Well folks, we are out on Washington's Olympic Peninsula getting dumped on! A Pacific storm whipping the area and drenching us the last two days. Our weather luck seems to be running out. Of course, we sort of knew that we were biking into the rainiest area in the continental U.S.; we just didn't quite believe it, our luck had been so good. Now we are believers. Still, last night we found a porch to sleep on, and tonight Rich is putting us up so we can get a warm shower and start out in the morning with dry stuff. Good things always happen, though we have a long way to our next known destination (Portland, OR), are making slow progress, and it promises to rain for the next four or five days. As usual, we'll see what happens. This trip has a way of making us as tough as we need to be.
I'm tired tonight but have internet access, so don't be surprised if the next entries are cryptic...
11/4, day 77: I'm eager to be back on the bike, so do a local bike ride in the morning from one side of northern Seattle to the other, over ridge after ridge of hills. Fun to be out without gear, the bike fairly dances up the hills. Spent the rest of the day as a rest day should be spent-- writing, running errands, eating, watching Monday night football. In the evening we chat with Bill and Jan and get ready to leave early in the morning.
11/5, day 78: Skies have been blue and sunny our whole stay in Seattle, but this morning as we pack up to leave it is cloudy. Sort of feels like the real Northwest though, layers of clouds giving depth to the sky and wreathing distant mountains in white whisps. We pedal over fallen yellow leaves on wet black pavement-- a nice bike trail then fun back roads out of town. At the Mukeltio ferry Bill meets us with his bike, we ride the ferry together over to Whidbey Island. Kind of exciting to be on a ferry, out on the water. The three of us do a nice back roads ride on Whidbey, going slow, relishing the hills, stopping to take in views. Felt sort of like being in Europe, or in the green islands of Newfoundland, Glen thought. We pass a ship being built, huge green metal bulk with welders crawling all over inside and outside of it-- marine country. Bill leaves us in time to make it back to his car before dark, we continue to a lovely and clean state park campground where we convince the ranger to let us stay for free. I hike down the hill to sit on small beach and write poetry to small waves and sunset. A beautiful creek gorge with fallen cedar branches and carpeted with brown needles-- old but ageless sort of place. A little rain chases us into our tent as the wind whips up, but it's warm and dry in the tent and for the first night in a long time we sleep without long underwear.
11/6, day 79: Glen has been in touch with a couple in Sequim on the Warm Showers list, so we aim to get to their house tonight. Damp roads and gray sky, but no rain as we start out. Soon get to ferry from Whidbey Island to Port Townsend on the mainland. Fun riding the ferry, talking to people on it; saw a nuclear sub steaming into port. Excited to be around the water. Checked out downtown Port Townsend, found a neat local ice cream shop to sit inside and eat our lunch. The owner turned out to be a bicyclist also, sat with us and chatted then treated us to ice cream and a quick tour of their operations. Loaded our hands with bittersweet chocolate bits in their storage room-- he knew we could use the calories. Such a nice treat to meet great people like that along the way. On the road again, it starts to rain as we bike by lovely bays. Its warm enough though that I stay in shorts and short sleeved shirt. At one point I turned and said to Glen, "It's a gray, blustery, wet day in November in Northern Washington and I'm biking in shorts." Crazy. We make it to Dick and Heidi's house mid-afternoon, take warm showers, dry out, drink welcome hot tea. Have fun visiting with them, especially since they did a bike trip all the way around the country on a tandem a few years ago, many more days and miles than we have put in so far. We compare stories about the biking life and get great hospitality from folks who know what it's like to be out on the road.
11/7, day 80: After great pancakes by Heidi, Dick rides with us a few miles to put us onto nice bike trail that takes us to Port Angeles. There, we buy some groceries and eat customary peanut butter and honey sandwiches in the lobby of city hall. Head out into rolling hills, clouds and mist. Soon starts raining and we stop to cover up. Rain gear works fairly well, but we must bike slower to keep from overheating inside all that waterproof material. Make it to Lake Crescent where, despite the rain and the late hour, we leave the highway and take a back road that turns into a single track trail running right by the lake. Careful, don't fall pedaling around that narrow rocky corner, you could slide down a steep ten foot bank into the lake and disappear forever into its clear, cold, thousand foot depths. The lake almost like a Norwegian fjord, steep mountainsides going down and down and the water green and clear between them. I want to jump in but it seems a bad idea. Wet trail but amazing vegetation, almost like biking through a rain forest. By the end of the trail its getting dark and we are pretty wet. Need to find a roof to be under. Come across a county-run camp with cabins, etc. No one is around so we just squat on a large veranda overlooking the lake. Hang our stuff all over the place and hope it dries. Sleep on wooden porch boards, lulled softly all night by sound of rain on forest.
11/8, day 81: This morning we stay in our sleeping bags for a long time, reluctant to get up and ride out into rain, knowing that it could rain all day. It's fun lying there and watching the rain wane then pick up again, occasionally looking at the lake and the fog-hidden peaks above it. Around 10 a man comes finds us and tells us we shouldn't be there, campers are coming at noon so we need to leave. Quick breakfast and getting out of there, our bike clothes only half-dry. The rain doesn't let up all day as we ride, though it changes from downpour to drizzle and back again. Soon we are riding wet, and soon looking for a place to stop and dry off and eat something. Luckily the town of Forks is just ahead. We scope out the town, trying some churches to see if we can hang out in one for the night, needing a place to totally dry out. We are almost resigned to paying for a motel room when we stop at a small Baptist church and meet Rich, who offers us his spare bedroom. We gladly accept and, after being treated to a warm burrito and very welcome cup of hot tea, we settle in Rich's apartment for the evening. He seems to appreciate hosting us despite having some upheaval in his life recently, and we hang up all our stuff and get warm showers. Once again we run into generous, generous people who treat us so well; we only hope we are giving them something worthwhile in return.
Keep in touch - Joe (lappjoe@yahoo.com) and Glen (glapp@juno.com)!