Highs and Lows
African savannah? - West of Revere, WA
After having had a rough day the previous day, it was pretty easy to convince myself to take a day off when more bad weather rolled in. Zilla and I hunkered down in the motel while I tried to catch up on a bit computer work I’d been neglecting. The day off wasn’t a total waste though, I’d noticed over the preceding months of riding with the dogs that Dogzilla really like to stand up on the front bar of the trailer in an effort to make himself a little bit taller so he could get in better sniffs and see a little further during our rides. Unfortunately, the crossbar that he would try to stand on was very thin and slippery to the point that he could only balance for a second or two before slipping off and then trying again. So when I was across the street from the motel at the hardware store looking for a wrench to tighten a loose bolt on the bike, I happened to see some pipe insulation and it gave me the idea to put some of that on the trailer so that Zilla would have a much wider and more comfortable place to try and stand and one that wouldn’t cause him to slip. I wish I’d thought of it sooner because he spends most of his ride trying to be as tall as possible. I ultimately settled on a pool noodle as it seemed thicker than the insulation and set to attaching it the trailer. A few minutes, and a couple of feet of duct tape, later, Zilla had himself a new custom pad to stand on while we rode. It was perfect!
The extra day off also gave me a chance to try and break out of my foul mood. I was fed up with how rough the trail was and how difficult it was to pull the trailer as a result. Then trying to cope with Captain’s death and the less than ideal weather, it was amazing that I hadn’t given up. The only things keeping me going was that I’d promised Zilla I would get him to Idaho and I wasn’t going to break that promise to him like I’d unfortunately done with Captain; not to mention the fact that Pedals4Paws was now Captain’s legacy and how she would live on. So even though I wanted to quit, I pushed on.
(click photos to enlarge and see descriptions)
The weather looked promising, it was supposed to be cold but with very little wind and a zero percent chance of precipitation. I was feeling a bit better overall too, so I had high hopes for the day. If everything went right, we would make it a major landmark on the trail, the crossing with the Columbia Plateau Trail. With how featureless the terrain had been for the last 100 miles or so, the bridge for the Columbia Plateau Trail would make quite a landmark as I’d seen it in pretty much every single set of photos of the Palouse to Cascades Trail I’d ever come across. The bridge itself wasn’t really that impressive, it was just that it would break up the terrain a bit and it marks the roughly 60 miles to go to the Idaho border meaning the end of Washington would be in sight.
The trail was rough but manageable and as always, we were completely alone. The landscape was taking on a different character too, we were entering the Channeled Scablands. This region was carved out by massive cataclysmic floods of unbelievable proportion roughly 18,000 years ago. Basically, two massive lakes, Lake Columbia and Lake Missoula were formed during the Ice Age when a humongous ice dam, (part of the Cordilleran Ice Sheet which spanned from the Pacific Ocean all the way to Montana!) started holding water back forming the lakes. Eventually, the ice dam melted and broke, instantly releasing all the water from the lakes. The water moved with so much force that it washed away almost all the soil in the area, leaving the Scablands (coulees and cataracts). It is a very stark and stunning region.
The ride made me think of the African savannah. Not that I’ve ever been there, but based on the pictures and movies I’ve seen, it seemed reminiscent. Our only company on the trail where a few cows here and there; though at one point a herd of probably close to hundred cows took interest in us and decided to follow us along their fence line. This was fairly easy for them to do as the difficult trail had us going anywhere between 3-4 mph and maybe 6 mph when the trail trended downhill. I told Zilla that he was a rock star and that the cows were his groupies.
After about 5 miles or so of riding, we came around a bend in the trail and off in the distance we could see the bridge crossing for the Columbia Plateau Trail. It was a great feeling to see the bridge, it really lifted my spirits to finally make to this small yet significant spot. As I gazed at the bridge in the distance, something incredible happened, it started hailing! It was completely unexpected as the forecast had said there was a 0% chance of precipitation, but thankfully, this wasn’t the huge hail that hurts to get hit with, but was very small, soft hail that you barely even noticed when it hit you as it was almost fluffy like cotton. It was like being hit with confetti at a celebration. I was then overcome by a sensation that Captain was physically there with me. It was as if she had wanted to join in on the team’s celebration of getting to this landmark and had used her powers to send the confetti hail. I’m not religious or spiritual so I have no way to explain what was happening other than to say it was a lucky twist of fate for all of this to be happening at the same time at this exact spot under these circumstances, but wow was this moment powerful and overwhelming. And to put the final emphasis on it, after we crossed under the bridge, we stopped to take a team photo. I set the bike up, picked up Zilla, and put Captain’s pillow atop the trailer so she could be in the photo too and then took the shot. I didn’t know it then, but the photo captured either a trick of light or a single piece of hail directly next to Zilla’s head and my head as if Captain had again used her powers and this time joined our photo (scroll back for photo). I have no doubt that she was somehow with us during that brief hail and photo. It was absolutely amazing.
After soaking in the experience for a few minutes, the cold really started to set in and was accompanied by more hail. It never got to the point that it was large or painful, but it really set the mood for some cold miles to come. From here, it was another 6 miles or so to the “town” of Revere. These would prove to be the hardest miles of the entire trail. Maybe it was coming off the emotional crossing of the Columbia Plateau Trail, maybe I didn’t eat enough that day, maybe it was bone chilling cold, or maybe the trail really was that bad. Whatever it was, it was awful. For most of the next 6 miles, I found the trail to be unrideable, even though it was all downhill! That meant that I pushed the bike for most of those miles. It was also too rough for Zilla to walk much, so he got cold sitting inside of the trailer. I fed him as much food as I could to help keep his metabolism up and to keep him warm, but we were both absolutely miserable. If he hadn’t have been with me, I probably would have screamed at the top of my lungs. I was not having fun, I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be home with Zilla and Captain, snuggling in our bed, though I knew this was no longer possible. It was the lowest I’ve felt on this or any of my previous adventures. The psychological toll of my grief and the physical toll of the cold and difficult trail were pushing me to limit and I was about to break.
We trudged on at a snail’s pace and I began to wonder if we’d get to Revere before dark. Even though I was in a miserable place, the extreme beauty of our surroundings didn’t escape me. I did at least appreciate the fact that I was about to break down somewhere incredible, surrounded by the stark nothing of eastern Washington, our only companions being a small herd of deer.
As the miles passed, the Revere granary began to come in to view and got larger and larger on the horizon. The end was in sight and the day of incredible highs and lows was nearly over. When we finally made it to the granary, I collapsed, physically and emotionally spent from the toils of the day. I took comfort in the fact that the worst of the trail was behind us and that our next stretch was about 30 miles of fairly decent roads.
(click below for video)
