to make good time to The Dalles, so we opted to take I-84 rather than continuing on the Historic Highway. This was a good choice, although getting used to Interstate riding took some concentration. It’s especially harrowing when the shoulder totally disappears on the bridges.

We arrived in the Dalles and found our lodging for the night, The Columbia Windrider Inn, a guest house that caters to windsurfers, who frequent the area. The owner is involved in the windsurfing community so understands the needs of active travelers. We enjoyed his hospitality and great breakfast.

Day 8/May 9

We got an early enough start again and now felt that we were truly cycling into the big wide open. Our only option was to take I-84, which we adjusted to rather quickly. It certainly differs from I-75 or I-87. Sometimes, there was so little traffic that we almost forgot that we were on a major highway.

We had modified our itinerary a bit to accommodate our sightseeing the past week, but the route stayed the same, only the stopping points changed. We got to Arlington early enough in the day. It seems that we usually reached our destinations shortly after noon, which gave us time to shop and tour the local area. Arlington didn’t have much but a grocery store and motel without internet. Not too handy for catching up on email or journals. The local library had very limited hours, or I should say, very limited days. It only opened for a few hours on a few days each week.

The scenery drastically changed once we left the gorge. Green was not in the color palette once we continued east. Trees disappeared as well. You don’t really appreciate trees until they disappear.

Well, today is May 9th again. It was a lot warmer May 9th of last year. It’s only 54 degrees right now, somewhat reminiscent of our first days of cycling in the rain, hail and cold.
So far this year, I have a whopping 57 miles of cycling in. Looks like I am lagging just a bit behind. By this time last year and thanks to our adventure, we had over 200 miles in the saddle. Really we aren’t too far behind, but unless we start riding continuously for the next few months, we will lag far behind.

Back to those bikes for sale. My bike has no seat, but sure looks forlorn sitting in its corner with motionless wheels and unladen frame. My old Specialized will suffice for doing short tours and rides to our other house. I would never just take the Trek 520 for a short ride to the grocery store. If you know anybody looking for two nice touring bikes, we are in possession of them. Send a comment to us and we will get in touch.

Not hopping on the bike everyday didn’t phase me at all. I think that I was ready to be finished with the tour, but now I am getting antsy and am thinking of doing a short tour. Riding around Lake Champlain still appeals to me as does just doing a short overnight ride. We found an excellent route out of here to the east. As long as we don’t go beyond North Adams and up the hairpin hell, we are good.