July 28, 2006
Day 57: Grangeville, ID to New Meadows, ID
79.94 Miles, 7:10:14 Ride Time, 11.32 Average Speed, 32.8 Maximum Speed
This morning I was finally able to get up almost as early as I intended. I left the motel at about 6:00 (Mountain Time - I decided to ignore the fact that I was in Pacific Time in Grangeville, since I would be switching back to Mountain Time later today anyway).
It wasn't completely light outside yet, so I stopped at a convenience store for some snacks to take with me, and killed about ten minutes there.
I rode out of town on US 95. My maps directed me to turn left onto Old White Bird Hill Road in about four miles, which would take me up and over the infamously steep White Bird Hill - one of the steepest grades on the TransAmerica Trail since Kentucky, I had read. Apparently the road wasn't marked, because I missed the turn (cynics may assume that I subconsciously wanted to avoid climbing the steep hill...)
I continued up the (still pretty steep) hill on US 95, and when I got to the top, was greeted with a collection of several signs warning truck drivers about the steep (7% grade) downhill. It was probably the longest, steepest downhill since Mt. Vesuvius in Virginia, and it was longer - about eight miles.
I actually found it hard to enjoy the descent, since I was a little worried about the trucks behind me - I passed three runaway truck ramps on the way down. As I did coming down Vesuvius several weeks ago, I stopped a couple of times to let my rims cool off.
When I got to the bottom, the landscape had changed. Everything was brown again - the wheat and hay fields I had seen in Grangeville had disappeared. I stopped at a cafe for my usual pancakes and Diet Pepsi, and asked the people there about the fire in the Oxbow area. They didn't seem to know anything about it, even though I had heard that it was the biggest fire in the country...
After I left the cafe, I started a long, slow descent into the gorge along the Salmon River. This was reminiscent of a couple of days ago when I rode into Idaho down the even longer gorge along the Lochsa River. As before, the scenery was appealing in a rugged way, but would become rather oppressive after a while. I saw groups of people rafting in the white waters in the river to my right, and their excited voices easily carried up to the road where I was riding by myself; I started to brood a little about how lonely it could become riding for days and days by oneself, through this often empty landscape.
The road widened a little at tiny Lucile, where I stopped at the restaurant. I wasn't really hungry; I just felt like getting off the bike for a few minutes. I sat at the counter where the busy but cheerful young waitress set a large pitcher of ice water in front of me. When she returned I ordered a piece of lemon meringue pie, which was cold and very good. She told me I could fill up my water bottles with the ice water, and handed me a rag, "in case you spill any." I managed to fill my bottles without making a mess on the counter (to her apparent surprise), and as I got up to leave, she said "You're hired!"
After that pleasant interlude, I continued to ride through the gorge, another ten miles or so to Riggins (pop. 410). Virtually everything in Riggins seemed to center on white water rafting, fishing, and related activities. There was a Forest Service ranger station in town, so I stopped there to see what they knew about the fire near Oxbow. The information I got was frustratingly vague, and I left without a clear answer as to whether I could continue on my route tomorrow.
It was now hot and windy as I started to climb up out of the gorge; I was about 35 miles from New Meadows, my destination for the day, and most of that would be uphill.
After about ten miles, I spotted another cyclist stopped on the side of the road, and pulled over to talk to him. He was an older man from Holland, riding from Virginia to Oregon like me. He was pulling a trailer with a massive amount of stuff piled on it, and had the scruffy look of someone who was "rough camping", a fact that he verified when I asked where he had stayed yesterday (He told me he had slept on the ground somewhere). He was the first cyclist I had seen who was shirtless... one way to avoid the drastic "farmer's tan", I suppose, but not really a good look, to say the least...
I noticed that he wasn't using the Adventure Cycling maps; instead, he had photocopied pages out of the Donna Ikenberry book, which had last been revised in 1996, I believe (I have a copy of it at home, and didn't think it was useful enough to bring on the trip). Obviously, this guy was doing things his own way, and I wasn't surprised when he told me he hadn't heard about the fire...
He was slower than me (he had left Yorktown on May 24th, to my June 2nd), and I quickly left him behind and continued climbing into the hot wind.
I had just swallowed the last of the disgustingly warm water from my bottles when I finally climbed out of the gorge. The last five miles to New Meadows were through pleasant, open fields, and as always, my mood improved markedly during the last few miles after a long, hard day.
When I got to New Meadows (pop. 533), I immediately stopped at the convenience store and bought two 32 oz. Gatorades, which I drank on the spot, one after the other.
The town's two motels were near the convenience store. I had forgotten which of the two I had reserved a room at, so I went to the closest first; of course, it wasn't the right one, as I learned after talking to the lady there. I crossed the street to the Hartland Inn, where Kevin, the nice young guy who owned the place (he and his wife had apparently bought it fairly recently) finally provided accurate information about the fire: The road was closed, and I would have to find a detour.
After I checked into my room and cleaned up, I went back to the lobby, where Kevin had printed out a couple of alternative routes for me from the mapping software on his computer.
I walked through the town looking for a place for dinner, and settled on the Sagebrush, where I had the fish and chips while I looked over the maps.
I saw the Dutch guy's bike and trailer parked outside the convenience store, and went in to tell him about the road closure, but couldn't find him. He seemed much more resourceful than me, so I was sure he would figure something out...
Later I went back to my room and used the wireless internet connection for a while, wasting quite a bit of time trying to find a way back on the TransAmerica Trail from Weiser, that didn't involve riding on Interstate 84. Finally I just decided to worry about it tomorrow, and went to bed.
Today's ride: 80 miles (129 km)
Total: 3,687 miles (5,934 km)
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