One Seriously Hot Day of Riding - Greg's Questionable Judgement - CycleBlaze

July 23, 2013

One Seriously Hot Day of Riding

Coulee City, WA

When I got up this morning, I emerged from my tent to find Hank packed up and ready to go.  We said our goodbyes and he pedaled off.  A few minutes later Aaron had his phone out and asked, "What was the name of those thorns that guy was talking about last night?"  He was ready to Google it.

"I can't remember," I answered while still searching my memory banks.  Then it came to me:  "I think it was, um, goatfuckers or something like that."

"That's a good one," he laughed, "but you're right, it was goat-something."  He entered "goat" and "thorn" and there it was--a picture of a goathead.  Now we know what to look for.

Today we started with a pleasant and scenic ride across and alongside the Columbia River for 14 miles, passing tempting apple and cherry orchards as we went.  Then came the difficult 7-mile climb out of the river valley to the high plateau of eastern Washington.  It took us nearly two hours to complete, but it wasn't as bad as the two guys on the Iron Horse Trail made it sound when they warned us about it.

I'm smiling because it isn't too hot yet.
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U.S. Highway 2, the Columbia River, and the barren hills along the river.
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Aaron repairs a flat tire on the climb into the semi-desert of Pine Canyon. (The cause was a wire from a truck tire, not a goathead.) Aaron was disappointed because he had just purchased a new pair of Schwalbe Marathon Supremes and the salesperson assured him they were virtually puncture-proof.
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The view back down the road we've been climbing.
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At first the high plateau was characterized by vast wheat fields.  Then came an incredible emptiness and desolation.  On U.S. 2 from Waterville to Coulee City--a distance of 41 miles--there was no services, no water, and no people.  Occasionally we'd see some more wheat fields here and there, but no sign of farmers or farmhouses.  It was mostly a treeless landscape of hills, dirt, dry shrubs, and frequent whirlwinds of dust.  There were also a few house-sized boulders randomly scattered.  I can't imagine how they got there, but I consider them to be better evidence of alien activity, if that's your thing, than something like crop circles.

Speaking of whirlwinds, I saw one of them twisting and whipping up the dry dirt to my right.  It was approaching the highway.  I distinctly remember thinking "hey, that thing is gonna hit the road at the same time as I get there."  I sped up a little bit to make sure of it and, indeed, the the mini-tornado hit me.  I actually had to lean into it to avoid getting blown over.  It was surprisingly powerful, though it likely would have registered no higher than an F-.000001 on the tornado-measuring scale.

My picture of the wheat fields of eastern Washington.
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Aaron's picture of the wheat fields of eastern Washington.
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The afternoon became ridiculously hot, particularly after we descended a few hundred feet into a very desolate desert environment.  Somewhere along the route, the driver of a big Pepsi truck heading in the opposite direction pulled over and flagged me down.  (As usual, Aaron was way ahead of me.)

"Do you have enough water?" he shouted from the cab.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied, proud of my own self-sufficiency.  "Thank you anyway."

"No problem.  Have a safe trip."

A few minutes later I could have slapped myself silly.  I took a drink of the water I was so proud of and discovered it was hot.  Not just warm, but HOT.  Still, I drank it because it was too precious to spit out.  And sure enough, by the time we reached Coulee City it was 104 degrees and I was out of water.

Do you know what's worse than riding your bike 65 miles in temperatures in the 90's and 100's?  The answer is setting up camp in a crumby-looking campground at the western edge of town in that heat.

So I bought a motel room in a crumby-looking motel on the EASTERN edge of Coulee City and we took it real easy in our air-conditioned room.

Wait!  I have a couple more pictures.

Aaron's "touring bike" and the 104-degree (F) desert.
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An understated sign advertising a minimalist motel in an unforgiving desert.
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Today's ride: 65 miles (105 km)
Total: 212 miles (341 km)

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Scott AndersonJuly in The Coulee country. Wow! Questionable judgement is right - a bit charitable, actually. My first longer ride was like this, from Seattle to a resort near Grand Coulee Dam. I was 15, biking over two days to meet my family at our vacation rental. I slept on a blown over billboard in the sagebrush near Vantage, and arrived well done the next day. A ride I’ll never forget.
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5 years ago
Gregory GarceauTo Scott AndersonFIFTEEN!!! I knew you've been doing this bike touring thing a long time, but, man, you're even more of an inspiration than I thought.

I think my riding through that area was less a case of questionable judgement, and more a case of naivete. I had no idea there was a desert in eastern Washington. I wasn't disappointed though, as I am a fan of deserts.
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5 years ago
Mark BinghamIf I had to choose between a goathead and a goatfucker, I'd choose the goatfucker.


...unless of course, you know, I was a goat.

Enjoying the journal.
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1 year ago
Gregory GarceauTo Mark BinghamHard to believe I'd set out on a trip like this without knowing what a goatfucker was, but you know, "young & dumb." Except I wasn't young.
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1 year ago