Blog

The scenery is spectacular but the past three days have been far from a walk in the park. Yes, we have been on several rail beds and that means the grade of the trail cannot be more than two percent. However sometimes the rail beds disappear because of burned out trestles or because private entities have absconded with sections of the trail. We have had to push our heavily laden bicycles up zigzagging sections and carry them up metal stairs. And then there are the pitch-black tunnels designed and constructed for Rockefeller’s Milwaukee Road line to get through the Cascade mountains. The tunnels are open for cycling but one must have a good light and plenty of confidence to maneuver through the bumpy surfaces. Pat takes them on with a frenzy while I push my bicycle.

The first tunnel we encountered was two miles in length. Upon exiting we were greeted to plenty of rain that just kept on coming for the next three hours. Thankfully, our gear (yellow rain jackets, rain pants, helmet covers, gloves and hand warmers) did the trick.

Drenched as we were, it was also our first night to set up camp. Miraculously as we arrived at Lake Easton’s State Park, which is squeezed between an active rail line and Interstate 90, the rain subsidized. We set up our tent, inflated our sleeping pads and zipped our lightweight sleeping bags together. Our spirits buoyed, we found a lively café a mile’s walk away and were invited to join a fellow camper’s campfire as night fell. Unfortunately, the temperatures dropped to 42 degrees leaving us shivering in those bags. Now we know it’s cold in the Cascades in mid-June.

Saturday’s ride on the Palouse to Cascade Trail (from the state park) was full of gravel. It was extremely challenging for me to stay upright and not get caught in all of the ruts. The high point of the day was stopping at the former Cle Elum depot, which was once, one of the three crew change-over locations for the Milwaukee Road rail line. There we found several historical markers, describing the depot, and Smokey’s Bar-be-que, a diamond in the rough.

Since our Seattle departure, we have cycled 154 miles – not too shabby for we slowpokes. Once surrounded by lush forests, we are now cycling through rich green irrigated farm land, lots of wind and very few trees. The rest of the Palouse to Cascade trail promises more of the same climate, nasty goatheads which love to play havoc with tires and knowing the right password to get through the Army’s proving ground.

Pat is most definitely the stronger cyclist regardless of the weight he carries. We are dining on plenty of granola and Greek yogurt in the mornings, cheese or peanut butter sandwiches and fruit for lunch and every now and again, we locate a restaurant serving dinner. Finding coffee is now more of a fantasy than a reality.

Shevonne and Pat

Follow along as we spin our wheels

So, now it’s my turn to post something on our blog!

Today was the day our “rubber hit the road.”  On a bright and sunny morning, with the temperature at about 50 degrees, we set off at 8:10 AM from the corner of Alaskan Way and Marion Street on the Seattle waterfront, the start of our long adventure. How appropriate, with my decades of experience in construction project management, that the whole area around the start of the trail is under construction!  Better yet, it was a construction worker in a hardhat who agreed to shoot our “sendoff” photo. Many of you know Shevonne fell for me because I wore a hardhat when she met me.

The 44-mile trip to Issaquah was awesome! We rode along Seattle’s waterfront on Puget Sound, which was loaded with container ships headed into this country’s fourth busiest seaport.  We went through the Port of Seattle, the huge BNSF rail yards, rode over an historic bridge and through the University of Washington.  We also rode along two large and beautiful lakes and followed the Sammamish River for several miles. The entire ride today was along rail trails or designated bike lanes.  Seattle and neighboring King County have built cycling trails throughout the area; they crisscross everywhere.  And they are heavily used!

The stuffed bike bags continue to generate friendly conversations. When fellow cyclists ask us where we are going, their jaws drop when we answer. We also got a great tip from a cyclist who directed us to a fine Indian restaurant. Other highlights of the day included saying “Congratulations!” to a young lady in her graduation cap and gown getting her photos taken next to the river, learning some of the history around Lake Sammamish, watching some women practice sculling along the Seattle Ship Canal and discovering that there’s a large effort to restore salmon in the local lakes and rivers.

After two nights in the Hyatt Hotel in Seattle, we are spending the night in a Motel 6 in Issaquah. Within minutes of our arrival, the Issaquah Police were scoping the joint in front of our window, talking with a very upset young woman and her baby and laying down the law with the motel’s manager. Curious, Shevonne asked one of the police officers if we were going to be safe. He reminded us that we are staying in a Motel 6 and stupid things happen here.  Well, at least they left the lights on for us!

Follow us as we keep on spinning.

Pat and Shevonne

Not quite, although after three days of living and sleeping (first in coach and then in bunk beds)  on two Amtrak trains we are ready for our last bit of luxury before we begin cycling east. The past few days were full of pleasure and the unexpected. We chatted with other travelers, were exposed to exquisite scenery, provided care to a needy passenger and fell in line with the regimented Amtrak rules. We had our share of microwaved TV dinners ( because of the pandemic they have not been preparing fresh meals ), coped with no running water in the bathrooms for several hours and maintained our composure when we discovered we had purchased train tickets to Chicago on the Cardinal through Virginia, West Virginia and then back up through Kentucky, Ohio and Indianapolis (a 24 hour trip) rather than the much quicker route through Maryland and Pennsylvania. 

We quickly learned about shift changes, smoke breaks, how to take a shower in a moving train  and when a conductor threatens to throw someone off the train, they mean business. In Charleston, WV, a man sitting directly across from us, was handcuffed and removed from the train by three local police officers when he refused to stop badgering the conductor and continued to escalate. Unfortunately, he left his partner to fend for herself. She was terrified without him, had no money and held on tight to a teddy bear from Shoney’s. We soon recognized she had some cognitive challenges and everyone in the train car stepped up to help her get through the next several hours. 

Once on the Empire Builder in Chicago, we secured a roomette, all of four feet by seven feet. Cramped but doable as long as our panniers stayed in a luggage area, this train offered us private sleeping quarters and an observation car equipped with swivel chairs, glass ceilings and windows. People played cards, drank soda and beer and kept their eyes on the ever changing scenery. Pat and I were introduced to much of North Dakota’s landscape, the Rocky Mountains throughout Glacier National Park and the raging rapids in the state of Washington.

It’s a chilly day here in Seattle but the sun is shining and we are taking some time to recharge and repack. We plan on leaving Wednesday morning on the Great American Rail Trail. All aboard.

Shevonne and Pat

Follow us as we spin our wheels.

P.S.  A special shout out to Sue and Bill Zekas who threw us a bon voyage gathering before we left the Mad River Valley. It was a truly special evening.

10. Pat needs to find space for his toothbrush in his pack.

9. During the height of black fly season, it’s important to bring along insect repellent. (We did not and it was disastrous).

8. Panniers on one’s bicycle are an instant way to make new friends. (People want to talk to you and find out where you ae from and where you are going).

7. When a Vermont State Police officer asks you whether you might need a place to stay for the night, say “perhaps” rather than “we are all set.” (As it turned out we were far from set.

6. When you are trying to sneak into a state park campsite, wait until the employee who is leaving gets the gate unlocked and re-locked. (Message – don’t ride right up to him and ask him whether you can camp there like I did). That also did not go well.

5. Make sure that the plug for the self-inflating sleeping pad is secure before sleeping on it. (Otherwise be prepared for a night of twists and turns. Ouch!)

4. It’s impossible for two individuals to try and change their clothes in our tent at the same time. 

3. When climbing up long hills, stop and take a breather rather than try to beat your partner to the top. (I almost passed out in my effort to show Pat up).

2. It’s not that easy to purchase a single can of beer in a grocery store. ( We dined on chocolate milk instead).

1. Sleeping enhancements may become an essential when sleeping in such close quarters. 

In summary, our experimental trek was far from easy but we endured regardless of the flies and the unfriendly state park person. Thank goodness we had brought along some challenging crossword puzzles

Our journey on the Amtrak train west to Seattle begins on the morning of June 4th. Stay tuned as we share our stories across the US of A. We plan to begin cycling on the Great American Rail Trail on the morning of June 9th. 

Shevonne and Pat

When my father, Henry Walp, was 22 years of age in the summer of 1939, he traversed the country by bicycle. No stranger to adventure, he had already completed a stint in the Army in Oahu and was itchy to go west once again. Perhaps he missed the Pacific Ocean or perhaps he had a hankering to experience California. Whatever the reason, he found a bicycle he thought ride worthy for the trip – a one speed-pulled together a bed roll and tied it to the rear of the bicycle and headed west from Pittsburgh to San Francisco. He stashed whatever savings he had in his pocket and existed on several cans of beans to keep his energy in check. As night fell, he kept a look out for cemeteries because they usually had water and were safe, inconspicuous places for resting. And although he traveled on plenty of washboarded roads, he never had one flat tire. When he arrived in San Francisco on September 1^st, the headlines in the newspaper announced that Germany had invaded Poland.

Because I was captivated by my father’s resilience (he knew if he wanted to get to the gold coast, cycling was his best option) I have always imagined attempting the same journey.  And though I am now in my sixties, I am determined to tackle the cross- country trek this summer from the other direction. While I believe our journey will be easier – there are two of us meaning we can carry more, we have many more amenities (hydro flasks, rechargeable front and rear lights, waterproof panniers and a lightweight tent), we will alternate where we sleep (inside and under the stars) and we have lots of detailed maps to guide us, I am sure we will face our share of challenges. While the roads my father cycled had far fewer vehicles than today’s roads, over half of our travel will be on retrofitted railroad beds and the rest will be on the shoulders of two lane roads.

I do, however, plan on bringing a trusty can opener so I can try my hand at eating lots of cold baked beans along the way,  Stay with us as we spin our wheels.

Shevonne and Pat