In the summer of 2001 I completed a 4000 mile bicycle tour across the United States. This was a solo tour without a support vehicle, carrying all of my gear on the bicycle. (Nowadays, this is typically called “bikepacking”, but it used to be called “touring”. I prefer this change, as the word “touring” was a little ambiguous, because it could refer either to bikepacking or to leisurely day rides that aren’t training rides or races. But I don’t want to go through all these pages and change all of these references.)

The tour began in Seattle and ended in Boston, using a route I pieced together from various sources: bicycle maps from Adventure Cycling’s cross country routes, web sites from commercial bicycle touring companies, state department of transportation bicycle maps, and conventional road maps.

I sent daily updates using my Palm Pilot, portable keyboard, and the Pocketmail BackFlip acoustic coupler that I held up to a payphone. The daily blog posts are here.

An overall summary of the trip follows. Some photos are below, but most of them are on the daily blog posts.

Washington

In late June I flew from California to Seattle for the tour start. I met with some folks from the bicycle touring e-mail list to do a short warm-up ride, after which we did the rear wheel dipping ceremony to officially kick off the tour start.

I had originally planned to use mostly US 2 to get through Washington, but others convinced me that detouring north to Highway 20 as recommended by Adventure Cycling was the better choice. It was certainly much more scenic than my original plan, with forests instead of deserts, but a much more challenging ride with five mountain passes, each topping out at about 4000 to 5000 feet. Instead of setting a goal of “X” miles per day, the daily destinations were set based on climbing only one pass per day. Camping opportunities were plentiful – in state parks, or even county fairgrounds or city parks, where camping was allowed and even encouraged. I was blessed with good weather, although it did rain on me during the last day in the state.

This was a very popular section for self-contained touring cyclists. Tom and Dave from California are teachers who ride across a different state every summer. They got up too early for me to ride with them, but we still shared some campsites for a couple of days. There was also a couple from Vermont that was touring on their tandem bicycle. Although I never saw them, there were two guys rumored to be riding to New Jersey – later I got an e-mail from one of them confirming their existence. Finally, Keith would ride his road bike without any gear, while his wife Sharon had the car – she would explore the towns and take the gear to the hotel room.

Idaho

The ride went across the across the panhandle of Idaho. There was a really nasty seven mile stretch of US 2 that was torn up and muddy from the construction – I was able to ride through it only because there was an RV in front of me that wouldn’t go faster than 12 mph. (At the end of my tour, I spoke with a bike tourist that ended up getting a ride from a pickup truck to get around this section.) Later I found that the Adventure Cycling maps use the other side of the river, avoiding this stretch – if I only had the maps for this part!

I took a rest day in Sandpoint to do a bunch of things. I went to the bike shop to get a new set of pedals to replace the one that I had super glued together on the road after it had split. The bike shop also cleaned up my bike for me, which had looked like it went through a muddy mountain bike race. I also shipped eight pounds of extra gear back home that I decided that I didn’t need.

Montana

East of Sandpoint, the Adventure Cycling route continues to Glacier National Park in Montana. I instead headed southeast towards Missoula to eventually rejoin my original planned route thorough Yellowstone National Park. I saw no other touring cyclists on this section, although I did bump into a couple of local cyclists that were able to give me directions for the more scenic alternatives to the main road. At one of the campgrounds I also met Jerry, a professional photographer who was driving his van around the west to photograph old ghost towns. I would end up seeing him a couple other times while in Montana.

Missoula is the headquarters of the Adventure Cycling Association, the organization that researches and provides detailed maps for long distance bicycle touring routes. Therefore, it was no surprise that I saw many other cyclists at the local campground. Dave had taken my original planned route through Washington and Idaho, riding at a really fast pace of 90-100 miles per day. Geoff and Phyllis had met up from a magazine advertisement and were planning on heading east together. I took some time to visit the Adventure Cycling offices – I got to use their free internet connection, and they got a picture of me which they might put in a future issue of the monthly magazine.

After heading south through the Bitterroot Valley, the route once again went into the mountains. The passes in the Rocky Mountains are a lot higher than the ones in Washington, with the Lost Trail and Chief Joseph Passes topping out at around 7000 feet. On the other side of those passes (near the Big Hole battlefield) is a section of high plains.

While having breakfast in Wisdom one morning, I met John and Nancy from Cleveland, Ohio. They had crossed the USA by bicycle before and were in the middle of another crossing, this time from Oregon to Virginia. Although they would not be home by the time I made it through Cleveland, they gave me their daughter’s number and said I could call her if I needed a place to stay when I was passing through.

My weekend arrival at the campground in Alder meant that I got to experience the hospitality of a Montana barbecue. There were a lot of friendly “regulars” there, including a couple that drives up from Salmon, Idaho about every other weekend. The campground folks also cooked up a nice breakfast the next morning.

By now, loosening and occasional breakage of rear wheel spokes had become quite annoying. I had the rear wheel trued up in the town of West Yellowstone, just outside of Yellowstone National Park. The youth hostel in West Yellowstone seemed to attract cyclists who wanted a break from camping – I spoke with a German lady who had just spent ten days in Yellowstone and had been on the road since November. Earlier that day I spoke with a few people from a group of eight graduate students from Philadelphia who were doing an east to west crossing.

Yellowstone

Yellowstone National Park offered some of the best natural scenery on the tour. I took a few really low mileage days through the park so I could stop and see all of the sights.

I had an interesting conversation with a lady who was on a group tour. Although she got along well with everyone in the group, apparently the committee approach to every decision tends to get a little exhausting. After talking with her, I wasn’t regretting my decision to do this tour alone.

Yellowstone seemed to have weather of its own. One day I had to wait out driving rain for two hours before setting up camp. Luckily there was a tarp hanging up over the picnic table, which I had shared a guy who had cycled from New Jersey with his two children, ages 10 and 14.

I ran into John and Nancy again at Old Faithful. We rode together for a couple of days until our routes parted ways.

I was still about a week behind my original schedule, partly due to my longer route through Washington and also because my daily mileage had been less than originally predicted. To make up some of the time I had decided to exit the park through the east, instead of continuing south through the Tetons.

Wyoming

There was a pass to crest at about 8500 feet when leaving Yellowstone through the east entrance, although it wasn’t as difficult as it sounds, with most of Yellowstone being at around 7000 feet. This was followed by a gradual, but beautiful, descent down to a plateau at 4000 feet elevation. Being off the beaten path, I did not see many other cyclists, but I did meet someone riding from Denver to Jackson via Yellowstone.

The Big Horn mountains were the last, but toughest major climb of the whole trip, starting at 4000 feet and peaking around 9000 feet. Had I known that beforehand, I might have continued southeast with John and Nancy through Dubois, then heading east to avoid the Big Horns. While I was stopped to take a break on the uphill, a couple from Southern Illinois who had driven out for vacation had stopped to talk to me – they were rather impressed at my trip!

When I reached Sheridan, I made another shipment home, this time it was all of the cold weather gear that I didn’t need for the rest of the trip. East of Sheridan was a lonely 120 mile stretch to Gillette with few services. It was lonely because it was bypassed by an interstate highway of the same length along a different route. Although it only took two days to ride this stretch, those two days felt like forever.

South Dakota

After ten days in Wyoming it was a welcome relief to cross another state line! Trees had finally appeared again as I neared the Black Hills. One night I took a bus tour to see Mount Rushmore. The Black Hills were a popular biking area – for motorcycles, that is – but I think it’s good for bicycling also. I stopped to talk to two westbound cyclists just outside of Hot Springs.

Although I had made up a few days by my Wyoming routing, I was still a little behind. Therefore I decided to head down to Nebraska instead of going northeast through Pierre, South Dakota.

Nebraska

Trees gradually gave way to the open prairie as I left the Black Hills and entered Nebraska. This coincided with a heat wave, with temperatures around 100 degrees. Luckily I was in the half of Nebraska where it was still a dry heat.

I was now in the part of the country where I would have to watch out for thunderstorms. Getting wet from the rain is not an issue, but getting hit by lightning is! Luckily the storms came in either early morning or late afternoon, making it easy to adjust my riding schedule accordingly.

Contrary to popular belief, Nebraska is not entirely flat – at least on the route I took.I passed through the desolate sand hills in the north central part of the state. The only services were spaced 30 miles apart – as a result I had my longest day of the trip – 95 miles – through this area.

There are lots of friendly people in the state who will talk with you forever if you let them. When I stopped for a drink in one town a lady came over from across the street and asked if I could talk to the kids at the vacation bible school across the street. I did, and there was an article in the local newspaper about it.

As the route flattened out in the eastern half of the state the cornfields began appearing. There weren’t a lot of cornfields here, since irrigation is necessary to maintain them here.

Based on total mileage I was about halfway done with the tour – I had a “care package” waiting for me at the post office, with a new tire and other items.

Iowa

I crossed the Missouri River, entering Iowa at Sioux City, where this year’s RAGBRAI bike ride across Iowa began. The local bike shop was very responsive with helping out with the mid-ride adjustments, including the rear wheel adjustments. Although I was in town a week too late to join the RAGBRAI ride, I downloaded the route for the first day’s ride from Sioux City to Storm Lake off the internet.

The RAGBRAI route highlighted the large network of county roads, which are well marked on most maps, including AAA road maps. These “country blacktops” are mostly only used by farmers and locals, and the condition of the roads in the state is excellent for cycling. Since there are an almost infinite number of possible routes for crossing the state, I did not expect to see any other touring cyclists.

People were also friendly in Iowa. At the Storm Lake campground I spent most of my time talking with two couple that were campground regulars. There was even an Iowa potluck dinner for the campground host. Gary even cooked breakfast for me the next morning. Great food and great company! In one of the other towns I was asking around for a place to camp, and someone said I could go to their house and stay in their spare bedroom. Again, nice people.

Most of the riding through Iowa was past farms that had either corn or soybeans, or a combination of the two. Never have I seen so much of both in my lifetime!

A heat wave with temperatures in the high 90s came through – or was it always that hot and humid during the summer? I found the exposure to the sun to be worse than the heat, requiring me to put on sunscreen at least twice a day. There was shelter from the sun one day, however, when most of the day’s ride was on the tree-shaded bike path from Waterloo to Cedar Rapids.

Illinois

Another river crossing – this time the Mississippi – and I was in Illinois. The farm roads weren’t as well marked as Iowa’s, so often times I had to use more of the main roads instead.

I took a couple of rest days off in the Chicago area to visit my wife and her family. After six broken spokes in the first half of the trip, I decided to get a whole new rear wheel rebuilt while I was there.

My Illinois bike maps seemed to work better for the part of the ride between Chicago and the Indiana border, in part because the rural roads in that part of the state were better labeled.

Indiana

Once I crossed the state line into Indiana, I felt like I had instantly entered the land of Hoosier hospitality. Just as I was leaving a restaurant near the state line, the owner drove up and we were talking. Not knowing that I was on my way out, she offered to buy me lunch, but she was too late. Also, one evening at a campsite I camped near three guys who had come down from South Bend to work a construction job – plenty of food and conversation there.

I rejoined the Adventure Cycling route soon thereafter. I had mixed feelings about using a “standard” route – the up side would be that it was an excellent route through the area, the down side would be that I’d be just another one of those bikes passing through. My suspicions were confirmed when the first words from one of the campground hosts were “west or east?” Although no ill will was intended, comments like that made my journey sound fairly trivial.

But the Adventure Cycling maps provided an excellent way through all of the little-traveled farm roads. Trying to explore them on my own would have been fruitless, since I wouldn’t know which ones would turn to dirt or even suddenly end. The route even went through a state forest and dam – hills and trees in Indiana, who would have thought it?

The best hospitality was had in Monroeville, not too far from the Ohio state line. They offered free overnight use of their recreation hall in the city park, complete with a kitchen, bathroom, laundry, and an air-conditioned place to lay my sleeping bag. Later I had found out that another cross country cyclist had ended her tour early about 20 miles away in Fort Wayne, within a day or so of my passing through.

Ohio

The first half of the route through Ohio followed rivers and creeks, which along with the accompanying trees made the cycling more interesting. There were still cornfields on the way, although not as many as in Iowa, Illinois, and Indiana. But you know you’re getting closer to the east when you start hearing less country music and more of other types of music in bars and restaurants.

I was quite fortunate to be reach northern Ohio on a weekend, so that Dan and Debbie (college friends) could make the drive down from southeast Michigan for a visit. Soon thereafter the route made it to the shore of Lake Erie. The sight of a large body of water made me feel as if I had made it to the ocean!

Riding along the Lake Erie shoreline meant that the route took me straight through Cleveland, the only major city I passed through on the tour. The shoreline riding through Cleveland actually wasn’t too bad, as most of the through traffic uses Interstate 90 instead. I stopped at NASA to visit Fred for lunch – I got a few looks from security when jumping through the hoops to get on the site! That night I stayed with John and Nancy, who I had met earlier in Montana. They live in the eastern suburbs of Cleveland about 250 feet from the Adventure Cycling route – much better than having to hunt for a hotel!

Pennsylvania / New York

The route went through the forty miles of Pennsylvania along the Lake Erie shoreline before entering New York. Surprisingly, the moderating effect of the lake provided a good growing climate for vineyards in this area.

Just on the other side of the New York state line was a private campground. At that point I called it quits for the day since it had started raining – the first rain I had seen in days. I was able to set up camp in the covered pavilion, using some of the picnic tables to prop up my tent (which isn’t freestanding). I didn’t know at that time that this would be the last night of camping on the tour. Being in the pavilion meant that I was automatically invited to the leftovers from the potluck dinner that some of the regulars put together – good hospitality on tour once again.

The route continued along the shore of Lake Erie until I got to the outer suburbs of Buffalo. At that point I had to make a decision: either stay on the Adventure Cycling route through Niagara Falls and through the Adirondacks, or take a more direct route to the end of my tour in Massachusetts. Choosing the former option would have been more scenic, but I would have had to cut it too close to my flight home. So I instead opted for the more direct, albeit less scenic, option.

The terrain changed once I headed away from Lake Erie, with steep climbs followed by all-too-short descents before having to climb yet another hill. Things flattened out a little bit when I got to the Finger Lakes region. Then the hardest rain that I had seen in weeks came through the area. Luckily, there was a good mini-mart with picnic tables outside to wait out the rain. While waiting a couple of hours for the rain to stop, I was talking with Miki from London who had started riding from Boston and was headed to Minneapolis.

After the Finger Lakes the route pretty much followed NY Highway 5, which was the flattest and most direct east-west route across upstate New York. Skirting the outer suburbs of Syracuse, I stopped to a talk with a couple from Middlebury, Vermont who were riding in the other direction for a bike tour of the Finger Lakes.

My bottom bracket had developed a crack in the cup where it attaches to the frame. To get the bottom bracket replaced I had to navigate my way through the city of Utica and find the only bike shop in town. Although they dealt with mostly used bikes and had very little in the way of new parts, they were able to MacGyver a replacement (although somewhat heavy) by cannibalizing parts from other bikes for sale in the shop.

For the entire tour I had never reserved any hotel rooms in advance – I would just look for a place to stay upon arriving in town. This did not work in Little Falls, as all of the hotels in town were booked for a retreat. Luckily, one of the hotels was able to find a bed and breakfast for me in Dolgeville, about eight miles away – but up a big hill! It’s a good thing I save a little extra energy at the end of the day for situations like these!

The next day as I was stopped to read my maps, two touring cyclists about my age caught up to me. Steve and Dwayne had just met each other earlier that day and had been riding together for a few hours before running into me. It seemed strange that all three of us had started our tours from Seattle and had taken completely different routes to all end up in the same place at the same time. They were headed to Maine and New Hampshire, respectively, while I was headed to Massachusetts. So we would end up riding together as far as we could.

Steve’s local knowledge of the area far north of Albany helped out quite a bit, as he knew it would be tough to find affordable accommodations with the race track season at Saratoga Springs well under way. Luckily, being able to split hotel rooms three ways helped out quite a bit.

New England – End of Tour

Crossing into Vermont brought on a feeling of excitement that I was about to finish the trip, yet also a feeling of sadness that the trip would be over. That feeling partly resulted in one really short 40 mile day, postponing the climb over the Green Mountains. After a few days of riding with Steve and Dwayne, I split off on my own after Keene, New Hampshire.

Most of the ride through Massachusetts was through familiar suburbia, even retracing some steps from a previous tour. I was planning to stay at the youth hostel in Littleton, but Jeff had flagged me down back in Acton to let me know I could stay at his place – an unexpected, welcome surprise near the end of the tour.

Ken joined me for the ride for the last few miles to some decent ocean north of Boston in Beverly, where we did the ceremonial front wheel dipping. 3959 miles in 70 days! I finished! Yippee!

Tour Articles

My local bicycle club did a writeup of my trip in their monthly newsletter.

Also, my trip was written up in the company newsletter where I worked.

Tour Reflections

I just wanted to reflect on a few items concerning my tour that seem to come up from time to time.

Many have asked why I chose to do my trip alone, instead of with a group. In short, I wanted the freedom to go at my own pace or stop anywhere that only traveling alone could provide – I have no regrets about the way I did it. Also, a solo traveler is more approachable by the locals compared to a group of cyclists.

Earlier in the tour I had spoken with someone who was part of a twelve person group that carried their own gear and traded off chores every night – I got the impression that she felt like she was “chained” to the group. In my opinion, that would be the worst case scenario for group touring – if I were to tour with a group I would prefer a really large group which had a support truck for carrying gear and offered more people to interact with. I think the best situation would be to tour with only one other person – this provides many of the advantages of traveling with others, while avoiding the group dynamic that would come about if there were any additional people.

I also got a lot of questions about the physical demands of the tour: how much training did I do beforehand, whether or not my butt hurt, etc. Actually, the tour was less physically demanding than most people would expect, although some days were tougher than others. I was not in the best of cycling shape before the tour (although still in pretty good shape), so I started off with shorter days in the beginning and worked my way up to higher mileage days. I think that almost anyone can do a trip like this, although a certain baseline level of cycling fitness is required so that you don’t get injured in the first couple of days.

The big surprise for me was that I was more mentally than physically tired near the end of the tour. Perhaps this was because I was somewhat pressed for time near the end – not so much that I needed to put in long days, but enough to preventing me from taking any days off. If I were on a longer tour I would have gone for a lower average daily mileage, taking more occasional days off.

There were also questions about safety concerns: cycling on roads, as well as traveling alone in unknown places. The former is certainly not without risk, but in my opinion the public perception of that risk is highly inflated. Also, the risk of crime in rural areas is fairly low.

Last, but not least, is the age old question, “so why did you do this tour?” If you have to ask that question, then no amount of explaining will convince you of the answer…

Continue reading with the daily blog posts here. A table with the daily stops and distances is below.

Bike and stuff attached to it

• bike
• front/rear racks (not used if using Carradice saddlebag for light touring)
• panniers with rain covers (or Carradice saddlebag for light touring)
• handlebar bag (see below for contents)
• fenders
• pump
• water bottles
• seat bag (see below for contents)
• Garmin GPS
• front/rear lights
• gloves
• shoes
• helmet
• bike glasses/mirror

Handlebar bag (stuff I like to get to quickly)

• wallet
• eyeglasses
• cell phone
• digital camera
• maps
• Power Bar or two
• lock
• sunscreen
• pen/pencil
• LED headlamp (works as flashlight)
• toilet paper (small travel roll)
• toe clip strap (to “park” bike by holding brake lever)

Saddle bag (enough to change a flat without having to go into the tool bag, plus a couple of other goodies)

• inner tube
• tire levers
• patch kit/glueless patches (with a couple of spare rack bolts in the plastic case)
• tire boot
• valve adapter
• spare rack bolts (a few)
• spare removable chain link

Tool bag (and spare parts too)

• Alien multitool
• real allen wrenches
• inner tubes
• spare Speedplay Frog cleats (hard to find on the road!)
• Kevlar spoke
• grease (small amount, for bike reassembly after shipping!)
• headset/pedal wrench (for bike reassembly after shipping!)
• spare spokes (behind plastic support for front pannier)
• spoke wrench
• folding tire
• spare rack bolts
• spare brake and gear cables

Camping gear (none of this for very light touring with hotel stays)

• tent and ground cloth
• sleeping bag
• sleeping pad
• pillow case (fill with clothes)
• camp towel
• rope (can be used for hanging food)

Light cooking gear

• small alcohol backpacker stove
• alcohol bottle (empty for flight!)
• dried food
• matches

Toiletry bag

• razor/shaving cream
• toothbrush/toothpaste/floss
• soap/shampoo/Camp Suds
• comb
• aspirin/ibuprofen/medications
• foam ear plugs
• quarters (showers/laundry)
• cotton swabs
• nail clippers
• insect repellant

Miscellaneous items

• first aid kit
• detergent packs (single use)/clothespins (for laundry)
• duct tape
• zip ties
• ziplock bags
• plastic garbage bags
• extra rack straps
• backcountry repair kit (sewing kit, patch kit, safety pins, etc., all in one)

Cycling clothing

• bike shorts (2 pr)
• short sleeve jersey (2)
• bike socks (2 pr)
• arm/knee warmers
• vest/windbreaker (combo where sleeves unzip)
• raincoat/rain pants/shoe covers
• tights
• warm gloves
• balaclava

Off bike clothing

• shirt (long w/removable sleeves)
• pants (long w/removable legs)
• regular underwear
• fleece vest (doubles as cycling vest in a pinch)
• sandals
• tennis shoes
• wool hat
• thermal underwear

Electronics

• USB charging cables (phone, GPS)
• USB charger (AC plugin)
• external battery
• Bluetooth keyboard (for use with phone)
• helmet camera

I haven’t spoken much here about my past life as a tournament chess player. To sum up my prior post on the topic: I started playing in the early 1980s, rose to NM (National Master) level (a rating over 2200 – the top 1% of tournament players in the US), and then a short time later, abruptly left the game in the early 1990s when other things in life became a priority.

I’ve never really had the game seriously call me back, but on occasion I have given it some thought. Then I remember that in my latter years of playing, I had some holes in my opening repertoire which needed plugging. With the passing of time and with increased knowledge due to computers, those holes would be major breaches, and I might be lucky to make it out of the opening alive. The thought of retooling my entire opening repertoire just to be able to sit in the tournament hall would be a major disincentive to return after a long absence.

But more importantly, for those of us who last played the game as a youth, the reality is that due to the other responsibilities that adulthood brings, we do not have the same potential for upward mobility compared to when we were younger. (Another theory is that when we’re older, we don’t learn and improve as easily compared to when we’re younger.) Is the promise of constant upward mobility essential to enjoyment of the game, or is it possible to enjoy the game without it? Dodging the question a bit, the answer for me in the last twenty years is that I have been continually finding new interests outside of chess which have been new mountains to climb, as readers of my blog have seen, yet which aren’t as “consuming” as tournament chess.

But then my nine year old son started playing in chess tournaments. That changed everything.

He had been playing casually in an after school program for a couple of years. Then he was invited to their unrated Tournament of Champions (a collection of the best players from all of their after school programs) and really enjoyed the experience. Later, he started playing in USCF (US Chess Federation) rated tournaments and preferred the slower pace (and quieter environment!) compared to the more chaotic unrated tournaments.

When the opportunity came up to travel to a tournament with a nine year old and under division, we couldn’t turn it down. Of course, Dad couldn’t turn down the opportunity to do something with his son and play in the adult tournament in the same venue.

Since the last time I played tournament chess was around the time I graduated from college, it was only natural that I touched base with my college chess friends. Tom had struggled with repeated attempts to return, falling victim to losing to lower rated players, then returning to hibernation in frustration. He eventually came to the revelation he wasn’t playing worse, but that a player of a given rating today is stronger than a player of the same rating from twenty years ago. At first, I thought this may have been due to natural deflation in ratings caused by older players leaving (taking their rating points with them) and younger players (starting at a lower rating) entering the pool. Certainly that is occurring, but there seems to be more than that at play here.

(Later, I found out that the scholastic chess scene has exploded over the past twenty years, even in regions of the US which would not have previously been considered chess hotbeds. It’s only natural that if you flood a region with young, fast-learning players, you’ll see rapid overall ratings deflation, because you are introducing a huge point sink.)

Tom presents a plausible hypothesis for “ability inflation” on his blog. To sum up, while he and I were on hiatus from the game, computers got to the point where they could beat humans. That changed the game considerably, with the biggest impact being that anyone with a computer now had an instant coach. Even an average Joe using a computer at a bare minimum – logging the games from his paper scoresheets into a database for posterity – can have the chess “engine” running in the background, thereby seeing even the smallest of mistakes, learning from them and playing better next time. Twenty years ago, the norm was to do a post-mortem analysis with your opponent, and unless a stronger player was eavesdropping, most of the other opportunities other than the major ones at turning points in the game would go unnoticed.

In other words, the whole pool of chess players has gotten better over the course of a generation. I really had to let it sink in that the 90s Brian teleported to today would not be of NM strength. Does that lessen the value of the accomplishment of having reached NM? Of course not, I got there with the tools I had available to me at that time: mainly the school of hard knocks, just playing in tournaments, with no coach or formal instruction, and maybe reading a few books along the way. (On a related note, in August 2002, the USCF Policy Board codified that NM is a lifetime title with the passage of a motion stating “Any USCF member who has had a regular post tournament rating of 2200 or higher (published or not) has demonstrated a significant level of chess ability and is recognized by being automatically awarded the lifetime title of National Master.”) And if the 80s Brian came through a wormhole to 2015, he would have had the same tools as everyone else and possibly still reach NM after ten years.

But was I doomed to be a dinosaur in this new age of chess? Absolutely not! After all, I had access to the same modern tools as everyone else. The first thing I started with was the tactics trainer on chess.com – a collection of online chess puzzles where you have to find the best move. Of course, chess puzzles have always existed in book form, but the interactive form on the iPhone app made them much easier to use, especially during various small windows in life where you have a little bit of free time, such as waiting at the doctor’s office.

It was then that I discovered something about my playing style and ability: I was lousy at tactics – at least relative to my peers. Of course, I knew the basic tactical tricks, but most of my wins back in the day were due to putting the right pieces on the right squares due to intuition, playing a positional game avoiding unnecessary complications, and spending many a long endgame grinding out the win. The tactics trainer showed me that there were opportunities lurking in seemingly innocuous positions – again, opportunities I never knew existed because I had no way of knowing that I missed them.

Jeff, who has continued to stay with the game after our college years, recommended the book Forcing Chess Moves by Charles Hertan. The premise of the book is that grandmaster intuition is now no match for the brute force ability of the computer to calculate every possible continuation. While humans still need to use intuition to narrow down candidate moves because we can’t calculate everything like a computer, we can train ourselves (although I dislike Hertan’s expression about developing “computer eyes”) to more easily find those tactical “shots” that are not intuitive to humans, yet which the computer will still find due to brute force calculation. He has various chapters illustrating examples of several tactical themes from grandmaster games, many several moves deep, with exercises at the end of each chapter. In the afterword to the book, he mentions that he discovered after the fact that this methodology is similar to that of the old Soviet school of chess.

One other aspect of the Forcing Chess Moves book was the notion of how to look at different candidate moves: look at the most “forcing” moves first. A forcing move is a check, a threat, or any other type of move where your opponent has few responses. If the forcing move works, then this reduces your calculation “load”. This concept seems rather simple in retrospect, but in the past without this advice, I had been jumping all over the place in my mind when working out all of the possible variations.

Somewhere along the way, I also noticed GM (grandmaster) James Tarjan’s article in Chess Life about returning to the game after 30 years. I found myself nodding my head in agreement with several of his observations. Though one observation that I could not confirm or deny first hand was the notion of “purging the blunders” from your system. Since I had no one nearby to practice with, I dusted off my chess.com account and played some blitz games. Sure enough, the first few times I was hanging pieces left and right and falling victim to simple tactical tricks. After enough games, I was back in the groove again.

One trap I had to avoid falling into was letting my “low” 1850 chess.com blitz rating (at the time) get me upset, even though my USCF rating peaked at over 2200 for over the board play. Although both the chess.com and USCF ratings use the Elo system, a rating is only a relative measure of strength compared to others in the same pool, and it is often inadvisable to compare ratings across different rating pools. (I looked up the ratings distribution for chess.com, and it shows that 1850 is the 98.5% percentile of blitz players. Yet the latest available USCF ratings distributions show the 98.5% percentile to be about 2150.) Looking around, I noticed that there were some other NMs with blitz ratings in the 1800s. I even saw an IM (International Master) with a blitz rating in the 1700s! Furthermore, I was comparing ratings from blitz chess to slower tournament chess, which isn’t always advisable. So maybe I wasn’t doing so bad after all.

With limited remaining time before the tournament, it was time to shift gears toward openings preparation. I felt my openings repertoire was a bit shallow, and one of my future goals is to widen it. But there was no time for that, so instead I did a refresh of the lines I played twenty years ago.

I had wanted to do some preparation in the endgame. But not all games make it to that phase, so out of practicality, I made the decision to skip that preparation. If needed, I would just figure it out over the board.

So now onto the tournament update.

In Round 1, I chose an offbeat line, throwing my young opponent off guard and forced a concession to gain a slight advantage. But then I pushed too hard, looking for forcing moves that weren’t there, which backfired into an inferior position. I launched a desperate counterattack, thereby missing an opportunity to put up a decent defense. Loss.

In the middlegame of Round 2, my opponent continued to hold the slight edge that White normally carries out of the opening. But he couldn’t keep the momentum going, and I seized the opportunity to launch some counterplay and take the game into murky waters. My opponent slipped up in the ensuing tactical struggle, and I was able to take advantage of it. A much needed win.

In Round 3, I chose an offbeat line yet again. My opponent clearly didn’t understand my plan and lost a few key tempos. But once he figured it out, he mounted the correct defense and counterattack. I felt my edge slipping away, but the tide really turned when I blundered and lost the exchange. (Interesting post-game observation, according to my computer “engine”, I had been playing the right moves, and my edge really wasn’t slipping at all, it was relatively constant until the blunder.) There was still somewhat of a game after that, since we were both low on time before the time control. But my opponent was able to see things through for the win. Loss, but nothing to be ashamed about.

In Round 4, my opponent played an offbeat line was White, which blocked up the position. There was an opportunity to me to open things up, but I (correctly, I believe) decided that would have been over-reaching. But I may have missed another opportunity to unbalance things. Draw.

Pairings for Round 5 were up the night before, so my opponent saw that I haven’t played in twenty years. Since he knew what it was like to return after an absence, he tried to mix things up with tactical tricks. Seeing that I would have none of that (thank you, tactics trainer!), he liquidated to an even position. Draw.

The final result was two points out of five for my first tournament back, not bad. I can almost throw out my first game, because over the board my thoughts were going all over the place. But in my subsequent games I had settled down, and while I don’t want to say I was relaxed, I was in the “zone” and much less stressed than the Brian of twenty years ago. In the past, I’ve always strived to take the path which puts me in the driver’s seat keeping “control” of the position. But after my first loss, the fear of losing left my system, and afterwards I wasn’t afraid to go for the uncertainty of complications if the position warranted it.

One other yardstick I had for comparing my performance was two other people in the section who attained NM about the same time I did twenty years ago. One left the game shortly after I did, but returned six months ago after he retired from his day job. My tournament result was at least as good as his. So I was happy with my result. And I only lost 25 rating points.

But will I play in tournaments again?

I remarked in my prior post that another reason I left is that the game is that it didn’t have the same social aspect for me as it did in college and before. It is nice to have friends to hang around with between games, but since then I’ve learned the social aspect is much more than that. It’s also about having someone to commiserate about losses, discuss ideas, etc. I owe Tom and Jeff a debt of gratitude for reading and responding to my countless emails over the past six months. The NMs at my son’s chess program also helped fill this role.

Furthermore, I had forgotten that the game (at a tournament level) can be very “consuming”. The retired NM who recently returned to the game also expressed that notion. In retrospect, that is probably the main reason I left the game.

Though looking back, the game is only overly consuming if you let it be. Back then, I had a goal of reaching NM, which required all the time that I could spare. Nowadays, I have nothing to prove, and I can simply play for enjoyment’s sake. Furthermore, now with a larger pool of players around my strength, with presumably more options for playing them outside of a tournament setting, may make playing easier, rather than relying on tournaments which take up a whole weekend just to play suitable competition.

I don’t anticipate playing in tournaments anywhere near the amount that I did in the late 80s and early 90s. But if there’s another youth tournament held in conjunction with an adult tournament, count me in!

• Video from Hurricane Ridge
• Travel Home
• Result of Amtrak Bike Shipping
• Routing Options Through Washington
• 24 Hours in Canada – Cross Border Logistics
• Pacific Coast Bike Touring Recommendations
• Future Bike Touring Plans

Video from Hurricane Ridge

Before I go into my wrap-up, here’s the video from the downhill on Hurricane Ridge Road headed back to Port Angeles, WA on Day 2.

Travel Home

Travel home from Astoria went smooth. I caught the morning bus to Portland.

The bus from Astoria to Portland Union Station took my unboxed bike. Upon arrival at Union Station, I walked 20 feet to Amtrak Express, where I just had to remove the pedals, turn the bars, and roll the bike into a box for shipping to the Amtrak station nearest my home. I was surprised to see they had allen wrenches and pedal wrenches, but they said they box about 100 bikes a day. (That may have been an exaggeration, but given that this weekend was the Seattle to Portland ride, it may have been true today.) Then it was just a five block walk to the Old Town/Chinatown red line station, for a half hour ride right to the airport.

The only hiccups after that were a delay in San Francisco – due to summer fog, of course. And, for the first time ever, I was asked to put away my Bluetooth keyboard in flight! I’ve had this thing forever (originally purchased for my Palm Pilot well over ten years ago) and no one has ever batted an eye whenever I’ve used it. Well, it is a wireless transmitting device and so its use is subject to direction from airline personnel – but on a wifi-enabled flight (where the wireless signal is much stronger than Bluetooth) and who knows how many laptop computers and Bluetooth headsets? Anyway, I digress…

Result of Amtrak Bike Shipping

Shipping my bike via Amtrak Express worked well. I was able to ship the bike to the train station about five miles from my house for only $52. (Note: The default loss/damage liability is only $50, but additional insurance can be bought for 50 cents per $100.) Later that week, the bike came back in one piece – literally! I believe the minimal amount of disassembly helps the bike to survive the journey. Well, that and the fact that the box probably goes on the train standing upright and wouldn’t get stuff thrown on it like if it were on an airplane.

Well, upon closer inspection, there was a small scrape on the stem. I think that with the bars turned for shipping, this must have rubbed on the side of the box. Nothing that a friend can’t polish out for me!

Routing Options through Washington

The first question is figuring out an easily accessible point as a starting point. I flew to Vancouver, took a ferry to Vancouver Island, and then took another ferry to Port Angeles, WA and considered that the “official” start of my tour.

As for the routes themselves, the Oregon and California coast routes are pretty well defined, though only with minor differences depending whether you’re following advice from the Adventure Cycling maps, the Bicycling the Pacific Coast book, or the route as signed by the state department of transportation. In the case of Washington, there’s a few different options, since there is no obvious “coastal” route due to the Olympic Peninsula.

First there is the Adventure Cycling Pacific Coast route. This goes south from Vancouver BC along Puget Sound, but then it stays inland before heading over to Astoria OR. Although I know that Adventure Cycling really works hard to find less trafficked roads, it seemed to me that their choice of route really didn’t seem to be in the spirit of sticking to the coast. (Although in retrospect, unless you make an effort to go off-route as I did, you never really get to see much of the coast from any of the routes in Washington.)

The Bicycling the Pacific Coast book has a “peninsula route” and an “inland route” (the latter following Puget Sound), which then merge and head to the coast before crossing into Oregon. I decided to follow the peninsula route from the book, and although parts of the route after the merge had more traffic, it wasn’t too unpleasant, and that routing was worthwhile as some of the best parts of my tour (Long Beach, Seaview, Cape Disappointment, and Ilwaco) were on that section of coast.

Later I found out that there is also the Adventure Cycling Washington Parks map which has a loop around the Olympic Peninsula. So I used this to supplement the book (in particular, using 112/113 to bypass 101 near Lake Crescent).

24 Hours in Canada – Cross Border Logistics

I had to work through the logistics of spending time across the border, even though I would spend less than 24 hours there. At least I already had a passport (especially for flying!), gone are the days where you can just cross with a driver’s license.

The next question was dealing with money. There was no use in getting cash for such a short trip and paying all the fees. I used my US credit card, which was accepted everywhere I went. I was a little concerned at first because I did not have a “chip and PIN” card which is common everywhere else in the world. I had to a pay a transaction fee, but it was still cheaper than exchanging money or going to an ATM.

As an added bonus, my mobile phone plan with Verizon with unlimited texting also includes Canada. I just had to turn off Apple iMessage before crossing, and I turned off data roaming too just in case.

Pacific Coast Bike Touring Recommendations

With the completion of the Washington section. I’ve now cycle toured the entire Pacific Coast to San Diego. (Or do I have to consider Prince Rupert to Vancouver next?) So I believe that earns me the right to make some observations and recommendations, here they are, in no particular order.

First, ride north to south. There is a definite predominant north to south wind in the summer, especially at the end of the day.

The Oregon coast was my favorite part, next best was the Northern California coast north of San Francisco, followed by San Francisco to Santa Barbara, CA. While I still enjoyed Washington as well as Santa Barbara to San Diego, the main draw of those was to finish off the coast route.

Camping or motels? Camping gear gives more options, especially where the towns/services were limited in Washington and Northern California. Oregon and California have the “hiker/biker” campsites which just cost a few dollars per person and no reservations are required. The hiker/biker program isn’t as well established in Washington, but I never had issues with full campgrounds, though as I understand it, they will find a place for a cyclist to pitch a tent overnight even if campsites are full. I had no problems with finding motels in Oregon, so long as I was willing to stretch my distance a bit longer than the average bicycle tourist.

For those out of the area who want the best two weeks of the Pacific Coast, fly to Portland, take the bus to Astoria, ride south from there, and then return home from San Francisco.

Or for those in Southern California, it’s easy to rent a car one way to San Francisco, ride down to Santa Barbara, and then take the train the rest of the way home. I don’t see much touring value in continuing the rest of the way to the Mexican border.

In summary, this is a good route for the beginner bicycle tourist (but an experienced enough cyclist to ride about 50 miles a day) who has done a couple of shakedown overnights close to home. The scenery is great, the route is well traveled by other bicyclists, the weather is mild, the terrain is not too difficult (there are hills – a few of them are long and steep, but no mountains), there are plenty of campgrounds, and there are reasonable distances between other services.

Future Bike Touring Plans

With the Pacific Coast done, what’s next?

For the past few years, it’s been easiest for me to take off time from work during the summer. Hence, finishing up the Pacific Coast was a natural fit.

In prior years, I had been taking off time in the spring to do the western parts of Route 66. But that went on the back burner once I covered everything up to Flagstaff, AZ, since almost all of the old Route 66 east of there in AZ in NM has been replaced by interstate highway I-40. That said, the Route 66 maps from Adventure Cycling should be out this fall. Perhaps they have some alternatives to I-40 using some of the older alignments of Route 66?

There’s always other parts of the country, but again, summer is still my best available time slot at the moment, might be a little toasty…

I’ve bicycled across America before, but don’t have time in the immediate future to do it again. Though truth be told, if I ever went on another bicycle trip again which lasted longer than a month, I’d want to build in many more off-bike days for interesting stops on the way. just to mix things up a bit.

So I guess that’s a long winded way to say “we’ll see!”

Once again, I got an early start. Since this was my last day, it was best to cook the last cup of noodles for breakfast and use up all my remaining stove fuel in the process. I had already used up my Bic lighter, but luckily the folks in the adjacent campsite had one. They had come out from Portland for the weekend to camp, and this was the only campground on the coast they could find a spot last minute.

It was another inland slog on 101 initially. I started yawning while on the bike, probably because I just finished my fifth straight day of camping, and I’m getting less sleep than usual due to the short days. Or maybe it’s because the inland sections of 101, while nice, tend to be monotonous with tall trees on both sides and nothing else for miles and miles.

Then the route went over to the coast, with views of Long Island. Continuing on 101 approaching Seaside and Long Beach, the traffic picked up a bit. But then I found a turnoff to the beach, and there was a neat bike path from there. I didn’t see it on the Google Maps on my iPhone, but the Open Street Maps on my Garmin Edge 810 showed that the path went south for a considerable distance and then rejoined the main route. This alternate had much better coastal views than staying on the highway. The tail end of the path went through part of Cape Disappointment State Park, and then I was able to go ride up to a neat vista point.

Then it was down to Ilwaco to find somewhere for lunch. 101 through there didn’t have anything, but then I saw a sign for the port. So I made a right turn and then stumbled onto the farmers market they have every Saturday in the summer! This area is known for smoked salmon, so I ordered a bowl of smoked salmon chowder from one of the trucks. And the stand next to that had mini donuts, so I got some of them too.

Seeing some different sights and sounds had recharged my batteries for the final push to the Astoria-Megler bridge. I thought the bridge was big when I saw it from the Oregon side at the beginning of last year’s trip, but it looked even bigger from the Washington side. There is no bridge path or sidewalk, which makes this crossing intimidating for many cyclists (I believe pedestrians are not allowed), but in my opinion the hardest part is dealing with the crosswind. Luckily it was only about 10 mph, which would be considered average to light. On the bridge I passed a group of (unloaded!) cyclists like they weren’t even moving!

Just before the peak at the uphill on the Oregon side of the bridge, there was construction which had traffic down to one lane. All southbound traffic was stopped while the northbound traffic was passing through. I was at the front of the line and was talking with the construction workers about my trip and other cyclists who had passed through today. When it was time for the southbound traffic to go, she gave me a bit of a head start to clear the construction area before letting the other traffic through. Once I went over the peak, it was a fast downhill into Astoria, Oregon!

But no time to celebrate the end of the ride just yet, because I had to continue on to the UPS Store in Warrenton OR before the closing time of 4PM to ship a bunch of my stuff home. The lady there was nice, she let me bring my bike inside while I went through my bags to figure out what I would mail back and what I would carry with me. Apparently a lot of people start and/or finish their bicycle tours in Astoria, and a lot of them use that UPS Store.

There was plenty of daylight left to walk around and look at the stores and shops in downtown Astoria, before going back to my hotel and enjoying the first bed in about a week!

Just after I sent out yesterday’s update, Martin returned to camp. He started in Vancouver and is headed to San Francisco. He got some advice from his Vancouver friend to take the train out as far as he could and then start riding from there. (Why didn’t my Vancouver friends tell me that? Oh yeah, I didn’t ask…) Then he crossed the border at Blaine, then took a route through Port Townsend and on the east side of the Olympic Peninsula. Meanwhile, I had used a route on the west side of the peninsula, and so our routes have merged as we both head south.

I got up early and started rolling, as lately I’ve been riding the miles slowly and making stops on the way. It was the coldest morning yet – at 53 degrees – and so once again I was using the rain jacket as a windbreaker.

My plan was to go to the restaurant in Grayland just a few miles from camp, but when I arrived it was closed. It was on to Plan B, the grocery store in town, which had a limited selection of canned goods and processed foods. Today’s breakfast was brought to you by Hostess!

Highway 105 continued to follow the coast, but with very few ocean views. Though I was surprised to see a small casino just outside of Tokeland.

The road got a little rough in places, due to chip seal pavement. I don’t recall seeing (or more like feeling) chip seal in the Oregon and Northern California portions of the route, but it is definitely prevalent in Washington. I’d prefer smooth pavement, but the touring bicycle tires can certainly handle the chip seal!

The weather started to warm up, enough for me to take off my arm warmers. I learned that if you pull off your arm warmers while riding, you can launch your Garmin out of its quarter turn mount and into the grass. Luckily it survived unscathed. That leaves me with another thought: at every restroom, convenient store, etc. stop, I need to remove the Garmin and take it with me, otherwise it would be easy for someone to walk up to the bike and walk away with a $400 Garmin Edge 810 in seconds. Maybe I should start a Kickstarter campaign to come up with a locking quarter turn Garmin mount? Who knows, maybe the five other cyclists in my predicament might contribute to the effort.

Soon after that, Martin caught up to me, and we rode together to the halfway point in Raymond.

It was interesting chatting over lunch at the coffee shop in Raymond. Martin (who is from England, by the way) mentioned that this was a last minute trip using unpaid leave. One reason he chose the Pacific Coast Route was that it could be done with little advance preparation compared to other routes. When he mentioned the unpaid leave, I correctly guessed he was an engineer. He then outlined his history of working for a large company, then leaving and working for a smaller company. (Sound familiar?) Also, we were talking to our waitress about our trips, and she mentioned that three other cyclists had come to the coffee shop about a week before. But they were sopping wet from the rain, thankfully the weather is a lot nicer for us!

We rode together for a while longer, we found a short bike path kind of following the river to South Bend, and back to 101 as it follows the coast. But this time we could actually see something other than trees on both sides of the road!

I reached the 50 mile point at Bay Center and I only need to make it to Astoria OR tomorrow, so it didn’t make any sense for me to push further today. Martin was planning on riding further, so we parted ways. It was good to have the riding company, even for just a short time.

The Bay Center KOA was a good spot to camp for the night. Friendly staff, and nice to be able to do laundry on the penultimate day of the trip. (The mom and pop hotel I had reserved for the next day in Astoria OR did not have any laundry facilities.) Still enough time for a run to explore the tiny town, and also an after dinner walk to the beach. The only downside was that, being Friday, the campground was filling up and becoming a bit noisy, but I had no problem falling asleep.

I started off the day with a short morning run along the lakeside trail. One of my friends asked me how I can still run even on a bike trip like this. I said it’s easy – the birds wake me up at 5, I finally roll out of my sleeping bag at 5:30, pack a little bit, go for a run at 6, then at 6:30 pack the rest of my stuff, and then I’m at the cafe for breakfast at 7 when it opens!

Of course, they really didn’t open at 7, it was more like 7:05, but that wasn’t entirely unexpected. The food took a while since there were others who ordered at the same time. No big deal, since I could charge up my phone and use the free wifi (no cell signal for me there). I ordered a sandwich to go, just in case. The lady there was nice, she wrapped it in foil and put it in a ziplock baggie for the road.

It was a damp 58 degrees when I left, so I was using my rain jacket as a windbreaker. Much of the day – 40 miles to be exact – would be an uneventful ride inland on US101. After Humptulips, the Adventure Cycling route splits off the east, while I stayed on “the book” route on 101 south. I saw a 7-11 as I neared civilization again, so I stopped there to get a Gatorade and eat my sandwich.

Passing through Hoquiam and Aberdeen was a necessary evil to get to two bridges to cross rivers. The riding wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either, and it was easy to see that these cities probably have seen better times.

After the second bridge for 101, the riding got pleasant again when I turned off to southbound 105. But for being so close to the water, I could even see it. So I stopped at a turnout for Bottle Beach just to be able to walk out to the beach, at least for a moment. When I got back to my bike, I saw another touring cyclist pull up. Martin (who I presume is from the UK) was also lamenting the lack of views of the water and stopped for the same reason. He started his ride from Port Townsend, but went around the east side of the Olympic Peninsula (I went on the west side) and now he is continuing on to San Francisco.

Since I have the camping thing dialed in now, I stopped at Twin Harbors State Park for the night. They are the first Washington campground I’ve stopped at with “official” hiker/biker sites, and they have hot showers too. And the campground attendants were nice enough to let me charge my devices until they closed up the office.

I rode into town to do some laundry, but the laundromat closed at 6. (Since when do laundromats close?) Though I found the library, useful because I had forgotten to print my return bus ticket, and I needed not only internet but a printer too. Then it was dinner, a walk just over the bluff to the beach, and then back to camp.

Martin is also here at the campground, but he went out to the beach earlier and still hadn’t made it back yet…

Once again I woke up early at first light. I packed up and went to the registration/gift shop/restaurant/etc. shack. There’s a long winded sign on the front door which basically says “we’ll open whenever the heck we feel like it.”

They were closed, but just as I walked over, I saw a van pull up. So I sat at one of the front picnic tables, using their outlet to charge my iPhone, hopeful they would be opening soon. But instead they did a few things inside and then drove off in the van. So I instead pulled out my Pop Tarts and a banana and headed on my way.

Then it was six rolling miles on Upper Hoh Road and it was back on 101. Per my Adventure Cycling maps, I was expecting to see a grocery store not too far ahead, but that might have been associated with the RV park which is now closed (as noted in their map addenda).

Finally 101 makes it to a 12 mile section along the Pacific Ocean! But you can’t really see the ocean and beaches from the highway, you have to pull out at the side roads and trails, but it is worth it. The first beach was Ruby Beach, which was nice – but I was starting to get hungry when I was about to leave. And I had eaten all of my cold food. So now it was a question of setting up my stove and having some noodles, or cranking out the miles to the restaurant in Kalaloch. I didn’t really want to blitz through this section which goes along the coast, so setting up the stove and boiling water for noodles at 10:30AM was the call.

Just as I was setting up, a couple of guys on motorcycles asked if they could use half of the lone picnic table. Chad is retired military and Alonzo is a truck driver. We chatted for a while about lots of things, most of which I can’t say here. I was falling an hour behind my original plan at this point, but hey, that’s what bicycle touring is all about.

Well, I was glad I had the noodles, because then I could take the time to stop at all the turnouts. Especially by bike, because there are some ones which are almost hidden from the road. I would take my bike down the trail just far enough for it to be invisible from the road, then walk the rest of the way to the beach.

The best stop was the beach at Kalaloch, which I checked out after an overpriced lunch (because it’s in the Olympic National Park boundary?) at the Kalaloch Lodge. I stocked up on snacks at the small grocery store there too, enough to get me to my final destination.

Then it was about 30 miles inland on 101. It’s hard to explain, but the scenery was beautiful yet monotonous at the same time. This wasn’t unexpected from the research I had done. Until the route through Oregon and California, where most of the scenery is on the route, the best part of the Washington portion is the detours off the route.

I made it to Amanda Park and could have stayed at a hotel there. But I’m glad I detoured off route (again!) three miles to Quinault Lake. Plenty of room in the campground, close to the general store which has a cafe, and really close to some short hiking trails in the rain forest behind the lake. I’m glad the Adventure Cycling maps had information on these services off route!

Tomorrow will be a long day, but the days will be shorter after that….