We're leaving on a four day microtour shortly. This evening we'll help celebrate my mother's 93rd birthday at a dinner in Seattle. Ordinarily we drive up for events like these, but this time we're leaving the car home and taking Amtrak. Tonight we'll stay over in a downtown motel and then in the morning start a three day bike ride up to Bellingham and take the Amtrak back to Portland at the end.
Oh, and one other thing about this ride: it's a celebration. Today's our 29th anniversary!
Taking the Amtrak to Seattle is very easy. The coast line has roll-on bike service now (reserve in advance, $5/bike), so you just roll up to the baggage car, unload your luggage, and hand the bike up to the baggage handler.
We biked over to our neighborhood Amtrak station (which, happily for us is about 6 blocks from home) and caught the 8:20 train to Seattle. Very simple, since we had booked our tickets and reserved bike space online. I think it's shameful that our country has such sparse train service, but we're lucky to live so close to such network that exists. The ride up was smooth and relaxing - far more pleasant than driving.
We arrived in Seattle a bit after noon refreshed and relaxed, and left the station for a short loop of Magnolia Bluff and Ballard before checking in to our downtown lodging at the Belltown Inn. We've biked a few times over the years up on Magnolia, and walked or driven there many time - my parents lived there for about twenty years, and we would sometimes go on walks through the neighborhood with them when we were up visiting. We've hardly ever spent time in Ballard though, and today we saw parts of it that were new to both of us.
This part of the city, like so much of Seattle, is spectacular - one gorgeous scenic overlook after another. If you don't mind the crowds, traffic and cost of living, Seattle is really hard to beat. The highlight of the ride was visit to the Ballard Locks, which mediate navigation between Elliott Bay and Lake Washington through the ship canal. Today was an ideal time to visit: the weather could scarcely have been better; the sockeye salmon run is at its peak; and this week marks the 100th anniversary of opening of the locks and a celebration is in progress.
Father and Son, one of the works in the Olympic Sculpture Park. Only the father is visible at the moment from this angle - the son is at the center of the left fountain.
The light isn't the best for this shot, but I wanted to remember the madrona trees on Magnolia Boulevard. The boulevard is really beautiful, lined with elegant brick homes with elegant manicured gardens, overlooking Elliott Bay, the Olympics and downtown. For many years, after I had moved off to college, my parents had a home a few blocks from here.
Discovery Park is a large public area at the north end of Magnolia Bluff. It has nice walking paths and great viewpoints across Elliot Bay. I didn't take any photos of that though, for some reason. Here, we're coasting down through the green, wooded north slope toward the ship canal.
The Ballard Locks, at the west end of the Lake Washington Ship Canal. This week is the Locks' 100th anniversary. There are festivities underway, and large crowds milling around enjoying the weather and watching the salmon run. These are the busiest locks in the country, with over 40,000 vessels passing through annually.
The Salmon Bay Bridge, built by Burlington Northern in 1914 and now part of the BNSF line connecting Seattle and Everett. It's a single leaf Bascule design - the only instance of this design I know of. It's a special treat to get to see it up - it was being raised just as we biked past it. In the foreground, gillnetters from the Suquamish tribe fish for their share of the salmon run, under treaty rights dating back to 1855. Today, the salmon runs here and elsewhere in Washington are comanaged by the department of fisheries and various tribes protected under the treaty.
The sockeye salmon are running, returning home to spawn and die after their years on the open sea. Just ahead waits the challenging climb through the fish ladder beside the locks. July is Sockeye month, with a few thousand fish per day coming through during the peak. August is Chinook season, and November brings the Coho (silvers). I think there is a steelhead run also. Altogether, the number of fish per year passing through the ladder is in the hundreds of thousands.
Believe it or not, there's a salmon in the middle of this cascade, fighting his way up. He's on the right, over the top, near the wall. It's hard to get the timing right for a shot. Nothing happens for several minutes, and then suddenly this huge fish leaps from the water and starts thrashing uphill against the current.
I wish I had been quicker on the draw here. When I first saw this charming couple, the reader was hoding her book straight in front of her and the dog had its head buried into it. It looked like she was reading it a bedtime story.
Later, we walked down to Pioneer Square to my mother's favorite restaurant to help celebrate her 93rd birthday. Mom is doing great - very active, in good health, very sharp. It was a fine gathering, with nearly all of the immediate family present. It's a classy Italian restaurant, and at the conclusion of the meal they brought out a tiramisu cake with a candle in it for her, and we all sang happy birthday.
To our delight, they then brought out a second one and dropped it between Rocky and me, in honor of our anniversary. I ate my share, but all the honor and credit goes to her - I still find it amazing to have found someone who has put up with me for all these years. Im a lucky guy.
In the evening we walked down from our Belltown motel to Pioneer Square for the birthday dinner. Downtown Seattle has quite a dramatic skyline with many attractive, interesting skyscrapers. It's so different than when I grew up here and the 42 story Smith Tower dwarfed everything else around.
on our way back to our inn we drove past the great wheel on the waterfront. It's a pretty spectacular sight when it's lit up at night, so I snapped a photo as we drove past. It didn't come out quite as I'd expected though.
A very beautiful day. If this is any indication, our thirtieth year together is going to be amazing. We began with a walk back downtown to have breakfast with my parents and sister, and then back to e inn to pack up and depart. By about 10 we were on the road - plenty early, because we have a fairly short and easy ride ahead of us today.
Today's ride began with a reprise of yesterday's: along Elliott Bay through Myrtle Edwards Park, and then along Magnolia Bluff. We're repeating this route because it looks like the most pleasant route north from the CBD, but I was happy to do it again also because I somehow failed to take any waterfront photos yesterday.
Looking across Elliott Bay to the Olympic Mountains from Myrtle Edwards Park.
Dropping off the bluff to the ship canal, we skipped crossing over the Ballard Locks. It was a pretty crazy scene yesterday, and probably even worse today because there is a parade on the schedule, one of the festivities to commemorate the hundredth anniversary of the opening of the locks. Instead, we biked along the south side for a few miles, crossing over at the Fremont Bridge.
We've really been lucky in our timing of this short tour - not only is the weather spectacular, but there is a lot going on. This morning, we get to witness the commemorative fleet passing through the locks a a reenactment of the great fleet that passed through 100 years ago when the locks first opened. It's really a thrilling spectacle, with one prestigious vessel after another passing through the narrow canal, each with a crew and friends on the deck beaming and waving to the crowds like beauty queens on parade floats.
One of the spectators kindly handed Rachael a commemorative brochure for the event. It includes photos and life histories of some of the more prestigious vessels, so we had a better understanding of what we were seeing. It looks like we came in at about the middle, which is a shame - I'd love to have seen the great schooner that was the spearhead for the fleet.
The fleet is in! Part of the centennial celebration, this a reenactment of the first fleet that passed through the ship canal when it opened in 1917. The opening of the locks, after completion of engineering work with origins that went back fifty years, was a major event in Seattle's history. According to the city newspapers, one half of the city's entire population turned out to witness the passing of the fleet.
The Gyrfalcon, built in 1941 for the US Coast and Geodetic Survey. This vessel, like all of the others featured in the procession, were at some point in their history based in Lake Union.
The Haida canoe Steve Philip, carved from a 700 year old red cedar log in 2006 and donated to the Center for Wooden Boats by the Haida people. I believe the man in the rear is Saaduuts, theartist-in-residence at the center who led hundreds of visitors and children in carving the canoe.
The Puget, a US Army Corps of Engineers vessel. Built in 1944 with an original mission to pick up airplanes out of the water, now it 'picks up stuff', in the colorful description from the commemorative brochure.
The 133 foot long, 104 year old Adventuress was the first ship in the parade, but sadly it was long gone by the time we happened along. It's a prestigious ship as well as elegant one: it is one of only two west coast ships listed as a national historic landmark. The Adventuress is standing in for the SS Roosevelt, the ship which led the original parade in 1917. The Roosevelt was built originally for use in Admiral Peary's arctic expeditions. Downloaded from the net
After the last of the fleet passed by and the crowds started dispersing, we moved on. Rachael was just beginning to speculate about what we should do for lunch when we crossed the Fremont Bridge and landed in the middle of the immense Fremont Sunday Market. After satiating ourselves on tamales and corn on the cob, we hopped on the Burke-Gilman Trail and followed it north along the shore of Lake Washington for about 15 miles, finally leaving it near the north end of the lake.
Anyone familiar with cycling in Seattle is familiar with the Burke-Gilman Trail, the spinal cord of Seattle's fine network of dedicated cycle trails. One of the earliest and most heavily used rail-to-trails conversions in the country, it follows the route of the old Seattle, Lakeshore and Eastern Railway (established in 1885 by judge Thomas Burke and Daniel Gilman). The first section of the trail opened in 1978, several years after I had moved to Oregon; so I've only ridden it a few times. I'm intimately familiar with the route though, because it passes within a few blocks of my home during my junior high and high school years. The rail line was still in occasional use then, and I spent hundreds of miles walking the rails on the way to school or picking blackberries. Biking it today is a nostalgi experience and brings back many memories of my youth.
We split from the Burke-Gilman Trail in Lake Forest Park and begin making our way northwest across north Seattle's suburbs. It's a pretty inconsistent ride quality-wise, linking together routes through residential neighborhoods, the nice paved Interurban Trail (another rail-trail conversion), busy, shoulderless arterials and a well shouldered highway. We arrived at our motel on the waterfront next to the waterfront about five - just in time to check into our room and walk next door to Ivan's fish house for a delicious meal overlooking the bay.
We were just thinking we might like something to eat when we crossed the Fremont Bridge and found ourselves in the midst of the huge Fremont Sunday Market. great! With lots to choose from, we settled on ears of corn and chicken tamales.
The beautiful Fremont Bridge is one of three draw (bascule) bridges spanning the ship canal and nearby waters. In addition to this and the BNSF bridge we saw yesterday, there are also the Ballard and University Bridges. All of them have been up when we've passed them yesterday or today, and traffic of course has been a mess.
This is a section of the Burke-Gilman Trail, a wonderful route that follows the ship canal and then continues north along the edge of Lake Washington. The most heavily used bikeway in the city, it was created in 1971 after the abandonment of an old train line. It is one of the oldest rail-to-trail conversions in the country. I have a particular attachment to this specific section, between NE 65th and 70th Streets. About a third of a mile long, it was a part of my twice-daily three mile walk between home and my junior high school. It was still a rail line then, and I challenged myself by walking on the rail, trying to keep my balance for the entire distance. By the end I was often successful, as long as a train didn't come through.
Matthews Beach, on Lake Washington - another spot I remember from my youth. In the distance you can make out what I think are Mount Si and the entrance to Stevens Pass.
We've never overnighted in Mukilteo before, but based on this experience I'd sure do this again. We stayed at the Silver Cloud Inn, a bit of a splurge - but it was worth it to have a spot right on the waterfront, just feet from the ferry terminal. It was really pleasant to sit in the lounge/breakfast area last night and this morning, watching ferries come and go and the sun set and rise over the bay, dashing outside off and on to feel the wind and waves and break out the camera.
The Mukilteo light, installed in 1906. I took several shots of it last night around sunset but was unhappy with them because the lighthouse was backlit and too dark. This one is from this morning, when I walked back over to it again before breakfast.
The Whidbey Island ferry arrives in Mukilteo. This is a very easy ferry to plan for if you're on foot or bike, because one departs every half hour during daylight hours. Not so much if you take your car though - the waiting times can be horrendous. The fishermen run a pretty complete schedule also - they were on the dock when I came in at sundown last night, and were already at their posts when I went out this morning at. 6:30.
The lighthouse and associated buildings, from the ferry: on the left is the light keeper's residence, and on the right is the assistant lightkeepers'. All date to the original development in 1906.
It's a long and winding road from Clinton, the ferry port on Whidbey Island across the narrow channel from Mukilteo, to Deception Pass Bridge at the north end. The island island is huge, really - it's the fourth largest island in the continental United States (or third, depending on the reference - there's some uncertainty about Padre Island, the huge barrier reef off the coast of Texas). The most efficient ride from Clinton to the north follows Highway 520 the whole way end is 48 miles, with 2500 feet of climbing - and Clinton isn't even at the south end of the island.
Highway 520 isn't a particularly good ride though - it's less scenic, staying mostly to the interior; and it carries a surprisingly heavy traffic burden for an island road. We're not here to be efficient though so our route sticks to minor roads along the coast as much as possible. It's longer and much hillier.. By the time we reach the north end of the island tomorrow we will log 80 miles and nearly 5,0000 feet of climbing without ever gaining any real elevation.
If you're not following the highway, there are several route options to choose from. The last time we were up here we explored the southwest corner of the island, along Useless Bay. If you haven't been here before, I'd probably go there first, and through Fort Casey further north. We're exploring new roads today though, and follow the east side.
The ride experience this morning is typical of many coastal island rides - very green, hilly, lush roadside vegetation, evergreen forests, and only occasional views of the water. For the most part, roads are far enough back from the water and the cliffs that you see the water in the distance, through stands of doucglas fir and red cedar or in the clearings at the end of long driveways leading to private estates. The best views available to the public come when you arrive at a coastal village, boat landing or public park.
It is an especially fine ride this Monday morning - the weather is ideal and there is very little traffic. Much nicer than arriving on the weekend. One of the rewards is wildlife sightings - we saw deer in the road several times today, including a pair of still spotty fawns. One was especially charming - we only saw its mother at first, surprising us by standing still on the shoulder of the road staring us down for the longest time. We finally looked to our right and saw why - it was waiting on its youngster, trapped behind some fencing. Finally the little guy found his legs and bounded off, with his mother soon melting off into the trees after it.
On the east side of Whidbey Island, north of Clinton. We crossed back and forth between the east and west sides several times today. The east seems generally greener and more forested, with tall, dense fir/cedar forest broken by secluded homes. The west side is a bit drier and more open. Both sides are quite hilly. We logged 4,400' of elevation gain today, never rising over 500'. Reminds me a bit of southern Iowa, but with better pavement and no traffic.
This salmon is the end of a larger, totem-pole like carving of an old snag. Nice carving, and I like the colors - with the reddish orange it looks like a sockeye.
Here's the complete Sculpture. I didn't notice at the time, but there's a second salmon at the bottom, and they're fighting upstream. It's a nice thing to see after viewing the sockeye run at the Ballard Locks Sunday.
A northwestern crow, holding a stationary position for a surprisingly long time. Rachael commented on how small it was, and I said it was a northwestern crow - a different species that doesn't make it down to Oregon, and is about 20% smaller than the common crow (which is true, not one of my typical dumb jokes). No, she says - it's much smaller than that.
Oh, THAT crow. This little guy is just a baby, hopping weakly on the grass and squawking piteously. The poor thing is too undeveloped to fly, and must have tumbled from the nest. Both parents are attentively standing guard. Crows are tough animals, and very smart. We're betting that the parents have this under control, and will nurture it on the ground until it's wings develop.
Downtown Langley, a charming village on the southeast coast. It has some restaurants and lodging, and looks like it would be a great place to sleep over. Maybe next time.
We broke up the day's ride by having deli sandwiches at Wifire Coffee Bar at Freeland, a crossroads community on the highway. After that we crossed over to the west side, continuing our way north for another fifteen miles before crossing over again at Greenland. We didn't stop in today, but if you come this way it's well worth dropping down to South Whidbey State Park for a look at the beach and bay.
On the east side again, more of the same until we arrive at Coupeville, the historic harbor town on the north end of the island. The last time we biked Whidbey we stayed in Coupeville and can recommend it. Coupeville is toward the west end of Penn Cove, a large inlet that nearly splits the island. Today the cove is filled with sailboats, racing east with a stiff breeze - it's the first day of Race Week, a premier racing event.
We could have stayed in Coupeville today also, but we elected to continue on another twelve miles to much larger Oak Harbor, the commercial center of the island. We did this partly because we wanted to shorten tomorrow's ride to Bellingham, and partly because accommodation is cheaper and we'd already had our splurge for the trip in Mukilteo. Doing it over though, I'd probably stay in Coupeville again. Oak Harbor is OK, but far busier and grittier.
We stayed tonight at the Coachman Inn, a motel about a mile and a half north of the harbor. We planned to bike down to the harbor for dinner, but as Rachael wheeled out of the room she realized her front tire was flat. Annoying, but it's always nice when this happens at the end of a ride instead of on the road. It will have to wait for the morning - time for dinner, and it's close enough to walk to.
Ocean spray grows wild on the island, and is a prolific species. We've been cycling past it all day long.
It's Race Week! Today is the opening day of Oak Harbor Race Week, the premier sailboat racing event in the northwest. Penn Cove, the narrow inlet that separates Coupeville and Oak Harbor and nearly bisects the island, was filled with sailboats when we arrived. For 35 years, thousands of sailors have made their way to this world class sailing event.
The Coupeville wharf, is the pride of the town and its most prominent symbol. Mostly dedicated to farming and tourism now, Coupeville was originally a port town and the distribution point for goods shipped between the island and the mainland.
the day began with some good news - my patch to Rachael's flat tire held up. Now, hopefully, it will also hold up through the ride ahead. I was unable to find the cause of the puncture last night, which is always worrisome. Hopefully there's not still something there that will reflatten it.
Our ride began with the remaining nine miles on the island to its north end at Deception Pass. We rode Highway 520 the whole way, which was busy but safe - there is a good, abundant shoulder the whole way. Looking at the map again now though, I think this was a routing mistake. We could have had a quieter, more scenic ride by veering off onto side roads like Henni and Monkey Hill without adding any real distance.
We'll, quieter as in there would be less road traffic. Actually though, it was a pretty deafening ride for several miles. The northwest corner of the island is dominated by the Whidbey Island Naval Air Station, and this morning fighter jets are taking off and roaring over our heads. I think I counted at least ten of them as we rode past the base - as soon as the sound of one would taper off, another blast would shatter the sky. It must be awful for the residents up here.
North of Whidbey is Fidalgo Island, separated by very narrow Deception Pass and joined by the very narrow Deception Pass Bridge. The pass got its name from Captain George Vancouver, who at first was fooled into believing that Whidbey Island was a peninsula. It isn't apparent on most maps, but there are actually two passes (Deception Pass and Canoe Pass) and two bridges here, separated by tiny Pass Island.
The information board at the south end of the bridge. I wonder how old this plaque is, and when it was discovered that Whidbey Island is actually only the third or fourth largest island in the continental US. presumably this is referring to Long Island as the largest, but Isle Royale in Lake Superior is also larger. There is some ambiguity about Padre Island, the huge barrier island off the coast of Texas - some references list it as larger, and some do not.
Sorry about the glare, but there's a lot of interesting information here about the bridge and it's history. It's worth reading, if for no other reason than to learn about Berte Olson.
I believe I have only biked across this bridge once before. Way back in 1973, in the summer after I graduated from college, my brother, a friend and I set off on an aborted ride from Bellingham to San Francisco. This was the first real bike tour of my life, but my brother bailed out just after Whidbey Island for personal reasons, and Alan and I stopped in Salem when he was ready to call it quits (I've always regretted not continuing on my own, but it didn't feel like the right thing to do at the time).
I've thought about this tour many times over the years, but surprisingly enough I had forgotten about this bridge. As soon as I saw it today, the memories came back. I've never crossed a bridge quite like it. It is so narrow and traffic laden that you really can't bike it safely unless you've come at a time of day when traffic is light. Today though it is out of the question - who wants an angry line of cars, campers and trucks backed up behind you? - so we pushed our bikes on way-too-narrow the pedestrian walkway.
The bridge isn't the worst of it though. On the Fidalgo Island side, the shoulder almost completely disappears as the road snakes through a narrow passage lined by rocky cliffs. There's just not enough room for the road, unless they start blasting away at the cliffs someday. It's only a half mile until the turnoff to a side road, but that was plenty long enough. Rachael was wondering if we'd make it to our thirtieth anniversary after all. It's a ride we won't repeat.
I've only biked across the Deception Pass Bridge once, back in 1973. I'd forgotten all about the experience, but recognized it immediately this morning. It's a unique experience. This is one of the wider sections of the walkway. There's really no room to pass, and pedestrians were queuing up behind us. The second bridge, over Canoe Pass, is even narrower and the fence posts slant into the walkway. On it, I had to walk behind the bike, pushing it ahead of me.
The Deception Pass Bridge; or, actually I guess this must be the section over Canoe Pass. It's a bit shorter than the other section, on the other side of Pass Island.
Safely off of 520 at last, the quality of the ride improved greatly. For the next seven miles we worked our way northeast across Fidalgo Island, alternating stretches on quiet minor roads with short sections on busy but broad shouldered Highway 20. We left the island by crossing the channel on the shoulderless Highway 20 bridge, riding on the walkway we were steered toward by the bike route navigation signs.
Across the bridge, we turned north on empty Bayview Edison Road, biking across the farmlands of the ultraflat Skagit River floodplain. We've been targeting tiny Edison as our lunch stop, and we didn't bring our own lunches with us because I assured Rachael that we'd find something in Edison. The whole way there though, I worried that I was wrong. There would be hell to pay if there's no food available when we get there.
Fortunately, Edison saved my bacon. It is really a tiny community, but has several options to choose fro. We ate on the deck behind the Longhorn Saloon and enjoyed the best fish tacos I can remember having.
If I remember correctly, this is a 1931 Model A Ford. Or maybe a 1941. Whatever. I congratulated its proud owner on his prize, and thanked him for arranging this set piece for our benefit.
Crossing a corner of Skagit Valley, south of Edison. I don't know what these roadside blossoms are, but they're reminiscent of lupines. Rachael doesn't care - she's hungry, in a hurry to reach our lunch stop in Edison, and wishing I'd keep moving.
Our short tour ended with the fifteen mile run up to Bellingham along Chuckanut Drive. Chuckanut is an iconic and historic road in this region. Dating back to 1895, it was the first road south f from northwest Washington - before that, commerce traveled primarily by foot, horse or canoe. It is a beautiful oute, perched on a saddle about a hundred feet above the bay and hugging the rocky cliffs of Chuckanut Mountain. It's a ride I biked a few times bCk in college, but I worried a bit about how it would be now - a few people cautioned us about its narrowness, blind curves and traffic. Today though the road was very quiet and we had a great ride.
In Bellingham we're staying at another AirBnB offering, a nice condo unit near the waterfront and right on the edge of Fairhaven, probably the trendiest part of town. It was great to be able to stay here, partly because it is very close to the Amtrak station but mostly because it is very close to where I lived 45 years ago. It was a nostalgic feeling to cycle the roads around Fairhaven and Happy Valley, trying to recall just where I lived and dimly recognizing a few landmarks.
Leaving Skagit flats and beginning the ride along the base of Chuckanut Mountain
Overlooking Bellingham's harbor from the deck of our AirBnB. The large land mass on the left is Lummi Island, and to its right is Orcas. Mount Constitution is just to the right of the utility pole.
The next morning, we left our lodging right at 7 and stopped at a Fairhaven sandwich shop for breakfast and to pick up deli sandwiches to go for the ride home. Then we coasted a few blocks downhill to the stations, wheeled our bikes to the baggage car when the train rolled in, and settled in for a relaxing, scenic ride home. Nothing easier. For the life of me, I don't know why we haven't gone by train more often up until now. That'll change.
This display in the Amtrak station commemorates the Pacific American Fisheries Company, which stood on this site and was once the largest salmon cannery in the world. It has some interesting information and great old photos of warehouse floors covered with salmon and of workers soldering lids onto cans by hand. "For 67 years it was the pride of Bellingham and a source of income for thousands of local workers."
