"If you don't go, you won't go."

Prelude

I have long had an appreciation for bike touring but with a background in racing and rec riding, I have never dove headfirst into this pursuit. Years spent working hard for other people and supporting my dear family have postponed the cross-country trip that has been a hope and dream for a long time.

Every summer I try to squeeze in a week-long backpack trip. I have dialed in my pack and list of gear that allows me to traverse the Washington backcountry with confidence and comfort. But I have never been sure how this set of gear and backcountry knowledge can transfer to either a longer, multi-week (or multi-month) hike or to a similar trip on the road on a bike.

Inspiration

As a project to jumpstart my cross-country dream, I decided to create a limited bike touring adventure this summer. Several years ago, I discovered an ultra-endurance racing event called the Steens-Mazama Race. It is a 1000 mile loop that passes through the farthest reaches of eastern and southern Oregon. I have read many blogs written by and about ultra-endurance racers over the years and I have decided that I am not really interested in ultra-endurance pursuits. Yes, it sounds fascinating to traverse the Continental Divide from Banff to Mexico in less than 3 weeks or ride across remotest Kyrgyzstan, but it also seems like it could be seriously type 2 fun: fun to look back on, but not particularly enjoyable while immersed in the actual task. For this summer, I came up with a 2-week trip that would follow much of the Steens-Mazama route, but also start and end at my house near Seattle. This would give me a chance to get beyond the fully planned trip and into the realm of total immersion and improvisation about what to eat and where to stay. As it has a way, life intervened and I knew by early in the year, I would not have two weeks available for bike touring. Instead, I scaled it back and came up with a 5-day trip. This trip is back in the familiar realm of being fully planned, knowing almost exactly where I would stay (I made reservations for two of the four nights) and packing all (well, most) of my food.

Picking a Route

Two years ago, I did a motel-based bike tour from Portland to home following the Washington coast, so this time, I decided to choose some areas that were a bit less familiar. For camping, I like being near mountains as there are more forest service lands. This means the trip needed to be in or cross the mountains in some way. I had already bike toured and backpacked near the three southern volcanoes (Rainier, Adams, and St. Helens) so I wanted to try something new. The easiest pass to cross within vicinity of my house is Snoqualmie Pass. In fact, there is a gravel rail-trail that crosses the entire state and begins about 25 miles from my house. This would make a nice launching point. I knew there was camping in the Yakima Canyon so that was a natural stop along the way. This left a choice of going south or north from Yakima. South leads to volcano country, so North was the logical better choice. I searched for campgrounds within 100 miles of Yakima and found an intriguing location near Mattawa on the Columbia River called Jackson Creek Fish Camp. From there, I had to decide whether to return via another pass such as Stevens Pass or North Cascades Highway. I really dislike riding along Stevens Pass Highway as there are not good shoulders for large sections and North Cascades seemed a bit out of range for a 5-day tour without scheduling some extreme miles. I thought I might find some national forest near Leavenworth but found a state park north of Wenatchee that would make for an interesting loop through fruit country and return over Blewitt and Snoqualmie Passes.

Picking Gear

The next choice was what equipment to take and how to transport it. Most folks these days are either using bikepacking bags or traditional panniers. About 15 years ago, when I did my first short bike tour, bikepacking was just kicking off and the equipment of choice was a single-wheeled trailer such as the one made by B.O.B. It was convenient because it could be attached to any type of bike and is very simple to pack. You put everything in a giant dry bag and strap it to the trailer with a bungee. If you want, the trailer can be loaded with up to 70lbs(!). The downside is, you have an additional weight of 14lbs in the steel trailer and an additional odd-sized wheel. I bought one anyway, because I was curious and didn't have the funds to buy or build a dedicated touring bike. I tried panniers several times (rear only) and found the weight distribution and handling to be awkward. Certainly front panniers might help with that issue, but again, I did not want to modify any of my bikes with a steel touring fork. I found the single-wheeled trailer to roll very nicely on level ground. It's hardly noticeable once you get up to speed. It feels like there is much less wind resistance than panniers as it rides low to the ground. But it is a boat anchor on hills. You have to be prepared to travel very slowly up hills but I didn't find it to be significantly slower than panniers.

I haven't fully come around on bikepacking bags. They are strapped to all the different tubes of a standard gravel or mountain bike. Most drop-bar arrangements use wider bars to accommodate a handlebar bag. There are standard forks with attachment points for strapping still more gear. You have to get used to rubbing your knees on the frame bags and top-tube bags. This setup sounds interesting, but I think it all comes to down to the simple formula: take less gear, lighter gear, and more compact gear, and transportation of gear gets simpler.

Ultimately for this trip, I opted to use my BOB trailer with my normal backpacking gear. I still don't use an ultralight backpacking setup, I like to use what I have until it wears out. My typical pack weight with food and water is 50lbs (35lbs without). I came in at exactly these weights including the following gear:

1-person tent
15degree sleeping bag
thermarest mattress
camp pillow (who wants a stiff neck when you get back from vacation?!)
headlamp
eyeglasses
tp and trowel
kindle
cannister stove with two half-empty cannisters (I always seem to have half empty cannisters at home.)
cook pot
utensil and bowl
bear can (I don't feel the weight of the can is significant and it saves you from having rodents rummaging around in your food while you sleep. It also prevents your food from getting crushed):

ramen,
dehydrated chili,
dehydrated veggies and fruit

(peppers, carrots, mushrooms, strawberries, and apples)

granola
peanut butter with chocolate chips plus tortillas
beef sticks
one freeze-dried meal from REI.
ride food: 2 Clif bars per day, Clif shots, and Nuun.

solar panel and 5000mA-hour battery
spare brake pads
spare tubes (4) + 1 for trailer
spare tire
chain lube and rag
standard bike tools I always carry
camp towels
extra pair bike shorts (one to wash and one to wear, alternate)
camp pants and running shirt (short-sleeve and long-sleeve)
gore bike rain jacket
pair of Tevas
water filter
3 Nalgene liter bottles

This is my first extended ride using a new-fangled GPS computer (Wahoo Element Roam). It was extremely helpful in navigating and I found it saved me loads of time from my usual method of drawing up simple cue sheets and using google maps. I also carry two rear blinky lights (one for spare) and two front headlights. All are usb rechargeable. The blinky's have between 6 and 12 hours of running time. The Wahoo appears to have about 18-20 hours of battery life. I knew I would need to charge these and could not count on finding outlets in the backcountry 😛, so I bought a 4-panel solar charger (unfortunately an additional 1.25lbs) on amazon and brought along my extra battery. I set up the solar panel whenever I stopped for lunch and as soon as I got to camp. It quickly became clear that for extended touring, a hub dyno will be the best way to go. I had the option of setting up the charger on top of the luggage, but never did. It only took one overcast evening in camp to get behind on charging the GPS, phone, and lights.

Finally, I attached the BOB to my Ti gravel bike. It's set up for commuting with 32mm slicks (I added tire liners for this trip to cut down on the chance of flats), very stout Mavic A719 rims, stainless steel fenders, cable-actuated disc brakes, and an old Woundup CX fork. I recently found a very handy Rapha bar bag that can attach under the top tube near the head tube: great for storing ride food, phone, and various arm/leg warmers/gloves (no knee rubbing!).

Day 1: Home to Yakima Canyon

I have two competing philosphies on riding distances.

Since all you have to do all day is ride your bike, you can typically do longer distances than you would if you were just out for a Sunday ride. 100 miles per day sounds about right.
Since you are on vacation, maybe you don't want to ride your bike ALL day. 100 miles every single day might be too much.

Setting Out: The Mighty Wind

I figured I would be fresh on the first day and wanted to get a good start on the trip. I didn't want to camp at any of the camps along the rail trail because most are within earshot of the interstate. I decided I could make a big push to Yakima Canyon. The closest campground was closed for maintenance, so I reserved a site at Lmuma CG, making the first day a hefty 120 miles. I left home at about 6:30am. I soon learned how to handle the trailer and quickly got over my anxiety over whether I would be able to pedal up standard 8-10% grades between my house and the town of Snoqualmie where I could hop on the Snoqualmie Valley Trail. I reached the trail headed to the pass soon enough. The grade is an easy 1-2% for about 25miles. I pushed the pace, knowing the ride-math involved with covering 120 miles. The setup rolled nicely and I seemed to breeze through the 2-mile long tunnel at the top of the 2500ft pass at about 10:30am. There was a section of trail with snow near Stampede Pass Road, otherwise it was smooth sailing and very peaceful. I stayed on the rail trail until South Cle Elum. The gravel got steadily drier and looser and I could feel my speed dropping. The route is only slightly downhill losing only about 800 feet in several hours. I was getting frustrated with the pace through the gravel and decided to switch to roads. It was a fantastic choice. A weather system was moving through and I encountered the most amazing tailwinds I have ever experienced. For two hours I barely pedaled, even uphill. The wind pushed me along, past fields, meadows, and ranches, first on the south side of the freeway, then switching to the north. The wind was incredible, such a joy to have the force of nature at your back. I finally rolled into Ellensburg at about 5pm with only a 16-mile jaunt down the canyon to get to camp.

Snow shed near Snoqualmie Pass

From the shore of Lake Keechelus

Meadow full of balsamroot

Balsamroot

Yakima Canyon

Of course, I was starting to tire at that point. 120 miles is long for me, even not pulling a trailer and the road through the canyon is very rolling. The Yakima Canyon is one of my favorite roads in Washington. The mountains feel old and rounded and dry. The river is cobalt blue and thick from bank to bank. The railroad tracks are smooth and sinuous, echoing the contours of the river. Magpies are flapping and diving from fence to fence and into the cottonwood trees. It really is a special place to ride.

I reached the campground a little after 6 and found my reserved spot. There was a man starting a fire in the fire pit. I said, "don't mind me, I'm just going to set up my tent and clean up". He said "do you eat meat?" He cooked me strips of beef ribs, beans, and a grilled bun. I chatted with "Steve" about his travels, about growing up in Galveston, moving from Texas to Seattle with his girlfriend in the 80s, about the rafting trip he was headed to in Idaho, to party on the river for a week with his friends (sounds like he doesn't drink but was very enthusiastic about smoking weed, even thanking Jimmy Carter for essentially legalizing it). It was a fantastic start to the trip. I slept like the dead for almost 11 hours.

Yakima River from near night 1 campsite

Nootka roses grow wild all over the state (if there is water).

Mountain and moon.

Day 2: Yakima Canyon to Jackson Creek Fish Camp (Mattawa)

Bend in the road (Yakima Canyon)

I got rolling around 7:30am the next morning. I really enjoy biking through the canyon. It's such a different environment compared to the terrain we have on the west side of the state, so many different flowers and bird sounds, and always a breeze.

My plan was to bypass most of Yakima to the north by going up a road I found when researching maps for the trip. Sage Trail Road added an extra 1000ft climb but it was also quiet and there was no traffic. The upper 2 miles was sandy gravel that steepened to 9%, winding through the hills at the top of the ridge before tipping downward and turning to pavement for the descent. I had learned on the first day, that the bike trailer did not handle well above 25mph so I had to ride the brakes a bit on the long twisty descent. I reached well-watered suburban neighborhoods east of Yakima followed by a dozen miles of rolling hills through vast orchards. My gps routed me onto a gravel trail that followed the irrigation dike but the surface looked loose and chunky. I decided to stick to the roads. The gentle rolling hills were perfect, not too steep and without much traffic. I crossed hwy 24. It too did not look to have much traffic and had quite a nice shoulder but again my gps had routed me onto a 4 mile dirt road, called Desmarais Road, that paralleled the highway just out of earshot. The dirt was mostly smoothed with some sections of washboard. The orchards were replaced by fields of hops and a few scattered cattle ranches.

Apple orchard near Yakima

Sage Trail Road

Pavement on the descent

Hops!

Desmarais Road

Distant ridges

Wheatfield in a desert

Finally I was back on highway 24. I stayed on this road for most of the day. I had anticipated light traffic because interstate 84 runs parallel about 20 miles to the south. The shoulder was nice and wide as well. The orchards thinned out as the road subtly climbed betweened two distant ridges. Much of the land was hayfields, watered by the giant sweeping sprinklers. I passed Moxie Dairy which seemed like it could be the largest dairy farm in the world, not your typically Wisconsin family dairy!

The favorable winds were back and I cruised along on a 1-2% grade for miles and miles with little effort. I stopped for lunch in a lane by a hayfield. There were just enough clouds to keep the temperature down but I noticed I was starting to get a little sunburn.

Moxie Dairy

Tailwinds!

Cresting the highway

Vineyard in the valley

After lunch, the road went over the hill and started going down. I passed the turnoff to Sunnyside but I followed the road northward Hanford Reach. Traffic got quite a bit heavier, especially with semis. The road descended into another irrigated valley full of apples, grapes, and wheat. At an abrupt "T" in the road, I saw the entrance gates to the Hanford site. This is a haunted land, poisoned and spoiled by the years of atomic testing and by the vast storage vaults of nuclear waste from refining and from power plants. Many of your tax dollars go toward the maintenance and cleanup of the land. Of course, I couldn't see any trace of the reputed waste from the highway but the land was not irrigated and nearly all vegetation was dried out and gray. The land was also marked as a wildlife refuge, though I also saw no wildlife there.

I steeled myself for the crossing of the Columbia River, not knowing if the bridge would have sufficient room for a bike. I remembered crossing the Columbia near Astoria two years ago on a high-rise bridge near the mouth of the river. It was a harrowing experience due to wind and the metal road surface and the steep climb and descent. I didn't need to worry however as this bridge was much shorter and flatter. I waited for a break in traffic and quickly made it across.

The final miles to camp on highway 243 were not so fun. For one, I was heading northwest and there was now a headwind. Second, this stretch of road had only a thin shoulder and it seemed to be rush hour for semis and giant pickups. It seems there are not rigid standards for road shoulders in this state. Most places had quite good shoulders of 4-12 feet. Not so for this highway. I dodged a few raindrops in between the trucks and quickly made it to Jackson Creek Fish Camp.

It was early in the day as I had only planned about 75miles. The campground was at the end of a long heavily washboarded loose gravel road. It was deserted. No worries about finding a campsite! The campground is located right next to the Columbia River, only a mile or so downstream from Priest Rapids Dam. After setting up and doing chores, another camper pulled in. The guy said he was working at the hatchery. They release the fish (salmon) at night over the course of a week or so. He was staying at the camp to catch some sleep before leaving for his 3am shift at the hatchery. He told me had a similar bike touring setup but had not been on a tour for awhile.

On the far side of the river rose a dramatic ridge of arid, sculpted mountains. I spent a lot of time for the rest of the day watching the changing light and colors on that ridge. Eventually the sun set, the wind died down and I heard what sounded like a gun range. The shooting sounds continued all night. I never found a good explanation for this as there are no official gun ranges on the map and I can't imagine the motivation to shoot targets all through the night. A more likely explanation is what looks on a satellite image to be a gravel pit.

Jackson Creek Fish Camp

Columbia River and hills

Evening light

On the shore

Day 3: Mattawa to Lincoln Rock State Park (Wenatchee)

By day 3, I was well into the rhythm of travelling that is similar to backpacking. Eat breakfast, break camp, get dressed, pack up, hit the road. To avoid the highway, I snuck onto a gravel road that was part of a network of lanes through a large apple orchard. It was very early and despite the "no entry" signs, no one bothered me. I was relieved to be off the highway for at least the first hour or so, pedaling across a flat plain full of apple and cherry orchards in the shadow of another wavy ridge. Workers were trickling down the farm roads on their way to the fields, to tend to irrigation, prune trees, and drive the insecticide sprayers. When I reached the ridge, I turned left (west) and came to the ag town of Mattawa. The signs on nearly all stores were in spanish. The road was wide and I passed several large warehouses including one which was loading potatoes into what looked like a tandem gravel truck.

Cherries near Mattawa

I'm not sure what these fabric screens are for.

Eventually I had to rejoin the highway because it is the only route through the magnificent cut in the ridge through which the Columbia River flows. The highway follows the winding cliffs for a few miles. I made it through without problem and stopped on the road side beneath a towering butte. At the base of the butte were a few small but gorgeous white sand dunes. I hadn't noticed on the map, but I was a few miles from an area labeled "Beverly Dunes". These dunes must have been a remnant from there.

Columbia and butte

Cherry orchard start

Dunes near Beverly, WA

Looking back in the direction of Mattawa

I passed through a few small derelict towns and climbed out of the canyon on a wide but quiet farm road. I reached a wide open breezy desert plateau with views toward distant ridges in all directions. After a dozen miles, the road curved northward and the land turned green by the magic of river water showered from the giant rotating sprinklers. From a few miles in the air, these are large crop circles. There were also a few orchards including apples, pears, and cherries. It was a gorgeous morning. The winds were light, the air was warm but not too hot, and there seemed to be hawks everywhere, perched on fence posts, soaring over the fields, and transporting breakfast back to their nests.

Soybeans in the desert

More wheat

Rolling hills on the plateau above the Columbia

Looking back toward the buttes. The Columbia and highway pass through that notch in the ridge.

Satellite view of the plateau. Crop circles!

Lines and slopes

The plateau ended and my bike and trailer plunged down the edge of the ridge to the plain. I passed more farms and orchards as well as the interstate (I-90) and started dreaming of a sandwich. However, I had routed myself away from the two major towns, George (!) and Quincy. I didn't feel like vectoring toward the towns, so kept on the planned route, knowing that I was in the middle of a planned 90 mile day and didn't want to start deviating too much.

After a harrowing dozen miles or so on the narrow shoulders of highway 281, I turned off into more ag land. There were a few dairy farms, but mostly miles and miles of apple orchards. The terrain was mostly flat and roads were oriented with the cardinal directions in perfect squares. I alternated left-right-left-right as I followed the roads through the orchards. Many of the fields were being sprayed with insecticide. I noticed that when the machines were near the road, they were accompanied by a spotter who raised a flag any time a car (or bike) passed on the road. Then the operator would stop the machine and turn off the spray. Fruit in Washington State is a major industry. It is just as mechanized and controlled as any factory building the other kind of apple products. A day later, I stopped at smaller orchard stand to buy some apples and there was a hand painted sign with a lengthy paragraph explaining the necessity of using insecticides to improve the yield to profitable levels. This state produces very large, tasty, and robust apples, but they are not at all like the apples I remember getting from orchards where I grew up (those old apples made much better pies!).

It was starting to get quite warm and I stopped at the side of a road and had lunch under a very old and gnarled cherry tree. Workers were walking up and down the rows with ladders pruning each and every tree. My days spent among the fruit orchards revealed the immense amount of labor that is needed to produce the bounty of fruit. Water + sun + insecticide + labor = Fruit! Every tree has a water sprinkler to keep it wet so it can be productive. Every tree is carefully trained to grow in the most productive shape, and pruned so that every ounce of energy can go toward the fruit. Many operators must uproot the weeds and apply the insecticide. All that fruit must be hand-picked at the exact right moment so that it won't spoil and will be the best quality for sale. Where do all these hands come from to tend the every needs of the fruit?! Hopefully we are clear-eyed about who are the workers and how they come to be employed in the Washington fruit industry. There was some dissonance on display in front of a house in the prosperous town of Cashmere right next to a large warehouse on the sign which said: "finish the wall".

Rows and rows of apple trees

Rows and rows of cherry trees

I think these are new cherry grafts.

I had lunch under this old cherry tree and watched workers pruning.

The day was barely half over and I had many miles to get to my chosen camp, Lincoln Rock State Park, situated about 6 miles north of Wenatchee. I was about 25 miles south of Wenatchee. So back out onto the highway for the only route through another rugged Columbia River canyon. The highway went up and down several long hills revealing vistas down into the canyon where the river was flowing. Eventually the road dropped down toward the Rock Island Dam and narrowed as it passed another massive hydroelectric station in the aptly named town of Voltage. Again I was getting a bit tired of the traffic on the highway so I found a side road that climbed a ridge away from the highway, meandered along a plateau facing yet another higher ridge before plunging finally down into the town of Wenatchee. I had been watching dark clouds building and eventually raining upon the ridges and high Cascade peaks to the west and north and as I pedaled through the streets on the east side of Wenatchee I felt my first drops. I found a Subway and finally got the sandwich I had been dreaming about for most of the day. I bought two in fact, gobbling one half quickly on the patio behind the store and then stashing the rest in my luggage to be eaten at the next 3 meals. Those spicy italians saved my trip!

The rain abated and I rode the delightful riverside bike path (paved!) all the way through town and out the other side, all the way to the state park, past various small orchards and another hydroelectric dam. I had a nice grassy, lakeside campsite reserved and enjoyed my first hot shower in 3 days.

BNSF crawling through the valley

Cliffs above the Columbia

Dark clouds ahead

Definitely raining

Sage, apples, cliffs

Dam near Voltage

I think it's gonna rain soon

Entering Wenatchee

After the rain. With 2 sandwiches. On the river path in Wenatchee.

West Wenatchee on the far side of the Columbia.

On the way to the state park. Amazing cloud.

The Cascades!! I went backpacking near there last summer.

I was a bit amazed by the long span of power lines up there.

The view of the lake near the campsite.

Day 4: Wenatchee to Taneum Canyon

After another peaceful night of sleep, I hit the road early to beat the heat. The route for the day had me returning to complete the loop I had started on the first day. Camp was to be up a forest service road that starts near the interstate and rail trail. I was a little apprehensive about finding a campsite because the campgrounds up the Taneum Canyon Road were still closed. I hoped to find a primitive riverside site but have never been up that road and wasn't sure what I would find. Plan B was to just discretely camp at the campground. Spoiler alert: I had nothing to worry about and found a very nice, clean, and quiet primitive riverside site.

Mornings in camp are like this.

Back in Wenatchee

A bike path over the Columbia! Very clear over Mt. Maude this morning.

Another river: Wenatchee River.

The hills are green, for now.

On to the riding! I had to return through Wenatchee and somehow make my way over to Blewitt Highway while avoiding the noisy main highway through the valley. Again I was able to find a quiet route through orchards and little towns in the valley beside the Wenatchee River. It was definitely a circuitous route, with several steepish climbs and one road that kept getting narrower and narrower until it turned into very rutted gravel along a ledge above the railroad tracks. The crux of the day was a road called Camas Creek Road. This section started in the town of Cashmere. After stopping in a park for a snack, I started up a road marked as a dead end. My gps said this was going to go through. Quiet alarm bells were ringing in my head. I prepared myself for some backtracking. The road climbed through yet another well-irrigated valley with several cherry orchards. The road ended, but off to the left was a rutted dirt track and the sign: Camas Creek Road. Good enough. I turned left and rode about a quarter mile. Suddenly the road pitched skyward and I dismounted. How long was this steep ramp? What was on the other side? I knew from the gps, that the road topped out about 2000ft above me. Was it this steep the entire way? After an hour of pulling and tugging bike and trailer, I had my answer. It was off-the-charts steep except for a few short sections. Also sandy and rutted, but the views were superb. I also saw no people or vehicles. It was gloriously peaceful even though I was apprehensive about having to descend a similar pitch. I had not done my homework on this one, trusting the gps router. Not to worry. The road pitched gently downward, turned to nicely packed gravel, passed a few isolated homes and a gorgeous meadow before turning to pavement for the two and a half mile descent to Blewitt Highway. Gods were smiling on me over this one. But next time I had to do more thorough homework!

Balsamroot growing along Camas Creek Road

So. Steep.

Pushed all the way up that.

Summer is here! The lupine are blooming!

Nice gravel.

The gorgeous meadow. It was all worth it.

I pedaled about 6 miles toward Blewitt Pass on the gently sloping highway, awaiting the turnoff to the Old Blewitt Highway. The day was sunny and warm, but the shaded highway ran next to a raging creek and it was a great day to be outside, on a bike, seeing the country. Just after the turnoff, I parked next to the creek and had lunch. Then for the next hour or so, I climbed to the top of Old Blewitt. I have ridden this road several times over the years. It's an abandoned remnant of the old highway. Rocks fall onto the road and mostly stay where gravity puts them. It's still driveable but mostly is used by bikes these days. The grade is a perfect 4-6% and much of it is nicely shaded.

The rest of the afternoon was just more pedaling. I was about 25 miles from camp, and the route crossed some interesting ranchland terrain near the town of Thorp. I saw a gorgeous canyon in the distance with the Yakima River running through it and deduced that as the route for the rail trail. I decided to return the next day to see that canyon. My route also took me up a long climb to a ridge right through a reserve of giant wind turbines.

Finally I headed up the Taneum Canyon Road and around 4:30pm, found a campsite for the final night of the trip.

Creekside lunch stop off of Old Blewitt Hwy.

Wildflowers and rocks on Old Blewitt Hwy.

Old Blewitt Hwy.

The view from the pass

Postcard scene

Ranchland and canyon. The rail trail is down there. Can you see the tunnel?

The. Best. Campsite!

Taneum Creek

Day 5: Taneum Canyon to Home

The trip home was mostly uneventful. I returned to Thorp and rode the rail trail all the way to Snoqualmie. I rode 99.8 miles on the last day. The canyon was indeed very peaceful. The abandoned Milwaukee Road rail bed passed through two tunnels in the canyon. I saw no one but deer and crossed no roads for a few hours. On the way up to the pass, it started to rain. The rain got heavier the closer I got to home. The trail was drenched and I was glad to have fenders. In Snoqualmie, a very strong cell passed over and I waited under the eaves at the old rail station. I got home around 4pm, wet and tired, but rejuvenated from time away from work, nights of peaceful sleep, and full of the sights and smells of central Washington.