Elma to South Bend, Washington: Dodie's Triumph

December 11, 2012

We started the day with two good boosts.

First, our motel - the only one in Elma - was upscale enough to feature that common US motel "continental breakfast". That means plain doughy bagels, English muffins, and other toastables, cereal, "juice", do it yourself waffles, and suchlike. It's all basic low quality, but to us cyclists who think their room is a palace (compared to the tent), it's a banquet. Of course, we made sure to pop some spares into the pannier, so we left in really good shape.

The second boost came from Highway 12. This is a flat out Interstate quality freeway. The four lanes are divided, and the shoulder is not only as wide as a British road, but it is guarded by a wide rumble strip. To top it off, the road is flat all the way from Elma to the highway 107 cutoff towards 101. That was about 16 km that we could just fly down. Even with a light drizzle, and many logging trucks throwing up spray, it was great.

Once we got onto 107, a short cutoff that leads to 101, things got a little tougher. The road is fairly narrow and fairly hilly. Now also a full rain began. We are ok with rain and hills, in theory, since we have rain clothes and low gears. So we plodded gamely on, and reached the junction with 101. 101 at this point cuts inland between Gray's Harbor and Willapa Bay. It climbs into replanted forest land, going up and down a series of long hills. It's at least 27 kilometers with no services, and actually no structures once you pass the Arctic RV park.

No structures means no rain shelter of any kind, and now the rain became heavy and wind blown. The continual logging trucks added spray and noise. But we are ready for rain, wind, hills, spray, noise, right? Well yes. On the other hand, certain equipment becomes crabby about it after one hour, two hours, three hours, four hours. For example, our super duper costly REI insulated waterproof gloves that survived our one minute test under water in the sink, turned into wet noodles after a few hours of wind driven spray.

Our Merino socks, that keep you warm even when wet, don't succeed with that for ever. Our Eddie Bauer rain jackets and our rain pants don't leak, but water wicks around them at the neck, cuffs, etc. and then climbs inside. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, on a steepish hill with trucks whizzing by, I found that I was tapping my reserve of strength and determination. With that realization my thoughts turned to Dodie. She is mentally strong but physically it is I that can take more punishment. Indeed, she was wet, cold, and tired. But, she is determined, and just kept going.

At length Dodie announced that she could not feel her feet. Mine were the same, but hands, though cold and wet were still working. A lady in an SUV pulled over to us two drowned rats and asked if we would like a lift. We thanked her but declined. We didn't come here to ride in SUVs.

Just when we entered Raymond, the rain and wind intensified. There had been absolutely no place to even drink the hot soup in our thermos, and we were really frozen. Our target was Chen's Motel in South Bend, still 6 km away. Dodie did not stop, even bypassing the McDonalds. I knew what she was thinking - stop now and it would be impossible to get going again. So on we went. We can't show you what Raymond was like, or even much of South Bend. The camera had to hide in the Ortlieb bag. Even 10 seconds outside would soak it.

We can say that Raymond, which seems to be a mill town, has made an effort with lots of sculptures, a historic downtown, a farmers' market. We didn't see much of it. From Raymond to South Bend (an oyster capital, like Hoodsport) there were the evocative smells of fish fertiliser, cedar milling, and woodsmoke. These really define the area.

Chen's Motel is an offshoot of Chen's chinese restaurant. The restaurant is the real thing - family run, with lots of steam in the kitchen. I went in to roust out someone to show us to a motel room, while Dodie froze with the bikes.

At last we were ushered in to a room - ground floor with cover for the bikes, and handed a stack of extra towels and rags. We took off our things one by one and surveyed the damage. Almost everything was soaked. We hung it all all over the place and popped Dodie in a bath. Her feet were red, but ok. More to the point, she is not quitting, and never mentioned it. Wow.

We missed the London olympics, but I am awarding a medal to Dodie for this one.

Highway 12 was big and brash, but gave us a niceboost

At Montesano, a mill produces cedar boards. The smell of cedar suffuses the place.

A "Burma Shave" explains the landscape up on 101

Fir planting looks like a great U-Cut for Christmas.

At rare points, pushing, but always still going.

As much of South Bend as we have seen so far.

Today's ride: 69 km (43 miles)
Total: 334 km (207 miles)

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