Once again, all my pics can be found at:
Volcanoes of Washington Tour 2008 Photos.
And for details of the trip itself, please visit:
Bicycle Adventures.
Friday 15th was the final day of my previous Tour, and there was a fair bit of travelling involved in order to make the start of the Volcanoes trip the next day! Luckily for me, Bicycle Adventures had been extremely co-operative in getting this to happen: it involved riding back in the van from our finish point of the Crater Lake Tour all the way back to Olympia, Washington (the headquarters of Bicycle Adventures) and an overnight stay there before being picked up bright and early by the new van and guides, and making our way to Seattle, the start proper of the tour! Phew!
The van ride back from the Crater Lake Tour to Olympia was spent in the company of Head Guide Mark. Contrary to my early instincts of Mark, he proved to be a great personality and guy – clearly my issues with him were more of my own doing: I'm not big on planning to the nth degree (at least not whilst ON tour!). He and I chatted pretty much not stop for the 5 or so hours the trip took. This included a stop off a a fast-food Mexican place somewhere (the names escape me – both the locale AND the food-place!) which was wonderfully clean, and had great food. Pity I can't give 'em a plug by name!
So, after a long journey and amusing stories from Mark re: the life of a guide (and he's been doing this sort of thing a long time hence there were plenty!), he deposited a grateful me at my overnight place of the Phoenix Inn in Olympia. Thanks Mark!
It was getting on by this time, so a shower, a quick organisation of my stuff etc, and I was ready to hit the sack for the early rise tomorrow. I rose a LOT earlier than needed – just couldn't get back to sleep after waking in the early am's. So, it was a little wait before I trundled downstairs with my gear and the Dean in tow in preparation for pickup.
On the dot of when it was meant to (7am? Maybe), a familiar silver van pulled up, and I met Diane and Derek, the Guides for Volcanoes. Only two guides and 1 van this time, as travel size restrictions within some of the parks means only a max of 10 people can do the Tour.
Now, I could be wrong, but I think there were 2 couples – Lynn and Richard, and Ron and Barbara – also aboard/boarding at this time. My lack of clarity says nothing about their memorableness, and everything about my somewhat brain-addled state!
So, myself plus an indeterminate number of others (but I'm guessing 6!) piled in (us and the luggage) and on (the bikes) the van for the 90-odd minute trip to a hotel in Seattle where we would pick up the remaining 5 (or thereabouts) guests. I'm confused now, but it improves! Let's just say by the end of the trip to Seattle and just prior to us heading off to our first point of call, there were definitely 10 guests (Judy and Nick, Randy and Cheris, and Kathy rounding out the guest numbers) and 2 guides in one van towing one trailer!
Our destination was our accommodation of that night – the Iron Horse Inn at Cle Elum, Washington. From there it would be an out-and-back cycle thru' the town and along the Teanaway River.
The Iron Horse is a historical house with a railway theme: the house itself is chock-full of interesting train memorabilia, and further in service of the theme, has a number of train carriages spread throughout the property which serve as lodgings.
Here's some pics of the place, including one of the carriages:
Pretty cool – I wanted one, but given that I was to be rooming by myself this tour, I was in the house itself (still extremely nice!)
So, after an excellent and much needed lunch (I'd skipped brekky!) and socialising (I painstakingly put to memory all relevant names by incessantly repeating them in my head ad-nauseum), we got set up to hit the roads. But first – the route talk! I skilfully appeared to listen whilst having a little nap – why stop now? Pretty difficult to get lost on an out-and-back, even for me!
One little hitch about the day – it was warm: REALLY warm. And getting warmer. MUCH warmer. Apparently it had been high-ish 30's Celsius the day before, and was tipped to go even hotter! Hmmm! Just to be safe, I backed off the tire pressures a bit whilst the tyres were cool, and filled up the water bottles with ice and water.
Tootling out of the Inn, we set off through downtime Cle Elum, which looked and felt surprisingly like some of the country towns in my State's wheatbelt where I'd spent some years as a kid: 1 large, wide main street, square layout, railway tracks tracing one edge of the built up area, etc.
This day, Cle Elum was host to a car show, so the main drag was closed off to traffic, and lots of cars of various vintages lined the street. We figured the closure didn't count for bikes, so ambled up the middle of the drag, checking out some excellent rods, mods and restores as we went. At one point there was a really loud bang, and I assumed it was a firecracker, backfire, celebratory gunshot! or something – I later found out that it was the inner tube of one of our party's bikes exploding! On checking, Nick found not only his tube dead, but a rip in the tire carcass as well – luckily a bike shop was nearby so repairs were effected eventually! This was the start of a run of flats for Nick and his wife Judy throughout the tour.
Once thru' the cars, we picked up pace along the route – I was doing the usual 'I don't have my route map visible so follow others' trick. At some point I knew we'd get onto a road which simply went 'out-and-back' and then I was safe – as long as I remembered the route back from that point.
Because basically everyone else on the tour was a couple, I felt a bit weird about crowding them. It was also clear that the riders on this tour were used to riding in groups, but weren't sure about others, so they weren't all that keen on mixing it immediately with unknown quantities, which is fair enough. So I did the old hover around but not too close thing – depending on the pace I could stay in gaps or get out front and hang by myself.
As we got into some nicer rural horse ranch type stuff, the road became a little rougher (but still OK) and the temperatures became hot: hot enough that I decided that, rather than let the water in one of my bottles superheat, I was going to drink it now! Which is fine, except for when you still have a way to go before the return! But thinking is not my strong point.
After around 16km, we hit the road that went out-and-back, so I thought I'd take off. It was a nice road – undulating with a decent surface, and shade in places. From here it was going to be a 36km or so return to the same spot, which seemed fairly short to me. Apparently the road turned to gravel at some point, so I wasn't going to get lost!
It was a nice ride out – hot but not hugely so, and with enough rises and dips to get a good rolling pace going, plus some nice farm-and-fields type views. And bugga all traffic! Plonking along, I was enjoying myself, although the heat was noticeable, particularly when a couple of bits of the tarmac got a little wet and softish looking!
Reaching the gravel, I dutifully turned round and grabbed a quick drink from my remaining bottle, which I just as dutifully spat out: it was hot as! Hmmm, 34km back to the accommodations with boiled water and not much else. Oh well, best take it slightly easier! I'll just stay in the shadier parts of the road.
Fine in theory, but this was real-life, and in this realm, the sun changes angle in the sky and past shade on the road disappears! As I cycled back, passing others on their way out, it got increasingly hot, decreasingly shady, and suspiciously head-windy! Plus my sunscreen felt like it was about to give out!
OK – dilemma: do I take it easy and slug it out, or try and run like a vampire from the rising sun? After another tentative taste of my water bottle, I decided I'd rather die of exertion than exposure, so I doused myself with half of the hot water that remained in my bottle and made a run for it!
Suffice to say that I made it with dry bottles, mega-sweaty clothes, a killer thirst, and my sunscreen on its absolute last legs! The day had turned into a bit of a scorcher! But, as per usual, the saving grace at the end was a cold beer: well, coldish. There were a bunch of bikes already stored in the gazebo, so it looked like some people had smartly turned around earlier at a point just short of irradiation: not-so-smart-me plopped my bike in with the rest of the herd (see below) and scooted upstairs to my shower!
After a chillingly cold shower (I hope we weren't meant to be observing water restrictions!) and a nice read on the bed, I put on my sartorial best (which is pretty shabby!) and headed off with the rest of the guests - apparently all had survived - to the eatery of the night.
Post a lovely meal, Head Guide Diane suggested we crash a little cafe which had great icecream. Drooling in anticipation (it was still very warmish) we shuffled off to the cafe – which was closed! Well, according to the sign on its door it was open until 9pm, but clearly no sign was going to stop this place from closing at 8:40pm!
So, given that pretty much everything else in the place seemed to follow the same convention, we were resigned to going without icecream.
Until someone suggested Dairy Queen – or 'DQ' as it seems to wish to be known as now. I think the corporation shortened the name so as to remove the spurious mention of the word 'Dairy', because as far as I could tell, there was nothing remotely resembling dairy products in what squeezed out of their dispensers!
I've never had 'DQ' before – I never will again. If I was roasting in the fires of hell and in unspeakable agony, and someone offered me a 'DQ' to chill out, I'd refuse it. Quite apart from the fact that it doesn't taste like any icecream I've ever had, I'm pretty sure that icecream isn't meant to taste anything like it does!
Having all purchased some variation of the same white stuff, we'd wandered outside to consume it (which soon proved to be a grand folly!). Richard, an older chap with a killer sense of humour, and an awesome rider to boot, set off a chain of witticisms which had me choking with laughter, on top of choking on this stuff. He spoke about 're-purposing', which appeared to be a naval term for resurrecting something past its use-by date for another purpose, and it went from there. We arrived at a plausible theory about why there was no-one alive who knew the formula for making this stuff, ergo, there was no longer a need to know, as the huge bin outside the place (which was full of 'DQ's' in various states of unconsumed decay) had a pump and piping at the bottom of it which sucked the sorry mass back into a tank where it was chilled, it multiplied and was re-dispensed! Richard was to have us all laughing many more times throughout the tour.
We ambled back to the Iron Horse and went off to our respective abodes. After a very hot first-day ride we were all interested in sleep. I hit the sack and nodded off to images of robot cows hooked to massive machines extruding lines of a substance whose ingredients are forever a mystery...
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