Now we were starting the beginning of the Columbia River Gorge. We've heard all kinds of horror stories about how the wind blows through the gorge. We had a mere 33 miles today, just in case we were crawling along against the wind at 5 miles an hour.

I was up extra early, hoping to beat the wind. Another advantage to an early start is beating the heat.

I hadn't gone any distance when I hit a major construction zone. Traffic wasn't heavy and I was allowed to ride through. The road ran between the canyon wall and the river. While I was waiting for my turn, I talked to the flag lady. She was very nice, but let me know I was crazy for being out on the road for fun. She was out there working because she had to, but any sane person wouldn't be on the road due to the dangers. Only that morning one of the flag ladies had been hit by a truck so hard she was knocked over the railing and down onto the railroad tracks. The tracks were a fair distance below.

We hadn't seen many other bicycle tourists on our trip. Perhaps the Lewis and Clark Trail is a bit new and hasn't gained the popularity of the Trans Am. I did see two women this morning going the other direction. They had only rear panniers. I presume they were doing a credit card tour. They looked fairly happy going with the wind. I was fairly happy myself as the wind was not too hard. The road had a few climbs, but I was making good time. Every mile post that I passed, I told myself, "If the wind kicks up, that's one more mile I have under my belt before the wind got bad."

I was stopped a couple of times in the construction as they let traffic go one way or the other. I found out later that the flagger who had been hit was released from the hospital with bad bruises, but no other injuries. Her co-workers were very relieved.

Riding into Umatilla the route dumped us onto a side street down (the key word is DOWN) by the river. Since our campground was by the river, I wasn't alarmed. However, I got to a big dam. It had huge signs all over No Trespassing. Great. What do I do? I didn't want to retrace my steps up the big hill. This was the only road. Now what? I sat there for a fair amount of time wondering if I'd get thrown in jail for proceeding. In the meanwhile a work truck came up the road. I flagged the man down and asked how to get to the campground. He seemed very surprised. "Just keep going." I pointed out all of the big fences with barbed wire and the No Trespassing signs. He laughed and said all of that was installed and enforced after 9/11. Now security had relaxed, don't worry. I rode on in. Oh! How nice. A conveniently located Porta Potty. A bit further down the road I came to a tourist area where one could go in and learn all about the dam. I saw Tom's bicycle parked there. He must have passed me while I was in the potty. I walked around a bit and looked at the exhibits. Tom and I left at the same time. He decided to stop at one of the many grassy areas for his lunch. I continued on, got lost, and got found. I stopped at a tourist bureau and picked up some Oregon maps. I asked the lady where she went to eat and she sent me to the truck stop up the street.

Well. That truck stop did not do it for me. I bought the newspaper and prepared for a leisurely meal. It was early for lunch. I had managed to leave early enough to beat the wind and had arrived at town before noon. I had only a gentle breeze all morning. I ordered a chicken fried steak meal. That is usually a truck stop specialty. Not here. . . . but I did enjoy the air conditioning and read the paper. After an extended stay at the truck stop I was on my way to the campground when I ran into Tom. He stopped to say he was leaving the trip. We had been traveling too slowly for him the past few days. He wanted to put some more miles on while there was no wind. The locals said the forecast was the wind would be picking up. This lack of wind was very atypical. Tom wasn't ready to stop for the day. He'd already checked out the town. There wasn't enough of interest in Umatilla to occupy him for the afternoon, much less for our day off the next day. I was quite shocked at Tom's leaving. He had not expressed any discontent and was always a key part of the evening crowd around the table.

Things were very subdued around the camp that night with everyone mulling over our the loss of a third companion since the trip started. We were now down to nine people.

There was some discussion about giving up our rest day in order to take advantage of the lack of wind. I would have liked to ride the next day, but the majority wanted a day off. Recumbent John said he was going to ride on to Crow's Butte State Park, about 28 miles down the road. He wanted a night alone and wanted to miss the wind. We were all concerned he was also leaving the trip. John ended up taking off late in the afternoon of our day off.

While I would have rathered continued riding, over concern with the wind, I was happy to not have to take my tent down again the next morning and to be able to sleep in.

Once I got to camp, I hadn't cycled anywhere. Ryan and Smoker John had been back and forth to town a couple of times. Both of them took short cuts through the weeds to the road. Both had MANY goat head stickers in their tires. I left my bike parked until time to ride out. When I did leave, I was careful to go right down the tire track of the road. I didn't get any goat heads.

We had very, very delicious pizza ordered from a local pizza place. Ryan was very good at sweet talking people and always getting us bargins on the campground. He used his wiles on getting a discount on the pizzas. There was enough for snacks later also.

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