Only a thirty mile ride

    After conquerring three mountain passes from Mount Vernon to Sumpter, I dropped into low and did a short ride of 30 miles to Baker City. A very nice little town with all the charm.  I could live there for a month out of every year. 

   I coasted into town, saw a book store, yes, a book store, spun around to park myself at the front door. What I thought was a passer by being friendly turned out to be the owner.  We checked out the warmshowers.com places and she bicycled over with me to the house.  Wil Drake and Julie Bouchard laid out the carpet, "Here's the refrigerator and bedroom, make yourself at home".

    After I got settled, I rode back into town and found myself the local brewery.  Sitting at the walnut bar with outstanding walnut paneling everywhere (someone laid down some serious money), I struck up a conversation with the guy next to me who as it turned out was the owner.  I gave him the rundown on my trip and he treated me to the two beers I imbibed.  Down a few blocks I visited local library, one of the 2,500 given by Andrew Carnegie.   Nice place with half of it converted into an art gallery.  Over all Baker City seemed to have its act together or in the process of getting there.  Two beers and a tour of the downtown, I head back to Wil's and Julie's house.

     Four guys I met the day before arrived in the late afternoon whereupon Julia cooked a no-holds-barred dinner for us, breakfast was equally as good. Five of us were scattered around the house, yet having arrived there first, I claimed the only guest bedroom.  Age before beauty played into it a bit also..

         A better time couldn't have been had.  Will drove me around helping find a suitably sized flag to sew onto my left rear pannier.  Aside from being patriotic, I thought it might deter the rednecks from harassing me with their close passes in their trucks.  And to think these people own guns and vote.  Anyways, leaving the next morning was tough.  Why can't people be like Wil and Julie everywhere.

     Hooking onto route 86 was easy but the headwinds were tough for the next 44 miles.  Winds aside, Hell's canyon was spectacular; a fast flowing river hemmed in by step hills and exposed rocks. Farmland with snow covered mountains in the distance, out in nowhere but what a ride.

   Arriving in Richland was less than exciting.  Nowheresville is an apt description and Sunday made for even less excitement. The hardware store was closed but everything was left outside unlocked, mowers, wheel barrows, etc.  The owner of the local RV camp where I camped lost her key to her house years ago. People are very trusting out here.

    Two guys across the way from where I  set up camp invited me over for some excellent  IPA's and grilled dogs, a pretty good time was had.  Now for another night in the bivy sack. Tomorrow another mountain pass awaits me.  Ride, walk, ride,walk, drink water, keep moving forward.  I have made over 600 miles and am just getting into the groove.  

      I met a seventy year old couple

, who are riding the TranAmerica for the second time, amazing.  Just like me, they had attached  the Stars and Stripes to the end of their bikes to appease the rednecks.  I felt like a novice compared to them.  What an experience this adventure has turned out to be.