"Pain is just weakness escaping the body..."

May 28th found us nicely rested - but at the bottom of the hill...

We knew we had a big climb facing us that day (both Rainy and Washington passes), so we resolved to get an earlier start than we had previously.  In order to accomplish this, we broke camp pretty early, and only made some coffee water, and had bars for breakfast.  This strategy allowed us to get rolling before our faster climbing campmates, and we were rolling just before 7am.  Dale would follow us by another 15 minutes, and J-P and Suzanne a while after that.

The morning was crisp and sunny, and once out of the campground we had a short descent and then the climbing commenced. And continued. And, OMG - we had a sustained 7% climb for THREE MILES.   We took a break at a spectacular overlook of Ross Lake.  And then resumed.  And we took a break with a spectacular view of Davis Mtn.  And then resumed.

J-P and Suzanne passed us 18 miles up.

In fact, things didn't really ease up at all until 5 miles in - and these are TdF epic Cat4 territory climbs, and you can bet you've never seen Contador or Jens doing this sorta climbing with an extra 100# of gear and a trailer!
Shut up, legs!

And the bike started squeaking, too. In time with each crank of the pedal, low at first, and then with increasing urgency. Almost as if it were tiring of this grind, this strain against its mechanicals as well.  (It had started this a couple days earlier in fact, and it seemed to be heat and perhaps stress related - so we reached out to the Mazama bike shop to see if a mechanic would be there when we arrived on Sunday).

Climbing like this gives you a lot of time to think (at 4mph), about things in the past, things in the future -- anything to get your mind off your legs at the present time.  And you study things more closely too, like the road and all the things that it tells you through its stains and scars: of landslides and burning cars, and blown transmissions, and locked up brakes - all these things are indelibly etched on the road that you normally are rocketing over at 60mph and haven't much time to notice, let alone contemplate...

As we ascended we started anticipating and relishing the "instant A/C" that was the result of a cascade of snowmelt waters crashing down near the highway.  We stopped a couple times and I discovered the cooling vents in my helmet were handy spaces to stuff snow into, to melt and cool me as we resumed our Sisyphean climb.   

At the top of Rainy Pass (the first pass of 2), we did a little walking around to get all of our muscles unclenched, and then proceeded to scoot down the descent between it and Washington Pass - and it was so cold!

But then only too soon, too soon!! we're crawling up to summit Washington Pass and the pitch is steep and all that coldness is just a refreshing memory.




But like the senior senator from Massachusetts, "nevertheless we persisted", and over the course of about 6 hours we defeated gravity, exhaustion and elevation, foot by foot, until we were standing on top of Washington Pass looking at the Liberty Bell!







Once atop WA Pass, we again walked out the kinks, and as we did, up rode Nick & Spencer from Ohio that we had briefly met the night before at our campsite.  They are cycling from Cape Flattery WA to Maine, and our routes are paralleling for a bit.  These climbs are a bit daunting for these flatlanders, but they seem to be holding up okay. 👍

Soon we got on our shells and bundled up some, against the anticipated cold of a nearly 18 mile descent to Mazama.  As we started down, the scenery was overwhelming, and the freshets along side were amazing, and the speed was effortless - and all was right in the world for this time.  The trees and the mountains whizzed by, and I enjoyed them as much as I could, while maintaining a beady eye on the road ahead, alert for grooves, or gravel, or chuck holes that could unravel this freight train load of momentum into chaos in an instant. (I also again silently sang the praises of the TRP Spyre Disk brakes that we had upgraded to!). 

After about 10 miles of this though, we had to stop and take off our extra layer, and it was apparent that we were now in Eastern Washington, and things are hotter over here.  And so it went until Mazama, where we pulled up to North Cascades Cycle Werks, where we met up with Merle (sole proprietor) and discussed our crank noise with him.  He thought it could be the belt and did some quick googling to discover that under strain in dry conditions, they tend to dry out a bit and develop a rasping squeak.  A good spay of silicone lubricant and the noise abated.

Meanwhile Brigitte was mildly bonking and had walked next door for a couple sandwiches for us.  We wolfed them down, and rested in the shade on Merle's porch.  After a bit, we set off on a side road that paralleled the highway (at Merle's suggestion) and had a nice ride along it for 6 or so miles until it rejoined Hwy 20 (aka USBR10 - of which we had seen no signage for, as of yet!).   From there it was about another 8 miles into Winthrop, and our lodging at the Abbey Creek Inn.  

Meeting us at the Inn was our buddy Dale, who immediately thrust an ice cold bomber of beer in our hands, as well as a chocolate milk!
We cleaned up, and went back into town (using the Inn's shuttle) to meet J-P, Suzanne and their daughter Pascale and her friend at the town brewery: Old Schoolhouse.  There we also met friends Rick & Karen, and their friend Rick. 

It was nice to finally be there after that grueling day, and relax and have some beers and good food on the back patio, next to the very full Methow River, careening past just a few feet away, all talking about our versions of the ride, and the highlights and challenges.  

Stats for the day:`65 Miles & 5300'

Tomorrow J-P and Suzanne would be leaving us, and heading back to civilization.  Thank you J-P & Suzanne for accompanying us this far!
(I know you'd like to go farther... 😉)