Across Idaho in Four Days: Up The Lochsa (Day Nine)

Idaho Day Two: Kamiah to Milepost 108 on the Lochsa.

Swallows and sunrise nudged us from our slumber. We were off to Kooskia for resupply and breakfast feast. Ample country gravy would sustain us for the coming miles. With supplies loaded and satisfied we had all we needed from civilization it was off into the wild green yonder.

The sun rose high in the sky, baking us against the asphalt frying pan. We did not find the cooling solace we had expected. The road and river peeled back the protective canopy, rays scorching our hides. Pushing up the lowest reaches of the Lochsa we found the river's banks packed with young cherry trees. Stopped under a choice tree, Laura decided to make a quick seatpost height adjustment. Overzealous bolt tightening was followed by a POP. The bolt, likely as old as the 1980's frame, just couldn't take it.

Panic seemed appropriate, but somehow a feeling of calm pervaded the scene. First we ate the cherries and tried a quick fix by wrapping the stripped threads in electrical tape. No luck. We took stock of our options and pushed the bikes up the long, scorching gravel driveway of the Reflections Inn. Somewhere nearby there had to be a bolt that would work, and this was the closest place to look.

Jim greeted us with cold well water and hope. Checking several places, he returned with hardware. The bolt, nut, and two washers held the seatpost at the right height, and we had our solution. He dropped a few more pearls of wisdom, including that the Lochsa valley is a recovery zone for agricultural bees.

Pausing by a popular swimming spot on the Lochsa, we had a complete bee experience. Jim had told us he doesn't wear yellow, and our yellow bags and chartreuse clothing did seem to hold a special attraction for the enthusiastic insects. Nearly falling over themselves, they licked our skin.

Across Idaho in Four Days: Heart of The Lochsa (Day Ten)

Idaho Day Three: Milepost 108 to The Lochsa Lodge.

The stifling heat came on the heels of the morning, but luckily we had a rushing river to cool us every 10 or so miles. Traffic was light on the gradual climb into the heart of The Lochsa. In need of water we stopped at one of the many tributary streams and collected crisp, icy blue gold. Local insects thought this a good idea as well and exploded into a cloud of bees and butterflies as we disturbed them. They gently settled on us to harvest our salt.

The sweltering heat reached its peak and we rested under the shade at the river's edge. There we meet our first fellow cyclists going the same direction. Michael and Jack, from the UK, had started from Astoria, OR on their Transamerica tour; greeting us on day 15. Leaving the shade only to dunk ourselves, we waited out the midday heat peak.

Two too many "Travel Supremes," an unfortunate behemoth of moving square footage, idling at the popular pullout shook us from the heat stupor and hurried us up the road. Soon we came upon the Lochsa Historic Ranger Station hosted by Frank Fowler, a retired smokejumper. We knew we were at the right place when he directed us to put our heads under a cool spigot. Intending to make it a short stay we wandered the grounds briefly but soon found Frank's stories of grouse, grounded telephones to fire lookouts, backcountry mule trains, and of course smokejumping too enticing.

With supplies running a bit low, temperatures subsiding, and road-shade growing, we pushed the last 40 miles to The Lochsa Lodge. A beautiful, welcoming, and warm log structure greeted us. There we feasted and met a few local scientists with whom we chatted about plants and stream sediment.

Across Idaho in Four Days: Clearwater Baptism (Day Eight)

Idaho Day One: Lewiston to Kamiah

Bird chatter and song permeated the mist of drowsiness as we awoke and prepared a quick breakfast before meandering back up the cycle path, along the levee, and into historic downtown Lewiston. We found the Blue Lantern coffee shop, which appeared to occupy an old bank building complete with heavy iron safe, tall grand ceilings, creamy marble stairs, flowing brass rails, and sun streaming through ten foot plate glass windows. Happy old building smell mingled with fresh baked cookie and dark java scents.

Coffee enjoyed, phones charged, and a grocery stop later, we pointed our wheels back over the Snake River and towards highway 12 as the day warmed. Following a cycle path paralleling the highway for several miles east, we soon needed a break from the sun and found shelter under a few small trees between the path and the river. After lunch and letting solar noon pass in the shade of black locust, the heat ride continued.

Miles later, we needed more than just shade. Just after the highway crossed the river, we laid our bikes down and climbed the short bank to the rushing cool waters. Screams, hysterical laughter, with a side of fun... Later we learned this water was so cold because it was being released from a dam upstream. Refreshed, we continued on to Orofino and Kamiah. In Kamiah near sunset we queried local people as to an acceptable place to camp nearby, and learned that we could stay in the city park.

Goodbye Washington (Day Seven)

From our high perch in what was possibly a park, we took the steep hills back to town for a hearty breakfast at Topnotch cafe and later coffee, homemade ice cream and caramels, and phone recharging at Fonk's coffee house. The air was heating up and we knew our road would be shadeless. With the previous day's scorching still evident on our red hides, we put on long pants and thick sunscreen and pushed south 15 miles to Pullman.
There we made an eccentric path through the small town, eating path-side service berries while grappling with our sudden (presumably heat- induced) inability to put map and ground together to gain our intended destination. At the top of a tall, hot hill we finally found Zoe's Underground, and later, Ferdinand's ice cream shoppe. Then we let the heat of the day pass in the grass under tall broadleaf trees.
Leaving town, a quick conversation with another cyclist put us on the right path to Idaho. Smooth and car-free, we rode 7 easy miles east and crossed the state line on a cycle path. In Moscow we picked up a few groceries at the unparalleled Moscow Food Co-op, then headed south towards Lewiston.
At first the road seemed a mistake- medium traffic, a trick shoulder full of bumps, sand, and gravel- but after a few miles 2 lanes widened to a separated four, and the shoulder was a lane in itself: smooth sailing all the way to the bluffs above Lewiston, and the Old Spiral Highway. Like riding a rollercoaster on a bike, the Old Spiral Highway falls two thousand feet in wide, smooth, looping banked curves to the Snake valley floor. After this sunset descent nearly alone (passing only 2 motorcycles and one car) we followed a cycle path upstream Snake to find Hells Gate State Park.

Small Town Sun (Day Six)

Perfect weather greeted us as the sun rose over the igneous canyon wall. Power gruel down the hatch, new stem installed (thank you Windust camp host, keeper of the keys, for use of your Allen wrench set), rubber hit the road. A surprise grasshopper tactical assault met us on the winding road up the canyon, yet our steel and aluminum steeds prevailed as the winged assailants flung themselves at our legs and spokes.
After a stop in Kahlotus, we continued on to Starbuck. There we drank a coffee-sugar-bvitamin elixir whilst discussing "earthiness" and adventure with the locals on the shady porch of the small store.
Under the scorching sun we once again put chain to gear. After one more small town stop- La Crosse for cool drinks and shade-  we continued through surprisingly single-specied farmland - green wheat blanketed the softly rounded hills. In twilight we rolled into Colfax, filled our canteens, and found a perch high above the town.