Cherry Country

Nobody bothered me during the night and I only woke up a few times from noises, but I was safe behind my locked door.  No service, so no way to contact Quinton.  Only thing left to do was ride on.  

Limited fruits, but plenty of assorted liquor

We had made plans to meet and stay with a cousin across the mountain pass.  All we had to do was get there.  I got up early, wanting to get as many miles in before it got too hot and smokey.  My first stop was at a truck stop and grocery  where I filled up on water and made a peanut butter, honey, and banana burrito.  Inside, was a large gift shop with free popcorn to eat as you shop.  I took full advantage, eating a couple bags.

The rest of the day was agonizingly slow.  I was exhausted and each pedal stroke seemed to take all of my effort.  I blamed it on the heat and smoke.  I must have stopped at every exit to rest and wait for motiviation to strike.  I even got a coffee drink in hopes that the caffeine would get me going.  Fifteen miles from the top of Lookout Pass and the Idaho border I stopped at a sign saying last chance for cherries.  For the past 100 miles there were signs everywhere for cherries, so I figured I might as well.  And, it was another chance to rest.  I bought a bag of Rainier cherries and sat down in the cold creek.  I had never tasted cherries so sweet and fresh.  Not sure if it was the cherries, the cold water, or my exhaustion that made them taste so good.  

Surely I could go another 15 miles to the top and then coast downhill the rest of the way to Wallace, ID.  I mounted the bike determined to make it up the hill, but only made it 5 miles when I saw another rest area sign.  I wouldn’t have given in if it weren’t for the free coffee sign.  That sign means someone is setup with homemade baked goods and drinks.  Seemed like a good enough spot to wait on Quinton.  Two ice cold lemonades, a brownie, and two cookies and I was ready for a nap.  I asked the lady at the stand to direct the next cyclist to my napping spot and then laid down in the grass behind a pavilion.  

When Quinton arrived he looked as tired as I felt.  We caught up after he took advantage of the free snacks.  I told him all about my stealth the night before and the rest of my day and he fille me in on his adventure.  As much as I like being on my own it is nice to be able to share the experience with someone that understands.  We decided the rest area would do for the night.  Still no service, I used the payphone to get a message to my cousin that I would not make it.  

Quinton, nervous about getting run off, scouted the woods around the rest area for a place to pitch the tent.  I liked the pavilion and setup there.  I angled the tent and bike so that it couldn’t be seen from the road or building.  We met the rest area attendent and I tried to build a rapport so he would be less likely to kick us out.  No problems!

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