It was a challenge to leave the comforts of the dorm and hit the road again.
But today, we would complete our first state, moving across the state lines between Washington and Idaho. Time to get a move on.
After a quick trip to Starbucks, and breakfast at the Cog (Student Center), we loaded up the truck and grabbed our cue sheets. Everyone peeled out in short order.
After a few miles of twists and turns, the route led us to Hwy 2. I started this segment on my own, and ended up riding most of the day by myself. The morning air was cool, and the sky nearly cloudless. The route wound through Chatteroy and Riverside, eventually leading me to Newport, and just in time for their annual Rodeo Parade! The sidewalks on Main Street were filled with families, jockeying for the best viewing places. Of course the early birds had brought folding chairs and were proud of their positions in the rare shady spots.
I locked up my bike and clicked (wearing my bike shoes) down the street to survey my options. I chanced upon a kitchenware store that also offered fresh brewed coffee (in a press pot no less) and homemade cinnamon rolls. Can't beat that. I bought one of each and sat for a spell, talking with the baker/coffee maker proprietor. As soon as I heard the sound of police car sirens, I knew that the parade would be starting and I took off to finagle a spot. Sure enough, here came the police cars, following by rodeo royalty on horses, prominent local business people and politicians, more horses, the inevitable clean-up crew, a local cub scout pack, large people on/in small cars, a tropical- themed float, and several fire trucks of various vintages. At that point, I felt confident that I had sufficient parade memories and decided to move on.
The route took me over gently undulating hills, along forested hillsides. The hot air brought out the smell of the pines and scrubby plants. Heat radiated from the pavement. I passed a remote street sign: Lotawater Lane. And as the miles accummulated, so did the heat in my feet. Slowly at first, and eventually a full-out burning sensation across the widest part of each foot. It felt as though I was standing on a red-hot metal grate. Flames licked my toes. The wind fanned the blaze. Ouch! As I approached the final couple of miles into Sandpoint, I spied a young boy washing a car. Ah-ha! I rode over to his side and asked him if he could do me a big favor: spray my feet. Shoes, socks and all. He was as happy to oblige as I was to receive. What a relief! In my new-found state of civility, I bought a raspberry soda from his mom - who was operating a nearby espresso/italian soda stand. I cruised down the final miles with soaking shoes and a cup of ice in my hand. The effects of the heat were retreating.
We would be camping for the night at Sandpoint High School. After designating a spot under the pines, next to Barb, the two of us went into town to find something to eat. We found the highly-recommended 2nd Avenue Pizza restaurant just as it was opening for the afternoon/evening. A small pie and a cold beer revived us.
It was then time to return to our site for the night, check in with other Riders about their experiences, set up camp, eat dinner and prepare for another hot day. The heat had taken its toll: camp settled down by dusk.
But today, we would complete our first state, moving across the state lines between Washington and Idaho. Time to get a move on.
After a quick trip to Starbucks, and breakfast at the Cog (Student Center), we loaded up the truck and grabbed our cue sheets. Everyone peeled out in short order.
After a few miles of twists and turns, the route led us to Hwy 2. I started this segment on my own, and ended up riding most of the day by myself. The morning air was cool, and the sky nearly cloudless. The route wound through Chatteroy and Riverside, eventually leading me to Newport, and just in time for their annual Rodeo Parade! The sidewalks on Main Street were filled with families, jockeying for the best viewing places. Of course the early birds had brought folding chairs and were proud of their positions in the rare shady spots.
I locked up my bike and clicked (wearing my bike shoes) down the street to survey my options. I chanced upon a kitchenware store that also offered fresh brewed coffee (in a press pot no less) and homemade cinnamon rolls. Can't beat that. I bought one of each and sat for a spell, talking with the baker/coffee maker proprietor. As soon as I heard the sound of police car sirens, I knew that the parade would be starting and I took off to finagle a spot. Sure enough, here came the police cars, following by rodeo royalty on horses, prominent local business people and politicians, more horses, the inevitable clean-up crew, a local cub scout pack, large people on/in small cars, a tropical- themed float, and several fire trucks of various vintages. At that point, I felt confident that I had sufficient parade memories and decided to move on.
The route took me over gently undulating hills, along forested hillsides. The hot air brought out the smell of the pines and scrubby plants. Heat radiated from the pavement. I passed a remote street sign: Lotawater Lane. And as the miles accummulated, so did the heat in my feet. Slowly at first, and eventually a full-out burning sensation across the widest part of each foot. It felt as though I was standing on a red-hot metal grate. Flames licked my toes. The wind fanned the blaze. Ouch! As I approached the final couple of miles into Sandpoint, I spied a young boy washing a car. Ah-ha! I rode over to his side and asked him if he could do me a big favor: spray my feet. Shoes, socks and all. He was as happy to oblige as I was to receive. What a relief! In my new-found state of civility, I bought a raspberry soda from his mom - who was operating a nearby espresso/italian soda stand. I cruised down the final miles with soaking shoes and a cup of ice in my hand. The effects of the heat were retreating.
We would be camping for the night at Sandpoint High School. After designating a spot under the pines, next to Barb, the two of us went into town to find something to eat. We found the highly-recommended 2nd Avenue Pizza restaurant just as it was opening for the afternoon/evening. A small pie and a cold beer revived us.
It was then time to return to our site for the night, check in with other Riders about their experiences, set up camp, eat dinner and prepare for another hot day. The heat had taken its toll: camp settled down by dusk.
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