Ok, the plan was to start in Seattle, head down to Lewiston Idaho, a quick stop for coffee with my Aunt and Uncle, then over the Lolo pass to Missoula Montana and I-90 home for a 1050 mile Ironbutt run.
I left the house around 3:30 AM so I could be well clear of Seattle's traffic which picks up around 5:30 with commuters and headed east on I-90. A hundred odd miles into my ride once I was over the Snoqualmie pass, after watching a beautiful sunrise through a veil of distant rain, I got the rain. Not misty rain, not drizzly rain but lightning and thunder, pound your helmet, obscure your visor, feel it beating on your chest and shoulders rain. It was a bad time to discover that my riding jacket is beginning to lose its waterproofing and that my Frogg Toggs fail in torrential rain, especially in the crotch area where water pools. So I pulled off the road for an hour and had breakfast while the storm hammered its fury down on the highway.
About the time I was ready to go, the sun peaked out and promised a beautiful day. A couple hours later, I turn off of I-90 to head southeast to Lewiston and have to make a decision between routes. As I examine the three possible routes on my GPS, I note that the shortest most direct route has the longest predicted travel time.Why could that be? Oh, its single lane - doesn't go through any town of significant size and runs parallel to the Snake River. Why yes, a winding twisting river valley road with a reduced speed limit because there isn't a straight stretch longer than a two miles over the course of two hundred with the sun shining down sounds like just the thing. And was it ever. Not a soul on the road, well maintained pavement, little towns - only one gas stop, a 24/7 unattended pump that I almost missed, though and I'm sure glad I stopped there just in case because I would have been walking otherwise. Nice leg of the ride but I am another hour or so behind schedule for the Ironbutt.
I got to Lewiston well behind schedule and sit down with my family and start chatting. We haven't seen each other in quite a while so there is a lot to talk about. My quick stop is turning into a bit of break. My Aunt suggests we got get burgers at the place her friend took that she liked so much. So off we go because I love me a good burger. Its was a fantastic little joint with hand made burgers, perfect buns, great fries and pretty waitress. Perfect. And we spent a whole bunch more time. The Ironbutt was out of the question. My Uncle suggested I ride north on SR95. Its runs right up the Idaho panhandle to connects to I-90 AND it runs through my mothers home town where I have many fond memories of my Grammy's house as a child. That would be a good stop and 700 miles is still a good day.
So north I go and see evil black clouds and lightning off to the east - its not in front of me but it will be close by. I get 20 miles north of Moscow (that's moss-coh, not moss-cow), those evil black clouds move west and I get pummeled, just like the morning only with hail and no where to pull off and wait it out. The storm finally slacks off enough that I can at least pull over and add a few layers without soaking them while putting them on. With the dry layers added, I felt much better and rode another 5 miles to find a wonderful little rest stop in exactly the wrong spot to help me. I'm pretty miserable.
I arrive at my mother's childhood home and find that it is still there. I decide to take a picture to send to my mother and the owner comes out, quite indignant that I am taking pictures of her home and demanding an explanation. "It was my Grandmother's at one time," I explain. "Who was your grandmother," still suspicious. So I named my grandmother and saw that storm clear as well. The current owner is the same lady that bought it from my Grammy 31 years ago. We introduced ourselves and chatted and she showed me around the property and I got to remember being six years old, waiting on the bottom stair early in the morning, because I wasn't allowed to come downstairs before my Grammy got up. Then I'd have her all to myself for an hour before the rest of the house started to move around. I'm glad Missoula didn't work out.
Back on the highway and the sun comes back out and I am dry and warm again but starting to feel the length of the day. I stop in Spokane at Denny's for some eggs and rest. I'll be home by midnight and all is well. I take a nice long break, rehydrate, get some protein in my belly and feeling good, head out on the last leg of my trip.
As the sun sets, to my dismay, more thunderheads directly in front of me, I am in quandary. Do I suffer it out and ride three hours cold and wet and be home with my kids tonight, 14 and 11, or pull off get a hotel and leave my kids on their own for the night, my wife being out of town. I decide to ride home. Then the rain hits and my resolve washes away. I turned around at the next exit and headed back to the last hotel I'd seen by the highway and slept warm and dry and the kids survived - they didn't even complain.
I hit the highway with the sun - and the wind. It must have been a 30 mph head wind. I burned a tank of gas in 120 miles doing 73 in 5th gear completely wound out. But I was warm and dry with the sun on my face with the exception of the cloud bank at the top of Snoqualmie and I made it home safe and sound.
It was a great ride. And it looks like it will take as long to read about it as it did to ride it. Thanks if you got this far.
I left the house around 3:30 AM so I could be well clear of Seattle's traffic which picks up around 5:30 with commuters and headed east on I-90. A hundred odd miles into my ride once I was over the Snoqualmie pass, after watching a beautiful sunrise through a veil of distant rain, I got the rain. Not misty rain, not drizzly rain but lightning and thunder, pound your helmet, obscure your visor, feel it beating on your chest and shoulders rain. It was a bad time to discover that my riding jacket is beginning to lose its waterproofing and that my Frogg Toggs fail in torrential rain, especially in the crotch area where water pools. So I pulled off the road for an hour and had breakfast while the storm hammered its fury down on the highway.
About the time I was ready to go, the sun peaked out and promised a beautiful day. A couple hours later, I turn off of I-90 to head southeast to Lewiston and have to make a decision between routes. As I examine the three possible routes on my GPS, I note that the shortest most direct route has the longest predicted travel time.Why could that be? Oh, its single lane - doesn't go through any town of significant size and runs parallel to the Snake River. Why yes, a winding twisting river valley road with a reduced speed limit because there isn't a straight stretch longer than a two miles over the course of two hundred with the sun shining down sounds like just the thing. And was it ever. Not a soul on the road, well maintained pavement, little towns - only one gas stop, a 24/7 unattended pump that I almost missed, though and I'm sure glad I stopped there just in case because I would have been walking otherwise. Nice leg of the ride but I am another hour or so behind schedule for the Ironbutt.
I got to Lewiston well behind schedule and sit down with my family and start chatting. We haven't seen each other in quite a while so there is a lot to talk about. My quick stop is turning into a bit of break. My Aunt suggests we got get burgers at the place her friend took that she liked so much. So off we go because I love me a good burger. Its was a fantastic little joint with hand made burgers, perfect buns, great fries and pretty waitress. Perfect. And we spent a whole bunch more time. The Ironbutt was out of the question. My Uncle suggested I ride north on SR95. Its runs right up the Idaho panhandle to connects to I-90 AND it runs through my mothers home town where I have many fond memories of my Grammy's house as a child. That would be a good stop and 700 miles is still a good day.
So north I go and see evil black clouds and lightning off to the east - its not in front of me but it will be close by. I get 20 miles north of Moscow (that's moss-coh, not moss-cow), those evil black clouds move west and I get pummeled, just like the morning only with hail and no where to pull off and wait it out. The storm finally slacks off enough that I can at least pull over and add a few layers without soaking them while putting them on. With the dry layers added, I felt much better and rode another 5 miles to find a wonderful little rest stop in exactly the wrong spot to help me. I'm pretty miserable.
I arrive at my mother's childhood home and find that it is still there. I decide to take a picture to send to my mother and the owner comes out, quite indignant that I am taking pictures of her home and demanding an explanation. "It was my Grandmother's at one time," I explain. "Who was your grandmother," still suspicious. So I named my grandmother and saw that storm clear as well. The current owner is the same lady that bought it from my Grammy 31 years ago. We introduced ourselves and chatted and she showed me around the property and I got to remember being six years old, waiting on the bottom stair early in the morning, because I wasn't allowed to come downstairs before my Grammy got up. Then I'd have her all to myself for an hour before the rest of the house started to move around. I'm glad Missoula didn't work out.
Back on the highway and the sun comes back out and I am dry and warm again but starting to feel the length of the day. I stop in Spokane at Denny's for some eggs and rest. I'll be home by midnight and all is well. I take a nice long break, rehydrate, get some protein in my belly and feeling good, head out on the last leg of my trip.
As the sun sets, to my dismay, more thunderheads directly in front of me, I am in quandary. Do I suffer it out and ride three hours cold and wet and be home with my kids tonight, 14 and 11, or pull off get a hotel and leave my kids on their own for the night, my wife being out of town. I decide to ride home. Then the rain hits and my resolve washes away. I turned around at the next exit and headed back to the last hotel I'd seen by the highway and slept warm and dry and the kids survived - they didn't even complain.
I hit the highway with the sun - and the wind. It must have been a 30 mph head wind. I burned a tank of gas in 120 miles doing 73 in 5th gear completely wound out. But I was warm and dry with the sun on my face with the exception of the cloud bank at the top of Snoqualmie and I made it home safe and sound.
It was a great ride. And it looks like it will take as long to read about it as it did to ride it. Thanks if you got this far.
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