WINTHROP AREA ROAD BIKING



Just got back from three more days of road riding in Eastern Washington, this time around Winthrop. The above is Big Craggy Peak I believe (please feel free to correct me if I'm mistaken), visible near the end of Falls Creek Road, an 11.5-mile climb I did my first day there. Falls Creek Road gains 2,800 feet and gets you up to about 4,800 feet. Much of the road is paved one-lane forest service road that frankly, is a bit on the roughish chip-seal side. See below:  



But hey, it's the Methow. It's the price you pay for quiet roads through stunning pine forests, not to mention the whole Old West, cowboy-horsey theme. I love it! Falls Creek was the third paved forest climb of the day in a route from my book called Triple Bypass. (Or Master Blaster). First up was Boulder Creek Climb ...

 ... about 7 miles long with 1,500 feet of climbing until at the above point, the road turns to gravel and unless you're on a 'cross bike or mountain bike, you turn around. (My bucket list definitely includes the ride to Conconully.) Not to sound like a broken record but this road too is a bit rough and even sandy in spots. 

No biggie, I ride big fat 25s anyway. Then it was on to Eightmile Road (I think that's what it's called; it's FR 5130) which starts out really steep but ends up being pretty mellow, climbing just 750 in 5 miles.

 

In all, it was a 72-mile day with 6,000-plus feet of climbing. The following day I drove to Tonasket where, along with meeting Jack Black's mother (or step-mother?) Linda, I climbed the 19-mile hill to tiny (one chair lift, one rope tow) Sitzmark Ski Area.  

 

Re: Jack Black's mother (or step-mother?), she works in the Tonasket Visitor Center and was very friendly and chatty and told me to publicize the free bike-camping area that they have behind the visitor center. Restrooms 'n' everything. (Google "Jack Black Tonasket" and you find that he donated $10,000 so the Tonasket High School band could go to Disneyland. Or World.)  Here's Linda:

While I was at the Tonasket VC, I met George (below), who's ridden that very Bike Friday all over the world and who was heading about 14 miles up the hill to his home.  

We headed up the hill together and George told me he owns a bunch of land in Winthrop and that he'd be opening a bike hostel there some time in the fall. Cool. Though the entire hill is 19 miles long, it doesn't start getting steep until about the 5-mile mark, which you can see below where the road slants up to the left.   

The last three miles from tiny Havilah (above, with the white church) to the ski are the steepest part of the climb, gaining about 1,000 feet in 3 miles.

Here's the last mile or so of the climb to Sitzmark. The Okanogan Highlands are stunningly beautiful but also fairly remote-feeling.

At the ski area I just turned around and headed back down to Tonasket. I was feeling pretty beat especially when I realized that in less than 24 hours I'd ridden 113 miles with about 11,000 feet of elevation gain. Thus, the following day I awoke feeling knackered, beat and wiped out. I had had grand plans of riding to Washington Pass but all I could manage was a fairly pedestrian pedal up to Sun Mountain and back. Still though, it was really really purty as everything seems to be in the Methow.

Patterson Lake, calm as glass.

 

Overlooking the Methow Valley.

Another great foray into Eastern Wa. I look forward to my next one!

    







SEPTEMBER ENNUI; ROADS TO NOWHERE

Other than downing a fair amount of Peanut Butter Cup-flavored Breyers Blast ice cream, I've not been doing a whole lot lately. Skipped the Mount Baker Hill Climb, not doing the Bellingham Traverse, might do a 50- or 60-mile leg of Sunday's Chuckanut Century though, for the first time since St. Swithin's Day, the weather looks iffy. So I don't know.  

I'd been planning on picking up my running a bit--I even signed up for next January's Orcas Island 25K--but have been plagued by an annoying calf tweakage issue. I run for two minutes, all is fine and then BAM!--my right calf hurts like heck. Doesn't bother me at all when I bike, but running right now is pretty much out of the question. So, more than likely I'm gonna go eat worms.

Before I do that, however, here's a story I wrote a couple months ago for The Seattle Times. Lots of people told me they liked it so I thought I'd share it here. (On the July day it ran, the story rose to Number 1 on the most e-mailed list. Story it knocked out of the top spot? The one about the guy whose wife cut his you-know-what off and put it in the garbage disposal.)

5 roads to nowhere: the best of Washington's boonies

Outdoors writer Mike McQuaide, fresh from penning a Mountaineers guidebook to Washington cycling routes, offers his five favorite roads to the middle of nowhere — suitable for riding or driving.

At 2,622 feet, Waterville, which is northeast of Wenatchee, boasts the highest elevation of any incorporated city in Washington.

In researching an upcoming guidebook on road cycling routes in Washington, your intrepid author has been all over, sniffing out great places to ride throughout the hidden corners and back roads of this grand Evergreen State. Along the way, he's seen some spectacular sights: the sparkling waters of the Similkameen River cutting through rocky canyons up near Oroville; the bird's-eye views of the Columbia River Valley set against the Cascades from way up high on Badger Mountain; the roly-poly Dr. Seuss-esque hills surrounding charming Waitsburg and Dayton in the southeast corner of the state. And lots more.

I was looking for cycling routes — and strenuous, fairly longish ones at that — but for those who aren't given to pedaling, these make for some terrific drives as well. They're mostly on rural, low-traffic roads smack in the middle of nowhere but pass through small towns and parks that offer plenty of diversions.

Here are five Washington routes to the best kind of nowhere:

Badger Mountain-Waterville
Where: Northeast of Wenatchee.

Admittedly, this is two places. Or rather, this route to Waterville includes a climb of Badger Mountain which, for you cyclists out there, rises 2,750 feet in 8.3 miles. Youch! (Uh, and it's the route's first 8.3 miles; so much for a warm-up.)

But turn around on the way up — or pull over at one of several pullout spots and check out the view — Incroyable! Down in the valley, the mighty Columbia River lazes its way through the rich, fertile Wenatchee Valley while foothill upon foothill and rocky ridgeline upon rocky ridgeline rise ever higher to the majestic Central Cascades.

For you GPS-enabled riders, the climb is mostly 7 percent, with some stretches up to 12. (Did I already say, "Youch!"?) NOTE: This climb is unshaded and the route as a whole can be very hot. Carry two water bottles and avoid riding it in the heat of the day.

A little past the 8-mile mark, the climb levels out and bumps up and down — more up than down — through sagebrushy hills and pine forest, eventually topping out at 4,100 feet, 18 miles from the start. A 2-mile gravel-road descent follows (which might give skinny-tired cyclists pause), delivering one onto the high, dry flatlands of the Waterville Plateau.

Once on the plateau, the miragelike clump of trees and buildings to the north reveals the quaint, nowheresville burg of Waterville, the highest incorporated town in Washington. (Elevation-wise, that is.) The town of about 1,200 is at an elevation of 2,622 feet.

Get there by turning left onto paved P Road Northwest and in 2.5 miles, right onto 2 Road Northwest, which, just ahead, runs into Highway 2, Waterville's main arterial. Founded in 1885, Waterville has long been a hub for the area's wheat commerce and boasts many historic buildings.

Places to eat and stay: Blue Rooster Artisan Bakery and the Waterville Historic Hotel.

Speedy cows roam the outskirts of Oroville.

Tonasket-Oroville loops

Where: Northeast of the Methow Valley.

In Northcentral Washington, the Okanogan River town of Tonasket and the border town of Oroville, on Lake Osoyoos, can be linked together by a couple of fun riding and/or driving loops.

Loop 1: From Tonasket, a cool, funky town of about 1,000, an eastern loop heads up through the high, dry, open forest and farmland of the Okanogan highlands. It's a consistent, but not brutal, 20 miles of climbing, but the sweeping views down into the Okanogan Valley are stunners and make it all worth it. Passing ranchland and dodging tumbleweed after tumbleweed through tiny spots on the map such as Havillah, you feel like you're riding through the set of an old Western movie.

About 20 miles from Tonasket, reach the tiny, one-chairlift Sitzmark Ski Area (Whistler it's not), this loop's literal high point, and begin the fun 17-mile descent back down into the Okanogan Valley and the town of Oroville, just four miles south of the Canadian border. (There's an official border crossing there.) From Oroville, head south back to Tonasket on Highway 7 along the west bank of the Okanogan River (less traffic than on Highway 97 on the river's east bank). Or ...

Loop 2: Follow the western loop on Loomis-Oroville Road, which traces the Similkameen River through a stunning rocky gorge on the edge of the Pasayten Wilderness. This loop passes through tiny burgs such as Nighthawk and Loomis and alongside Palmer Lake, a mouth-gape-causing stunner at the foot of 5,000-foot peaks, and climbs significantly less than the first. Eventually, Loomis-Oroville Road heads east to Highway 7, whereupon you turn right and follow it south for about five miles to Tonasket.

Places to eat and stay: Try the Tonasket Pizza Company in Tonasket or Oroville's Trino's Mexican Restaurant. For lodging: Tonasket's Junction Motel.

During the annual Tour of Walla Walla cycling race, riders begin a big climb just outside Waitsburg.

Waitsburg-Dayton

Where: Southeast corner of the state.

The dry, rolling grassland hills north of Walla Walla are home not only to a couple of picture-postcard Small Town, USA-type places — Waitsburg and Dayton — but also some terrific low-traffic cycling (and driving) roads.

Head south from Waitsburg on Middle or Lower Waitsburg roads (they eventually hook up) and have a blast riding up and down the roller-coaster farm roads 'twixt Waitsburg and Walla Walla. Most of the hills aren't very big and if you wisely dose out your effort, your momentum descending one hill might just carry you up the following one. (Ideally.) Unshaded, these hills and roads offer stunning views of the agricultural wonder that is this corner of Washington.

From historic Dayton, which can lay claim to the fact that Lewis and Clark slept there (that is, in 1806, at what would become the town's eventual location), an out-and-back ride to Bluewood Ski Area scrolls through a dazzling progression of landscapes.

Climbing about 3,400 feet in 22 miles, North Touchet Road (which starts out in town as South Fourth Street) transports one from the dry wheat-field hills characteristic of the Palouse to the dense Inland Northwest pine forest of the Blue Mountains. Climb-wise, it's gradual, with nary a switchback along the way. Turn around at the entrance to Bluewood Ski Area; the return ride is fun and fast.

Link Waitsburg to Dayton (10 miles apart) by riding Highway 12 but detour from the potentially busy highway by throwing in Bowman Hill and Lower Hogeye roads, both on the south side of Highway 12.

Places to eat and stay: In Waitsburg, try the Whoopemup Hollow Café, a Cajun eatery, and Pamela Jane's Vacation Rental.


Winthrop and the Methow Valley were made for bikes, both road and mountain.

Forest Road 51

Where: North of Winthrop.

Renowned for its Old West vibe and for being a mountain-biking destination spot, the Methow Valley is also a great place to pedal the skinny-tire rig. While Highway 20 offers the option of tackling a couple epic climbs — Washington Pass (5,477 feet) in one direction; Loup Loup Pass (4,020 feet) in another — it's the paved Forest Service roads that offer that peaceful, out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere feel.

Chief among these is FR 51, which follows the gurgling Chewuch River north, deep into Okanogan National Forest and its lovely dry conifers. (It's basically an extension of West Chewuch Road, which starts just outside Winthrop.) Traffic is low, the road a little rough in spots, but the river scenery is terrific. Several trailheads and campgrounds along the way allow for pulling over, taking a stroll and soaking it all in.

Turn around at the Andrews Creek Bridge and trailhead, where pavement ends. It's about 23 miles north of Winthrop. The road climbs gradually — about 100 feet per mile — almost the entire way. That's generally not enough to cause one to suffer on the way out, but plenty enough to make one feel invincibly fast on the return ride.

For a change of pace on the return, cross over the Chewuch River Bridge and head back into Winthrop via East Chewuch Road.

Places to eat and stay: Choices in the Winthrop-Mazama area are many. Among them are the Arrowleaf Bistro and the Mazama Country Inn. 

Mossy trees near Tum Tum Mountain.

Chelatchie-Tum Tum Mountain

Where: Northeast Clark County.

There's nowhere and then there's deep in the heart of nowhere. Chelatchie and Tum Tum Mountain qualify for the latter, making their low-traffic roads perfect for meandering exploration. (Not only that, but Chelatchie and Tum Tum are fun to say.)

Chelatchie (say "chu-LATCH-ee"), east of Amboy, north of Yacolt, south of Mount St. Helens, is a census-designated spot on the edge of Gifford Pinchot National Forest.

It's surrounded by terrific rural roadways that pass prairie fields and farmland — as well as through the above-mentioned towns — and the conical mini-mountain, Tum Tum, which looks sorta like a giant Hershey's Kiss. (Legend has it a Native American chief is buried at the summit.)

Forest Road 54 leads (and climbs) past Tum Tum deep into Gifford Pinchot and is a springboard for popular trails in the Siouxon Roadless Area. Though paved, FR 54 can be rough in places (info: www.fs.usda.gov/giffordpinchot). Near tiny Yacolt is the site of the Yacolt Burn, the state's deadliest wildfire, which burned a quarter-million acres and claimed the lives of 38 people in 1902.

To get here, take Exit 21 from Interstate 5 in Woodland. Head east toward Amboy and just let the roads and your inclination guide you.

Places to eat and stay: Chelatchie Prairie General Store has food and there's a Best Western in Battle Ground, the closest big(ish) town. 

Tum Tum Mountain.

THE LARCH THEY ARE A-CHANGIN' AND OTHER METHOW MEANDERINGS

So here's the current state of the alpine larch as of this morning at Washington Pass. Quite beautiful with splashes of gold at the foot of Liberty Bell.

I got in a couple book-research rides over the past couple days near Winthrop. This is near the end of Falls Creek Road, just above Westside Chewuch Road where it becomes Forest Road 51. It's part of a three-forest road-climb route known to locals as the Triple Bypass. The above climbed to just a hair under 5,000 with a couple steep pitches of around 12 percent. As I found out last week at Lion Rock near Ellensburg (see a couple posts below), something great about these paved forest roads is that this time of year, there's no one else on them; you basically have the road to yourself.

Here're a couple riders I met heading out FR 51. I don't remember their names but one is a zoomba instructor, the other a pilates instructor. Nice folks.

Eastside Chewuch Road in the morning. Oh, but I do love da' Methow!

METHOW MOUNTAIN BIKING

The boy Baker and I headed east earlier this week--Winthrop, to be exact. Mountain biking and camping were on the agenda and well ... after that three-hour drive and then pedaling our bikes around for a few hours, then trying to figure out to microwave our dinner at our campsite, we figured one out of two ain't bad. So we stayed at a motel, the Winthrop Inn. (Truth be told, the dad finds camping to be a bit of a hassle 'lest there're others around to help take care of those hassles. Plus, he'd much rather sleep in a bed.)

On the way over we stopped at the Washington Pass Overlook. That's Liberty Bell. I've climbed South Early Winter Spire, the farthest nubbin there on the left, which I never cease to tell people in the hopes that they'll be impressed. (If you've climbed it, you know that you approach it from the other side where it's not nearly so burly.)

Monday afternoon, we mountain biked from the Chickadee Trailhead up by Sun Mountain Lodge where all the rich folks get to stay. We also had the unique opportunity to find out just what you do when the derailleur snaps off the nine-year-old's bike. You ... anyone? ... that's right, you carry the bike yourself and have your son ride yours. (That's Bake riding me K2 Lithium.)

Day two, after dropping Bake's bike at Methow Cycle and Sport, we headed east, up over Loup Loup Pass to Omak because there's a skateboard park there. Kinda. Pretty run down. Pretty depressing. Pretty much wanted to get the heck out of Omak almost as soon as we got there. But hey, it killed a few hours and Loup Loup is definitely something I shall return and ride someday. Perhaps soon. (The Methow's Fall Bike Festival www.mvsta.com/summer/bikefest.html?)

Back at our Methow motel, Bake swam ... ... then we picked up his bike--now with a new derailleur--and headed back up to Chickadee. Pedaled 'round Beaver Pond then climbed to Sun Mountain Lodge from where we enjoyed a screamin' descent back down. The boy's new derailleur worked like a charm.

Back to B'ham this afternoon. A great trip!

PITCHERS 'N' STUFF

Random photos and a video from recent weeks. Above, the Mount Baker Highway on the way to the Mount Baker Ski Area and Artist Point taken a couple weeks ago. (One of the most scenic stretches of the Mount Baker Hill Climb.) It was the week before Scott, John and I rode it. Below, John Clark ridin' Buck Mountain, out Winthrop way.
Below, Bake finishes up Jr. Ski to Sea--that's him in the black shirt and gunny sack hopping to ring the bell. (Teammate Peter has his hand extended for a semi-hi five.) Flowers--arrowleaf balsamroot--along the Buck Mountain trail. Here, John test rides a Kona 29er hardtail. He doesn't seem to like to too much, does he? Post Ski to Sea, Bake makes his PowerAde bottle float in mid-air.
Then lies down, exhausted.