Day 7, 8, 9, 10 110 miles and a 5,575 ft pass

We did it! We conquered Sherman Pass. The last three days have been a whirling of miles, small towns and cute resting spots. In Tonasket, the vistor center offers a patch of grass behind it for bikers headed through. We spent the evening visiting their local co-op treating ourselves to a bottle of their local hard blueberry cider shared over a radio-story from This American Life. We camped right across from a yoga studio, but being Sunday it was closed. Monday started right off the bat with a tough climb up the Wauconda Pass (4310′), preparing ourselves and my knee for next day to come. We peaked and descended and were surprised when the trail told us to hang a left onto a paved bicycle path that took us high above state road 20. It weaved in and out and around the mountain side. It was a nice enclosed ride closing out our day. That evening we set up camp outside Republic at their fair grounds. Free Ranged goats came up to us and sniffed at our gear. I had just resupplied and had a kale/spinach bag that i let them nibble at. They reminded me of my days spent with the goats at the Brevard Zoo’s Petting Zone. We also reunited with Dan and Lise and their tribe who are cycling for victims of strokes. They are pulling a travel trailer and our biking each day while a support crew brings the trailer to meet them along the way and at night. They are headed East as well but will finish in Boston. They are looking for a driver to help with the trailer over the next two months, so if you or you know of someone wanting to help check out Spokesfightingstrokes.org. We went to bed early and and parted with our new friends early the next morning to fight the 15 mile climb to our highest point on the Northern Tier, Sherman Pass. My knee ached the entire way and I had taken my recommended dose of Advil for the whole day by 11am. Two hours later we reached the top, took a break and clipped in for the final 20 mile steep descent. As long as I can just glide and not have to use my knee, I can get off the mountain. The wind had started wipping up, and the temp dropped, so we put on all our layers for the downhill. Face covered with a buff, the thrilling downhill had finally brought joy and pain relief. I had finally perfected my downhill and the fear was now replaced with joyful speed. We stopped 12 miles down at a spot where the CCC had built an American Camp during the Great Depression. A small pebbled creek runs along side a small meadow of wildflowers. The only building that remains is a small bath house and historical signs describing the area.   With the sun shining down on the creek we took a long break, ate a snack and  I soaked my knee. The pain was immediately gone as I rested it in the water. Had it not been in the low 60’s I would have gone for a full body submersion, but the air was too cold. As the clouds moved in, we left that special spot and completed the downhill across the Columbia River and into Kettle Falls campground. The east side of Sherman Pass was by far the prettiest part of the trip thus far. It followed a creek the whole way up with lots of waterfalls and dammed ponds.