Kitchen uniform? Love the electric skillet. It really dates the photo. My mom had a somewhat larger one of those.

Fun read.

And I've seen them all (in the last half century). My first trip across the pass was in 1972 when the family moved from Richland to Bremerton. I can't think of trip when there wasn't a construction project. It's a much easier trip now.

You can’t ride the shoulder of I-90 now, of course. There have been a few changes in the last half century.

Having traveled Snoqualmie Pass countless times, gobsmacked my be the best way to describe my reaction to your ride. To quote Vizzini, inconceivable!

Now you got me thinking, but no photos... Wished I had a camera back then so many times, but not till 1970 I got one. Well I would not have had the money for film even with a camera anyway.

But that's another long series of stories I could tell, and yes, I have been told I should write a book... But I know several who have written and published and ended up in the hole with boxes of perfectly good, interesting books that nobody wants. Only 2 have made a little money.

Also, if this is your bike trip, I would write that story and publish it here. People would be delighted to read it, and it might trigger their own memories of their first tours. Maybe Rich will pick his brain about his ride up the California Coast and share it some day.

Isn’t it amazing what’s there to bring back if you just find the right trigger? I feel so lucky to have found this one, and even luckier to have found the journal of the ride around Mount Saint Helens. Up next.

I could write a short story about it, but that would be too long to post.
4th of July on the beach with a campfire, grunion hunting, camping in the desert on my way home, riding over the coast range both directions, coasting downhill into Quartz hill at terrifying speeds and so much more!

The memories you have triggered!!

I almost mentioned the first, better known
Huxley College. That was my thought when I first heard about the school, and of course it was a source of humor for the students at the college too - such few as there were that early in the college’s existence. I think there were six of us in the Environmental Enginerring program, and I think only two professors. Bert Webber taught the air pollution and other courses, and I can’t quite remember the man who taught wastewater engineering, but after class I’d sometimes go play handball with him.

It’s surprising how many of us have coming of age bike stories like this. Bill Shaneyfelt shared his own from the Mojave Desert in an earlier comment here. I feel so fortunate to have written so much of it down and then found it.

I had to look it up to be sure, but Huxley College is the name of the institution of higher learning in the Marx Brothers movie “Horsefeathers”. A remarkable parallel. The name just made me laugh, and now I know why. :)

Another remarkable parallel - in the summer of 1972, 2 friends and I embarked on my first bike tour. I was 17. We rode from Los Angeles to San Francisco along the California coast, camping in state parks. I had a set of pictures until they got lost several years ago, but didn’t keep a journal. I wish I could recreate the tour as you’ve done here. Great job of journaling and hanging onto your history!!

Really enjoying reading these autobiographical reflections.

I love your pictures of Independence and Hoosier passes! We've summited both of those on past tandem tours. Coming down into Aspen was quite the experience. I think the name of the model of our recumbent - Screamer - was appropriate as I was probably screaming the whole way! Our rear wheel drag brake helped us slow down but we had to stop multiple times to let it cool off.

Interesting how similar our lives played out. I was born 11 months earlier than you, and the summer before my senior year ('63) I just decided to ride my bike (a 26 inch lightweight bargain barn coaster brake bike with a handlebar basket that I cobbled to the rear that held my sleeping bag and half gallon plastic Clorox bottle (water) and some food) to the closest beach. Rode it 86 miles from Mojave, CA to the little town of Piru the first day where I slept in the town park. Second day was 35 miles to Ventura, where I stayed a couple nights on the beach and then rode back in 3 days. No tent, no extra clothes, no map. Found out decades later that after I was gone, my parents got into a big argument about who "allowed" me to go... :-) Heck, I was only 6 months from being an 18 year old "adult"!

Coming soon. I just finished Andalucia, and I brought Bellingham down with me to start in on next.