Day 51: White Bird to Lowell, ID; Fire Shuts Down My Next Stop, Now What?

August 21, 2015

Notes:

1.) If you select the “Comment" link near the bottom of the page you can leave a message for me. I enjoy getting them.

2.) Climbing Today: 3,688 ft -- Total So Far; 123,364 ft

3.) Average Speed While Biking Today: 9.5 mph

4.) Mechanical Issues Today: none (total so far; 1 flat tire)

5.) Miles Remaining to Canon City: about 1,196

6.) Miles Traveled to Date on This Half of the Journey: 804

7.) Money Found Today: 0

8.) Total Money Found: $0.21 (Will I find enough to buy a cup of coffee?)

9.) Immediate Challenges/Concerns: Getting out of the smoke, possible road closure and evacuation scenario

The climb out of White Bird had the potential to be devastating. Daniel Wolf, one of my traveling companions during parts of the first half of this adventure, had warned me in his journal that this ascent could be the toughest of them all. So I was adequately apprehensive, and planned my trip to stay overnight in White Bird and tackle the climb with fresh legs before the day heated up. It was a good plan, and I strongly recommend others consider that approach. Do NOT put yourself in the situation of needing to make this climb in the afternoon heat with tired legs.

So I was up at 4:00 am and rolling at 5:15 am. I gingerly pushed Harvey through the motel parking lot to the street trying to avoid putting pressure on the tires in the event any goat-heads were to be found. I found several of these nasty little thorns on the carpet this morning, and I know that I carried them in on my shoe soles yesterday because they weren’t there previously. So I picked them up from somewhere, perhaps off of the graveled motel parking lot. Here’s a closeup shot of a few of them, showing the nasty thorns that have given me one flat tire so far;

Yikes, I Found Goatheads On The Motel Room Floor. Harvey Does Not Like Them

As I left White Bird, I rolled past Mac’s Bar and Family Restaurant.

Maybe it’s just me, but a combination bar and ”family restaurant” seems a bit odd. I peeked into Mac’s last night when I was looking for a place to eat, and all I saw was a bar with 2 locals sitting on the stools. The early morning air was cool, and I had my jacket on but figured it won’t last long as I commenced a gradual climb immediately. My route this morning, and the climb of concern, occurs on the “old” Highway 95.

It so happens that the old highway 95 played a major role in connecting north and south Idaho.

The Old Highway 95 Was Instrumental In Connecting the 2 Halves of Idaho

I encountered this load limit sign and hope that my recreational vehicle is within whatever limits have been established.

Later down the road, the limits were revealed.

That Was Close; Harvey and I Weigh In at 0.15 Tons, So We Squeaked Under

Doing a quick calculation, I determined that my load was about 0.15 ton, so I should pass any cursory inspection. The trail-head sign alluded to a bit of local history, and I made a mental note to learn more when I can.

Many of the Signs I Photograph Are A Reminder to Myself to Research the History Behind Them

I’m loaded for bear this morning. I was very disappointed to not have my telephoto lens on the camera at the opportune moment when I spied a bear a few days back, so now I’m starting every day with the telephoto on and I’m searching hard in every valley and holler I pass over. The opportunity I missed the other day occurred about noon, however, and that was unexpectedly late in the day for bear spotting. I didn’t bag a bear today, but of course I shot some deer (yawn);

I Stopped Taking Pictures Of Deer Because I Saw So Many

I was unable to call 511 this morning and check on possible road closures along my route due to the fires, so that could be a real barn burner of a problem (gee whiz, I just kill myself sometimes). But you can’t fear the journey, you must move on to get ahead, and that’s what I’m doing. I’m chasing what seems to be a myth in these parts; clean air, air that isn’t contaminated with smoke. Rumor is that Montana has some, so I’m trying to push through to the Big Sky state.

White Bird was an interesting little place, but it’s not exactly a tourist mecca. Every business there operates on a cash-only basis, even the White Bird Motel, so my cash took a hit. Well, not every business, just those in the 1-block “downtown” area; Hoots Motel and Café, located out on the new highway 95, does take credit cards. But the motel doesn’t have WIFI. The White Bird Motel SAYS it has WIFI, but it really doesn’t; there is WIFI located in the owner’s house adjacent to the motel, but it isn’t strong enough to reach the rooms. This is a rather common occurrence in many of these small town motels, so if wifi is important to you, better ask for the details when the motel says it has wifi. I was able to get wifi at the White Bird Motel, but only by sitting outside the owner’s house; I couldn't get it in my room.

My early morning strategy was a good one, and I was slowly climbing the hill before sunrise. The grade wasn’t as bad as the Appalachians, and I was able to progress without using the granny gear, moving along about 4.5 mph and taking frequent breaks for photos and rest. Here’s a look back into the valley along my path;

Looking Back Toward the Valley From Whence I Came

It’s a very winding road with lots of switchbacks. It’s really not possible to show it in a photo, but here’s one such feeble attempt;

It Was a Long Winding Road, 13 Miles of Uphill

And here’s a look upward. You can see the various road levels to be traveled ahead and envision the switchbacks required to access them;

Looking Up At My Path Ahead, You Could See Numerous Switchbacks

I had been warned to carry extra fluid on these stretches in the western half, so in addition to Harvey’s main tanks (3 water bottles that hold 72 ounces of fluid), and the usual auxiliary Gatorade bottle on the rear rack that holds 28 ounces, I am now routinely carrying a 16 ounce orange juice bottle in my handlebar bag. Since I stop frequently for photos, it’s convenient to take a small swig from this bottle as I replace the camera in the handlebar bag. So it’s usually the first bottle to be depleted, and today it’s gone by mile 8, right before the sun rose over the hill.

I Was Trying to Get As Far Up As I Could Before the Sun Started Cooking

Even though the sun was now up, I was still wearing my wind jacket. There was a cooling westerly breeze this morn, and I hoped that was favorable for the firefighters. They try to forecast the winds for the next day and do back-burns with the hope that the wind will push the fire towards an area that has already been burned out. With the sun now up, I saw something I hadn’t seen in days.

What's This!? I Haven't Seen Blue Sky in Days, I Have Temporarily Climbed Out of the Smoke

It’s blue sky! Wow, I remember that now; that’s what the world looked like before it was plunged into the chaos caused by these forest fires. The problem is that the smoke layer settles into the valleys, and that’s where all the people live. Here’s a shot that shows this phenomena;

You can see the smoke in the valley and the blue sky above. It’s a Valhalla vs. Hades concept, and while we all prefer Valhalla most of us must endure Hades in our daily life. And so I have been breathing smoke for 8 days now, but for the moment I am high enough to get a temporary reprieve. I still hadn’t spotted a bear, but here are some elk shots;

Elk Are Comfortable on the Steep Terrain

The Elk Can Move Fast Across the Sloping Terrain

It’s difficult to explain just how big this country is. The bear I spotted a few days back was located in a valley beneath me, and I have been searching in the hollers below me as I ride up White Bird Hill. It can be a bit dizzying to do so; sometimes you are riding adjacent to a steep drop-off into the canyon below. I couldn’t really capture the feeling with a photo, but here’s one anyway;

It's Hard to Get A Feel For How Deep These Valleys Are With a Photograph

About mile 9 on the climb, one can spot this place in the valley below. It looks like a fantastic place to live, assuming you don’t mind being really isolated.

A Nice Place, Very Isolated From the Mainstream Flow and With a Steep Drive to Get Out

Note to my wife; I know it looks nice, but I’m pretty sure this is WAY too lonely for you.

It was a long climb up the hill, and the new highway 95 can be seen off in the distance. At one point, the old route and the new route join together for a mile. Here’s a warning to truckers as they approach the downhill section on the new highway;

And here’s a sign showing the summit of White Bird Hill on the new Highway;

Crest at Elevation 4245 On The "New" Highway, But the Old Route Climbs Even Higher

I don’t know the elevation of the summit of White Bird Hill on the old highway, but I know it’s higher than the new route because the old route leaves the new route at this elevation sign and commences climbing again for about another 2 miles. I reached the summit of the old highway route after 13 miles of climbing, which I accomplished in 3 hours and 45 minutes including numerous photo and rest stops. During that time I was only passed by 2 vehicles. I think this is a great bicycle route, and highly recommend it. It’s not a super hard climb, it just takes a lot of sustained effort - it would really be great on a lightweight road bike. Leave early in the morning and enjoy it. At the summit of the old highway 95, there is a combination lodge/B&B/Dude Ranch outfit. Here’s the summit sign at their entrance;

There's a Lodge and B&B at the Summit of the "Old" Highway 95

Immediately upon cresting the summit, one notices a foliage change in that now there actually is foliage whereas before it was pretty sparse.

The Foliage Increased Almost Immediately After the Summit

And not far from the summit I noticed this interesting sign meant to deter evil-doers;

The ride down to Grangeville was exhilarating, but whereas I had climbed about 2500 feet I only descended 1,000 feet to Grangeville. I will get to enjoy the remainder of the elevation difference later today when I descend into the Stites/Kooskia area. For local cyclists, or those close enough to make a weekend trip, a great ride would be to start from White Bird and climb the hill early, then descend to Grangeville and enjoy a hearty “second breakfast” and then climb back up White Bird Hill and enjoy the 2500 foot descent back to town. But I digress, so back to my story. When you descend towards Grangeville, you now find yourself in a vast agricultural land.

I was surprised to see a barn decorated with a quilt symbol. Other than one I saw on my first day in Oregon, I hadn’t seen any of these since Kentucky.

I Haven't Seen These Barn/Quilt Symbols Since Kentucky

Taking advice from a local fellow I accosted as he was walking down the street, I stopped at “According to Oscar’s” on Main Street for my own “second breakfast” and filled the tank for the remainder of the day’s ride. It was quite good and much appreciated after the White Bird Hill effort. I asked the waitress if she had heard any news about the fires and road closures on my path ahead, and she asked the cook who happened to live in the Syringa area where I was headed. The cook said that the road was definitely closed at Syringa. This was bad news for me indeed, as I had a reservation at a place 7 miles past Syringa, and there were no other rooms to be found. “No vacancy” is a common story in this part of the world right now as more than 32,000 firefighters have been mobilized to deal with the nation’s number 1 emergency priority and they have occupied many of the available motel rooms. So if I couldn’t make it past Syringa to Lowell, it’s unlikely I would be able to find an inside place to stay. I could possibly camp somewhere (probably, no guarantee on that even), but after breathing the smoky air while exercising heavily all day, I think staying inside at night is helping me stay healthy. So that was bad news. But the story of my trip since I encountered the smoke/fire situation is that rumors and misinformation abound. In part that’s because there is limited to no cell phone service in many of these small communities, and no access to the internet unless you opted for satellite, so folks up here rely on word-of-mouth as much as anything. So while my brain was spinning trying to think of alternative plans (gee whiz, I REALLY didn’t want to have to go back up White Bird Hill and retreat to the White Bird Motel), I called the 511 road info number and selected highway 12. There were no road closures listed on my route of travel, although there was a warning about the fire fighting traffic and slowdown near Syringa. OK, that sounded better. Then I called Ryan’s Wilderness Inn in Lowell where I was booked for the night, and they confirmed that the road was currently open “although it could change at a moment’s notice.”

I was relieved that the road wasn’t closed, but since I was going to be near several fires I thought it wise to buy a dust mask just in case I got into heavy smoke. The waitress gave me directions to a hardware store and I soon had a 2-strap dust mask like one would use for sanding sheet-rock. Wearing the mask would be problematic when cycling as it wouldn’t allow for drinking without first having to remove my helmet and then the mask, so I tucked it away in a rear pannier to be used if really needed. It was basically a $4 peace-of-mind investment. That detour added about 1.5 miles to my day, but because of it I got side-tracked when I returned to my route and missed my turnoff at first, eventually adding another couple of miles to the day. And about an hour later I got temporarily “confused” (I blame this one on the ACA map), so I added 5 miles of riding to today’s planned mileage. It happens, doesn’t bother me anymore; I plan for an additional 3% of riding above the ACA map mileage to account for being lost and for off-route excursions.

Back on route, I encountered some rollers that were steep enough to have me using low gears. Other than the steep rollers, the terrain here looks like I’m back in Kansas.

Looks Like I'm Back in Kansas, Except For The Rolling Up/Down Hills

My route this day went through the Nez Perce reservation for about 23 miles. The only notice you have that you are entering a sovereign nation is the street sign at the border.

My Path Went Through the Nez Perce Reservation For About 23 Miles

This seemed like a novel way to display a ranch name.

The descent towards Stites and Kooskia is steep and a fun ride with lots of switchbacks and I got to enjoy the extra 1500 feet I earned climbing White Bird today. However I have entered back into the smoky realm once again.

Descending Towards Stites and Kooskia, and Getting Back Into Heavier Smoke

At Stites I crossed over the South Fork of the Clearwater River.

The firefighters were a looming presence in these small communities. When I came upon this incident base just outside Kooskia, I pulled in to verify with the entry guards that my path ahead was open with no road closures.

A Fire Incident Base Camp - I've Passed Several Since I Got Into the Fires

I was told that the road was open but that there was 1-lane traffic near Lowell to allow for easy ingress/egress of fire-fighting equipment on a side road. And of course I was told that since the fires were near that things “could change at any moment.” Rolling on, I entered Kooskia and pondered my next move. I was headed to Lowell and had 22 miles remaining to get there. There was supposed to be a convenience store at Lowell where I could get supplies for the trip ahead. Syringa had suffered fire damage and had been partially evacuated, and there was nothing there anyway. If the store at Lowell wasn’t open I would be out of luck. So I decided to stock up in Kooskia, and I rolled up to the local grocery store and got some peanut butter, bread, an apple, a plum, and an orange juice and pastry for my “first breakfast” when I would leave the hotel long before any restaurant would be open. My planned next day's ride from Lowell to Powell was 66 miles and there were no services along that route, so I had to carry enough food and water to get me through that distance. Oh, and it’s uphill; I would net 2,000 feet in gain and actually climb more than that due to the ups and downs, so it would be a trying day.

After stocking up, I called ahead to Powell. You never know if you will have cell service in the small towns, so I needed to call while I had service in Kooskia. The Lochsa Lodge at Powell had left a message the previous day canceling my reservation for Saturday night because the Forest Service had put them on an evacuation level that would not let anyone stay overnight at the lodge. And you couldn’t camp either; they just didn’t want anyone staying overnight in that area due to the fire-fighting efforts nearby. I was hoping that things had improved and I could restore my reservation so I would have a place to stay after a hard day crossing the 66 mile “no services” zone. I got some disheartening news; the evacuation notice was now officially extended until next Monday. No one could stay at the lodge or in the cabins or camp there, or camp at any of the Forest Service sites along and near my route, until Monday night. Gadzooks! I couldn’t tolerate that much of a delay, so what to do?

For now, the thing to do was to get to Lowell hurriedly so they didn’t shut down the road at Syringa and prevent me from continuing. So off I rode, and I gave Harvey his head and let him run. We slowed down considerably on the uphills breathing heavily, and pushed on the flats and downhills and were making overall good time. The effort helped me think and plan a way out of my dilemma. Really, there was only a couple of choices; I could spend 3 nights in Lowell and proceed on Monday to Powell (assuming that things did improve enough to lower the evacuation level at Powell by Monday), or I could attempt an absolutely nutty/crazy/ridiculous/Gonzo day and make a run for Montana. I wasn’t going to be ready to attempt a Gonzo day tomorrow, so I would need to take a day off in Lowell and rest up and get prepared both mentally and physically for the attempt. To reach Montana I will have to cycle the 66 mile dead zone, then an additional 13 miles to the summit of Lolo Pass, and then descend to somewhere in Montana. The song phrase “Somewhere in the middle of Montana” was bouncing through my head and I liked the sound of it. Montana, where Mikel told me I would finally get out of the smoke and back into clean air. OK then, I had decided to attempt the Gonzo day. It will be extraordinarily hard for me, and it may be more than I can do. Did I mention that it’s uphill all the way to Montana and that my actual climbing elevation that day would be about 5,000 feet? On the ACA map it appears that the grade up Lolo Pass is steeper than the grade was up White Bird Hill, and I won’t even encounter that until I have cycled about 72 miles uphill. This may be more than my body can do, regardless of my willingness and a day’s rest. It would be foolish to not have some backup plan for this attempt, so I contemplated that for a while. The only reasonable backup was to camp somewhere between Powell and Lolo Pass; one can debate the degree of “reasonable” implied here, but it was the only option if I couldn't make it over Lolo Pass. The area is part of the Selway Bitterroot Wilderness, and there are no official campgrounds past Powell so I would have to simply camp somewhere off the road. So that’s the backup plan. Great - my backup plan is to camp in an area where camping currently is officially prohibited because the forest fires are too close - that's probably the worst backup plan ever. Sigh...

If I can crest Lolo Pass, there are options for where I could stay depending on how spent I was. Lolo Hot Springs is only 8 downhill miles away and has a lodge and cabins, but they are on the expensive side. At 33 miles on the Montana side is the town of Lolo. It’s mostly downhill to it with a few uphill bumps along the way, and it would have some cheaper lodging options. And if I opted to continue on for another 13 miles I could reach Missoula; it would be mostly flat riding with a small hill after Lolo, but I suspected I would be thoroughly exhausted by that point and not want the additional distance. So if I could crest the pass, Lolo may be the best option.

So all that planning stuff was going through my head as I was whizzing along towards Syringa and hoping for no road closure when I heard “hey!” from a side road. Turning to look, I saw Eric stopped for a break.

Eric, Transam Rider, Gave Me Bad News About the Smoke Ahead in Montana

Eric had been cycling east to west on the Transam, but was now going to jump on the Lewis and Clark route to make a more direct beeline to Portland. He gave me some bad news; Montana was now engulfed in wildfires as well. He spent 5 days in the smoke there, and said it was worse than it was here. Great, just wonderful; I’m going to be in the smoke for another 8 days it seems. Eric also warned me about Yellowstone; the traffic is horrible bumper-to-bumper RVs throughout the 60 mile length of the transit. He suggested that I consider cycling it at night to get through it easier. It sure seems like a shame that one of our nation’s premier parks has roads with inadequate shoulders for cyclists; they cater to phat pholks in huge steel cages who are polluting the park’s very air with their exhausts, but aren’t very friendly to cyclists who do no environmental damage in their transit. Go figure. Eric also warned me that there’s a lot of fire activity in Syringa and that I should hustle on to be certain of getting through. Wishing each other well, we parted and I once again let Harvey run as fast as he wanted. We were running through the Clearwater National Forest, and the fire equipment parked next to the sign was indicative of the current state of things.

My Route Went Through the Clearwater National Forest

There were state troopers and numerous other agency officials lining the roadside at Syringa, and there was apparatus in place to close the road if needed, but I whizzed through without issue. I stopped to chat up a couple of Troopers about road conditions up ahead, and was told there were no closures for now “but things could change at any moment.” Helicopter tankers were using the river at Syringa to load water and drop it nearby; they hovered near the water and sucked up a tankful of water.

These Heli-Tankers Hovered Over the River and Sucked Up Water To Drop On The Fire

Lowell is known for being at the confluence of 3 rivers; the Lochsa River, Middle Fork of the Clearwater River, and the Selway River. Here they are;

Confluence of 3 Rivers; Middle Fork of the Clearwater, Lochsa, and Selway

I was pretty happy to reach Ryan’s Wilderness Inn, my home for the night. It’s a modest place; my floor wasn’t level, but I had a hot shower, a bed, AC, and a TV that I didn't turn on. There was no cell service, but they said they had WIFI. Sigh – they didn’t really, it was another case of the WIFI being in the owner’s home and you can’t get a signal at the motel. I couldn’t even get a signal outside the owner’s house; I only felt comfortable in approaching so close else I might be accused of being a peeping Tom. So no cell service and no WIFI, but the waitress in the café let me use the landline to call my wife. She also told me that the firefighters had warned her they would need to shut the electricity off for a few hours during the night. OK, no big deal. The chicken fried steak was great, and now I’m tired, much to do tomorrow even though it’s a rest day, good night all…

Today's ride: 73 miles (117 km)
Total: 3,101 miles (4,991 km)

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