July 15, 2005
Umatilla, OR - North Roosevelt, WA: An oasis!
I was up and at'em early, hoping to beat the infamous Columbia River Gorge wind. The sky still had a bit of pink to it from the sunrise. I got temporarily lost right away trying to find the bike path entrance to cross the bridge over to Washington. Once I managed that I was on the way. We were routed onto back country roads. The land was nice and green, with the river so close by for irrigation. It was mostly a gradual uphill for eight miles to Hwy 14. I was still early enough there wasn't much traffic. The road did have a good shoulder. At mile 20 for the day, I saw Crow Butte State Park. That is where Tom and Recumbent John both spent the night, although on different nights. It was across a little bridge on an island. I debated seeing if Recumbent John was still there, but pressed on instead. I was happy that the wind had yet to come up and was trying to get as many miles on as possible before it did.
The terrain undulated and the country had more sagebrush. It reminded me of areas of Colorado and Utah.
By mile 35 the wind had kicked up enough to be an annoyance. Big time. It was hot and windy. Every time a semi came by I had to take a good grip on the handlebars. At some point, Recumbent John caught up to me. I was happy to see him, that he really did rejoin us. He said he just needed a bit of solitude. As a single man, John's used to lots of quiet time.
He and I ground out the miles together to town. We agreed we were happy to have a low profile into the headwind with our recumbents. A side wind, with my long bike and trailer is another story. But from the front, especially with my fairing, I'm in good shape.
We could see some buildings far in the distance. We agreed to stop at the first place we saw that served food and get out of the wind. Ha. We stopped at the only place that was open. The local bar. We were the only patrons. We both ordered sandwiches and ice water. That was the most rotten, horrible, bad attitude waitress I have ever, ever had. She must have been the owner. I can't imagine her having a job if she were the employee. I tried to chit chat with her and soften her up, no go. We would have really liked an entire pitcher of ice water, but she was very grudging with the glasses we had and took forever to refill them after our request. I thought she was going to refuse to fill my camelbak. I was almost intimidated into not asking, so poor was her attitude, but I really did need the water. It appeared we weren't quite into town.
I asked John why he didn't stop and pick up the giant soup pot by the side of the road. He hadn't even seen it. It wasn't too far back, I debated returning for it, but I was already toting one soup pot. Plus this one looked like it was a super huge industrial soup pot. Way too big. I enjoy passing the time by imagining how some 'road kill' items get by the side of the road. At one point I had found a can opener. I carried it for a fair distance and then decided to carefully place it on the white line for Smoker John to find. Smoker John was delighted when he had a good road kill item to show us in camp. He always saved everything, adding to his already full load. He did not see the can opener I left for him. He did not see the soup pot either. I told him he needed a recumbent, the view is better. Smoker John wasn't buying into that.
When Recumbent John and I were almost finished at the bar, Bob came staggering in and bought a Gatorade. We sat and chatted with him a bit. We all agreed the wind was less than fun, we were glad we'd gotten an early start and had only 15 miles of wind. Typically Bob and Robert ride together, but not today.
We rode on into town - which was only 5-6 buildings. Ryan had told us ahead of time to be sure and visit the little general store, that the owner loves cyclists and keeps a log for everyone to sign. She was very kind. She gets an extra plus from me for having a large bookcase of free books.
We sat outside in the heat. I had a cold Gatorade and the guys had ice cream. A man stopping by asked us if we were camping there. When we replied yes, he said we should go on down to the park as the shade was much cooler. Down, down the road we went. It was nice along the river with large cottonwood trees. There were many campers there. Windsurfers. We chatted with quite a few. They said Roosevelt was the windsurfing capital of the world. They were disappointed because the wind wasn't strong enough for surfing this afternoon (!!!). They were hoping it would be up to steam in the morning.
Everyone wandered in. I took a quarter shower and set up my tent close to the building out of the wind. First come, first serve on good tent spots. We had a covered pavilion to cook and eat in. Everyone was there but Robert. Hmmm, Robert was usually one of the last ones out of camp in the morning and one of the last in camp. Ryan's rule was to call his cell phone if you weren't going to be in by 6 PM. 6 PM came and went. Ryan tried calling Robert. No answer. The puzzling part was that Robert had left ahead of several other people. They had arrived in camp but he wasn't there. Where would he have gone? Really we traveled only one road most of the day, Hwy 14. Hmmm. We ate, being careful to save Robert his share. We were almost finished when here he came.
Robert is in his 50's. He's an immigrant from Poland. Robert has done quite well in the US as a banker. He is very, very fluent in English. Robert kept us all entertained with his description of his day. He had stopped at Crow's Butte State Park looking for water. The river looked so nice that Robert decided to take a nap down on the beach. When he woke up several hours later, the wind was really, really blowing. There was no water to be found to drink. Robert struggled on like a man through the desert toward the mirage. He never thought he would arrive. You should have been there to hear him drag out his story with many smiles. I don't think he was smiling at the time. As a side note, Robert also stopped at the bar. He found the waitress to be very congenial. Maybe it had something to do with Robert's dimples.
I was in bed before 9 PM, planning a very, very early departure to beat the wind. We would be getting deep into the gorge from here on. I wasn't interested in experiencing any more of the Columbia River Gorge's famous wind.
Today's ride: 51 miles (82 km)
Total: 894 miles (1,439 km)
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