This morning, I'm finishing up a gi-nor-mosterous breakfast prepared by Debra of the Elkhorn B & B, and as I'm gazing contentedly out the front room windows, there goes another cyclist, loaded down, in a red recumbant bike going MY direction!! The first of the kind! Wow! Gotta catch him...
Packed darn quick, and roared outta Mesa, 6 miles thru Council, up a stubborn 3 mile hill, and then thru pine forests, campgrounds and onto New Meadows, where the Granite Cafe beckons me in for lunch. The phantom ahead of me has left me a "crumb" along the way in the form of a biker's mesh bag full of Cliff Bars. Now I really wanted to find him!
So, as I'm settling into lunch of bean soup, a burger and a bucket of lemonade, an old grizzled man wanders over and starts asking me questions, the type that I'm starting to hear more and more of. You know>> "Where ya goin' ", "Is that your dog I saw you with?", etc, etc. After a short conversation, I am introducing myself to Dave Manley, a 62 y.o. lifelong resident of New Meadows, and we plunge into an hour of trivia and lore from the WW2 logging days thru today's recession, with a few dispariging words about "those treehuggers". It was truly a delightful experience hearing him speak and seeing his eyes light as he recounted. Afterward, I realized that someday I'll be that old guy with stories just like his and will, no doubt, yearn for a patient listener. (Of course, in today's blog age, all the stories are already told) Dave also mentioned that he had met the phantom recumbant cyclist just before me and that he had turned north to Riggins. Oh well, cuz I was going south. Hey, now I got a new mesh bag and some extra Cliff Bars.
Pushing on, I face up to my first 7% grade climb on a windy, shoulderless, hot canyon road. I saw my slug-o-meter drop to a new low of 3.3 mph. Traffic was patient, the dog didnot dessicate and we triumphed at Brundage Summit (5324') in a couple of hours. (I took scalp in the form of a "Brundage Mtn. Ski Resort" roadcap found en route) A welcome downhill brings me into the resort town of McCall, full of trophy houses, ski bums, boat shops (sits on gorgeous Lake Payette) and tourists awandering about. We slide thru town and once again park at a friendly Super8 motel. Before I check in, Brindil is presented with a milkbone. Day off tomorrow!!!!!!
Packed darn quick, and roared outta Mesa, 6 miles thru Council, up a stubborn 3 mile hill, and then thru pine forests, campgrounds and onto New Meadows, where the Granite Cafe beckons me in for lunch. The phantom ahead of me has left me a "crumb" along the way in the form of a biker's mesh bag full of Cliff Bars. Now I really wanted to find him!
So, as I'm settling into lunch of bean soup, a burger and a bucket of lemonade, an old grizzled man wanders over and starts asking me questions, the type that I'm starting to hear more and more of. You know>> "Where ya goin' ", "Is that your dog I saw you with?", etc, etc. After a short conversation, I am introducing myself to Dave Manley, a 62 y.o. lifelong resident of New Meadows, and we plunge into an hour of trivia and lore from the WW2 logging days thru today's recession, with a few dispariging words about "those treehuggers". It was truly a delightful experience hearing him speak and seeing his eyes light as he recounted. Afterward, I realized that someday I'll be that old guy with stories just like his and will, no doubt, yearn for a patient listener. (Of course, in today's blog age, all the stories are already told) Dave also mentioned that he had met the phantom recumbant cyclist just before me and that he had turned north to Riggins. Oh well, cuz I was going south. Hey, now I got a new mesh bag and some extra Cliff Bars.
Pushing on, I face up to my first 7% grade climb on a windy, shoulderless, hot canyon road. I saw my slug-o-meter drop to a new low of 3.3 mph. Traffic was patient, the dog didnot dessicate and we triumphed at Brundage Summit (5324') in a couple of hours. (I took scalp in the form of a "Brundage Mtn. Ski Resort" roadcap found en route) A welcome downhill brings me into the resort town of McCall, full of trophy houses, ski bums, boat shops (sits on gorgeous Lake Payette) and tourists awandering about. We slide thru town and once again park at a friendly Super8 motel. Before I check in, Brindil is presented with a milkbone. Day off tomorrow!!!!!!
Gary, it was great to meet you at The Haven (your second chocolate shake on Sunday). I hope you did all right in the rain. I'll be following your progress as you pedal and blog your way east.
ReplyDelete-Aaron on the Cannondale
PS We made it to Stanley--what a ride!