I heard a generator running somewhere in the campground well after dark, but it didn't keep me from drifting off to a deep, sound sleep. I find that the first few days I tour, it's hard for me to get much sleep...I'm not comfortable, I'm too hot, too cold, "What is that noise?" etc. Pretty soon I get used to that teeny weenie pad, and have that pleasant fatigue that a day of riding brings, and all of that cool, fresh air makes me sleep like a baby, or log, or whatever it is that sleeps REALLY, REALLY well.
I was along the lower half of Kootenay Lake for most of the morning. There is just something wonderful about riding along water. It soothes my soul. I left the campground around 7:30 and I love riding at that time of day. The air is cool, the sun is making a grand entrance, traffic is minimal if it is anything at all, and occasionally you can scare up a deer, or rabbit, or something else that has also gotten up early.
The rollers were very mellow this morning and I hadn't ridden 5 miles when a pickup truck passed me going the other way bearing a Parks Dept. Insignia. It was Ken. "Heeeyyy Cindi!" he yelled. I grinned and waved. He had a couple of bales of pink insulation in the back of his truck and I suspect he is one of those guys who is a Jack of All Trades. Nice guy.
The miles flew by and soon I was at Lower Wenndel Rd. It was a rural farming road, running along an irrigation ditch. And it certainly saved me a climb...until I had to reconnect with Highway 3A in Creston. There may have been as much climbing in "Valley View Drive" as there would have been on Highway 3A. Oh well. Does it really matter? :). Lower Wenndel was a pretty little road...I'd take it again...I might even drink from the creek next time...
I stopped at the visitor center which has taken the place of McDonald's as my blog update provider. They were very nice and I sat outside in the shade and took care of the blog and some correspondence. I will be spending a little time with a dear friend in Spokane before I catch the 2:45 a.m. Train back to Portland. This particular visitor center had an electrical outlet where I was sitting, so I was also charging my phone. A dusty van pulled in next to me and a 20-something hopped out and asked if he could use the other outlet. O.K. By me. The guy pulls out a power strip and people start pouring out of the van. Quicker than you can say General Electric, they had 7 phones plugged in, and then started talking to each other in animated, passionate Spanish. I think. I was lost and they didn't want to talk to me anyway...they had things to say to each other. It was comical. I finally unplugged my stuff and offered the other outlet to them as well.
I was finished at the visitor center but not quite ready to go to my Warm Showers house, so I stopped at a restaurant for a sandwich and a salad. While I was finishing, dark clouds started to fill the sky, there were peals of thunder, and the waitress said, "Oh, looks really dark."
"I hope it REALLY rains" said an older woman who was on her third cup of coffee. That...was my cue. I gathered my stuff together as quickly as I could, and before I could secure the buckles on the Ortliebs, giant drops of rain were hitting the pavement. It smelled that smell of rain on the sidewalk. You know the smell. Fortunately, I had been given excellent directions, and the house where I would be spending the night was only a half mile away. Still...you can get pretty wet in a half mile.
Jan and Zack had planned for me to pitch my tent in their backyard, but with the rain, they invited me to use my sleeping bag in an upstairs bedroom. I was grateful. They are hikers and mountain bikers, seasoned travelers who love the Escalante area of Utah. They are also avid gardeners. Zachary told me the cherry growers are not going to be happy about the rain...it could split the cherries.
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