When we start rolling on the other side it becomes quickly obvious by the amount of rocks, branches, whole trees and every other imaginable piece of debris that this road has not seen vehicles since at least the last winter. We felt a little like explorers, besides the fact that we were on paved road and in full kit.
The road keeps going up and we come to a few forks and start running into a few campers. We follow a route I built and loaded into my computer and take a turn off the paved road onto a narrow gravel driveway. A few hundred yards later the gravel turns to sand, the kind that grabs your entire wheel and does not allow you to get any forward momentum. “You sure this is the right way, man?” I don’t know… I’m just following the solid line in my computer.
The road slowly points steeper and steeper uphill and turns back into gravel interrupted by an occasional rock garden. At this point we both know that this was not a part of the original route. I mess around with the map and realize that we have been following a road parallel to the actual route we wanted to ride and we are now riding this steep forest road to rejoin the original route. It suddenly occurs to me what happened.
“Sorry man, when I stole this route from somebody’s Strava ride, I think I tried to edit it and it must have moved it”
“Oh?”
“Yea, I need to stop making routes when I’m drunk”
_______
The rock gardens end and we hit pavement that switches back to nice and lush gravel and we finally get a sweeping view of Mt. Adams in all its glacial glory. This is followed by a screaming descent into the town of Trout Lake and the most beautiful sight: a burger joint.
“How many miles left to go?”
“You don’t want to know”
“Oh?”
“105 miles...”
_______
We wrap up and continue. The second climb starts almost immediately. Whether fueled by beer of questionable origin or just finally coming alive, I feel great, but notice that Brandon is starting to sweat a bit. By the time we make it to the top of this climb we exchange hardly any words. We roll along and eventually he comes back to life just in time for us to realize that we hit the halfway mark. As if on cue we pass a sign.
ROAD CLOSED. 7 MILES AHEAD