Safe Return Doubtful

66 miles (106 km) – Total so far: 321 miles (516 km)

I made the error of eating at the gas station cafe last night and made it again this morning. I thought cooking eggs would be easier, but the omelette came with chilli beans in it and I struggled to digest for the next few hours. It was a lengthy process also as 24 wild fire fighters had just arrived before me. It was good to chat with the young volunteers though. This vast area of high pressure that the north west US is in is giving the crazy high temperatures and encouraging the fires. Many locals won’t leave their houses for fear of inhaling the bad air.

Republic is at 720 metres so it was only 12 C this morning, and the climb up the last and highest pass went well, I was at the top at 11:15. A speedy downhill also into the heat and across the Columbia river. The route 20, which I have been on throughout, joins a couple of bigger roads for a few miles here. The uphil from the river was the scariest cycling yet, lots of big trucks and practically no shoulder. Kettle Falls isn’t awfully inspiring either, so onto Colville and stock up at the supermarket for a camp out of town. There is a huge road bike event on tomorrow and any sort of accommodation was booked out. It’s uphill again from Colville at 500 metres to where I’m camped tonight at Starvation Lake. No chance of that with me, a couple of beers and Lofoten Fish soup (left over from last year’s ride) with broccoli. The site is empty also as currently there is no fishing allowed in the lake. There’s one other camper, an Alaskan couple in a caravan, just here for the wildlife, running some trails and climbing. And for the two sites, there’s a ‘camp host’. These people stay from April to October and look after the campers. Big Bill gave me lots of information about the area and charged my gps. A very peaceful evening.

Breaking campmat the County Fairground, watching a bit of the Old Trafford test.

Not really any sun today due to the smoke. Cooler yes, but the air is not so good.

White Mountain. There are two huge fires north in British Columbia and another in Montana.

The last of the 5 Washington – Northern Tier passes, and the highest paved bit of road in the State.

Just before the war this camp was set up as part of Roosevelt’s New Deal. There were several others like it. It was for working class men and army to get to live in the wilderness for a period, usually a month. This is Sherman Camp and it expanded to accommodate more than 50 men during its ten years, in tents. The only building left now is the Bath House.

Crossing the Columbia River, th biggest in the Pacific North West.

Trying to get gear cable adjusted (again) – and failing – this time for 3$…

At Starvation Lake – all the necessary items for a good evening, until the mosquitoes ushered me to bed about 8:30 pm.

Storytime:

Indian Food

Nigel didn’t share my love for Indian food. Most of the Birkenhead Park cricket team did though so he was caught up with the crowd after a match at Neston. I’m going to estimate at 1987 but will stand corrected. The Parkgate Tandoori had not been well-designed for cricket teams eating in their late in the evening after a few beers. Near the entrance there was a 3 foot deep and 6 feet squared goldfish pond. Many was the cricketer that went unvoluntarily in there.

Nigel didn’t even like popadoms. When our good friend Joe (opening quick bowler) went to the bathroom after decorating his with chutneys, he came back and sat on it. No need to name the guilty party.

They loved their animals at the restaurant and had a stuffed mongoose with a large stuffed snake in its mouth high up on a shelf. As the meal was ending silently and with much stealth Nigel clambered somehow onto the shelf which extended around the room. Most of the other patrons had left by this time and the waiters were relaxing, done for the night. Incredibly avoiding a fall he managed to get the creatures and they were taken home with us. Despite being moth-eaten, flea-ridden and odourous the mongoose and its prey were hoisted to stardom and became the trophy for the next few matches between Park and Neston, stationed prominently in the pavilion on each occasion. When Neston won though, we still had to take it home, a bit like the Ashes.

Just a couple of days after Christmas of 2011 I managed to persuade Nigel (no problem with Sandra) to get an Indian take away. I had enjoyed one before when I dog sat for them on their short honeymoon. Ironically I was ill the next day with food-poisoning. He was to be diagnosed in the next few days, but really he knew. In subsequent years he always joked with me,
“Remember the time you complained and had people running around all day, when I had cancer.”