June 27 - With the Greatest of Ease

[Brock]

We sailed up the Lochsa River canyon today as though we were nearly weightless. This is not the rocky mountain pass I was expecting, but as I understand that's yet to come. All in due time, I'm sure; the encouraging thing is that I have already ridden my bicycle up and over the highway 20 pass in Washington state's northern cascades, and the upcoming Lolo Pass is no higher than that, I believe.

After a day in which we ran from cloudbursts and set up our tent in a hurry to beat the oncoming raindrops, the weather dried out considerably and we watched the river sparkle in the evening sun as the rainfall steamed back into the air. Our empty campground was luxurious and we used an entirely different campsite for our dinner as its table and benches had dried from the rain while ours had not. A casual evening of reading closed out a day that had started far more uncertainly.

We stocked up on groceries and met the lady who ran the only store for miles (and the only one we saw today), friendly and recently moved in after a long career in car sales. She had lived in both Federal Way WA and Washougal WA, both places I've resided in the past. She had a cute story about the family car breaking down and getting to fish for steelhead while her husband tended to the repairs.

Outside the store we bumped into the dad from the father/son duo we'd met days earlier, and heard the news that his son was finally getting into the swing of the trip, what with the beautiful scenery and all. We were glad to hear it. Most everyone we've met so far on the trip had taken shelter in a motel during the rainy morning we endured in our tent, so we chalked up several more points in our favor.

Shortly after the grocery stop I heard the unhappy noise of a spoke breaking in two. I've had wheel troubles on tours before, but never had to repair them myself. I've learned a bit from my friend David about wheel truing, and realized this was my chance to put my knowledge to the test. Adele patiently waited with Tolstoy's War & Peace while I deflated my tire, removed the wheel's window dressings and got down to business in the shade.

Spokes are tricky little things, as they are small and seemingly insignificant on their own, but can really thrown off your game if they go awry. My friend Brandon describes the noise of something wobbling about as a sort of "wub-wub-wub-wub" ordeal, and that's what a wheel's rim does when just one of its spokes stops holding the whole thing together in perfect tension. The extra spokes I'd ordered from my local bike shop had been sitting in my pannier waiting for their shining moments, and one labeled "front" took center stage as I carefully wove it back into the hub among its dirtier, less attractive brethren.

I should note that this has always scared me; I figured this process needs the attention of an artist and a scientist, and while I have leanings to both, I assume I am neither.

The new spoke settled in well and bore the tension necessary for a true, even spin of the wheel with very little variance once I had tightened it with the spoke wrench. I watched, amazed, as the technical difficulty I had most feared resolved in front of me. A test ride proved that the grand experiment had worked and I loaded my panniers back onto the cargo racks, afraid the dream would end if I waited too long. We were off.

Pleasant surprises of babbling water, hoary white rapids, an enormous gathering of butterflies, friendly cyclists heading the opposite direction, et cetera met us at every turn from there on out. We soared through the passes with the greatest of ease.

Looking forward to another nice noght of camping tonight to be topped off with another chapter from Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby." My tradition of classic first-person narration fiction continues this year!