Having weathered the thunderstorm relatively unscathed, Dogzilla and I found ourselves less than 8 miles from the Idaho border. Today was going to be our day, we were going to finish the Palouse to Cascades Trail and we were going to finish our ride across the entire state of Washington! I knew it wasn’t going to be easy though as the upcoming section of trail is notoriously muddy and with the recent thunderstorm, I figured it was going to be pretty beat-up.

But before worrying about the mud, we had one final landmark, the Tekoa Trestle. Like the bridge over the Columbia River, the Tekoa Trestle had been closed for a number of years and had just reopened 2 months prior to our arrival, though actually, the official grand opening ceremony was still a week or so away. Getting to use the newly reopened bridge would allow us to save a few hill climbs and detour through the town of Tekoa and instead allow us to see the town from above. As we got to closer to the bridge though, I heard a truck on the path coming up from behind me. I was still annoyed with the Jeeps from a few days prior so when I pulled over to let the truck pass, I was surprised when the man driving it stopped and asked me if I’d seen two dogs run by recently. Evidently, he lived in the area and his dogs had escaped from his yard and were on the loose. Unfortunately, we hadn’t seen them but took the man’s number just in case and then he turned around.

At nearly 1,000 feet in length, the Tekoa Trestle spans over Hangman Creek in the small, but beautifully set town of Tekoa, Washington. Originally used by the Milwaukee Railroad, the bridge had been restored to its former glory so that hikers, bicyclists, and horse riders alike could enjoy the Palouse to Cascades/Great American Rail Trails without having to detour along the limited road network through the area. Being roughly 115 feet tall, the trestle provided a beautiful vantage point to view the picturesque valley below and hills and mountains in the distance. It didn’t escape me either that some of those hills and mountains we could see from here were in Idaho! The bridge itself is less than 2 miles from the Washington/Idaho border, but because of the terrain, it’s roughly 6 miles from where the trail crosses.

As we started to cross the bridge is when I was hit with the realization that we were actually going to make it to Idaho. I was going to make good on my promise to Zilla to get him to Idaho! This should have been a wonderful feeling, but almost simultaneously, I was reminded of how I’d fallen a mile short on my promise to get Captain to the Columbia River. I decided to stop for a few moments to take in the views and clear my head a bit. I was able to do so by trying to focus on seeing if I could use my 115 foot height advantage to find some loose dogs. I didn’t see them, but searching for them did help provide me with a much needed distraction.

Shortly after crossing the bridge, we ran into another cyclist on the trail. We exchanged a quick hello as the man rode by. It looked like he probably lived in Tekoa and was just out for a leisurely jaunt to check out the newly opened trestle. Then a short distance east, we saw a very small farmette that had a couple of sheep right next to the trail, so Zilla and I stopped to say hello figuring the sheep might be interested in a little change to their day. One of the sheep took a few minutes to stop by, but overall seemed unimpressed with us in general, even after I told him that Zilla and I had ridden hundreds of miles from the Pacific Ocean and were about to finish our journey across Washington. Either sheep are hard to impress or I thought Zilla’s and my accomplishment was more exciting than it really was. Regardless, Zilla and said our goodbyes and were on our way.

As we rode along, Zilla found a wonderful, clean puddle to play in and take a drink from and I thought to myself, “I hope this is the worst of what we find”. Oh man, I couldn’t have been further from the truth! A mile or later, we came to a cut through a hillside and in the middle was a massive, stagnant puddle that was big enough to make most swimming pools jealous. Because of sloped terrain on either side, there was no option but to go through it. Getting closer, the ground became a thick, pasty mud that stuck to everything it touched. It was obvious from all the tire tracks that the locals and local farmers couldn’t care less that it was illegal to drive on the trail and their tracks and ruts were part of the problem creating this mud pool in the first place. I put Zilla back in the trailer and we started across the first of what wound up being about 5 similarly sized pools.

It wasn’t so bad at first, but quickly, the pool got deeper and deeper, ultimately getting as high as my knee! I figured that it was probably shallowest near the edges, so I made sure to push the bike and trailer as close to the edge as I could so that the bottom of the trailer would hopefully stay out of the water and not act as an anchor. It was slow going as the footing at the bottom wasn’t flat but instead in the tread pattern of massive, 4-foot-tall farm tires with similarly deep tread, so I had to take each step carefully so as not to twist an ankle before then ultimately sinking down into the deep mud. At one point, I sank deep enough that the suction started to pull my shoe off. With a little bit of luck, I managed to get my foot back in it before it was lost. At this point, I started to laugh. I had wanted this trip to be an adventure and the trail saved the roughest conditions for the last 3-4 miles. So much for coasting into the finish line!

The rest of the mud puddles were similarly difficult, but I didn’t let that bother me. At this point, I was focused on the fact that in a few miles, this part of our journey would be over, but more importantly, I would have kept my promise to get Zilla to Idaho! After what I had hoped would be the last of the puddles, a several hundred-yard-long behemoth, we stopped for a couple minutes so that I could try and wipe some of the mud off myself, the bike, and the trailer as it was starting to stop the wheels from spinning properly. It took a little work to find some sticks that were suitable for the job laying on the ground. I could have just broken a few branches off of the trees lining the trail, but if everybody did that, the trees would be dead, so I thought it more important to clean ourselves in the least destructive way possible.

Having “cleaned” the bike as best I could, Zilla and I started down the home stretch to the border. As we rolled, I was overcome by a wave of emotions. I was excited that we were almost done with crossing the state of Washington but a little sad too as I knew I would miss this special time together that I’d spent with the dogs, I was devastated that this moment was going to be my first life triumph in 13 years that had been spent without Captain by my side, I was anxious to see what Idaho had to offer, and I was reflective about what this journey had meant for me. Not wanting to rush the moment, Zilla and I stopped for a long break in the shade and I shared a nice heart to heart moment with him basically just thanking him for all the great times we’d had together and experienced as a team. After lots of kisses, it was time to cover the last couple miles to Idaho.

Since this was a big deal, I decided to take Captain’s pillow out of the trailer and put it in a position of honor in my handlebar bag, kind of like she was the queen in the homecoming parade. It was wonderful to see her face looking back at me again on the trail as we carried down the trail. About 2 miles from the border, I heard a crash off in the woods to my side and turned just in time to see a young, female moose running through the brush. Apparently, the sight or sound of Captain, Zilla, and I had spooked her. She was gone almost as quickly as I had seen her, so I didn’t get any photos, but it was a very spiritual moment for me as at the end of her life, I started to tell Captain that she was a moose. The radiation treatments had sadly killed a portion of her brain and so it changed the way that she walked and moved from the very agile McNab that she was to the much more deliberate and awkward movements of a moose. The was why I made the video “Northen Pigposure” and had Captain play the role of “The Moose” in the opening credits of “Northern Exposure”. To have a young female appear at the very end of our journey just a few minutes from the border was like having Captain come back to share in our celebration. It meant so much to me and I was momentarily overwhelmed.

With the emotional high of seeing the moose, the final 2 miles to the border were a blur. Being as remote as we were, the border isn’t marked like many border crossings are with massive signs stating, “Welcome to Idaho”, but about 30 yards from the border, there was a small sign stating, “"END OF WA DNR MILWAUKEE ROAD CORRIDOR"“ and a short distance beyond the sign was the intersection of a dirt road (aptly named “Idaho Road”) and the trail. The true border was at that intersection just a few feet away. This marked the end of the Palouse to Cascades Trail, but the Great American Rail Trail, or true goal, carried on for some 3,500 miles further.

I stopped for a moment to give Zilla a kiss and thank him again for being my faithful adventure buddy and did the same with Captain via her pillow. We then rode the final few feet to the border, but our adventure didn’t end here, it was just getting started….