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The ghost of some poor pitiful soul has been put back in his place. What a difference a day makes. Though I feel today’s post may be short as the day was comparatively uneventful (well… there were a few nice surprises).

Sleeping at the Bearded Iris was great. The wind blew most of the night, carrying the calls of coyotes out on the prowl. Temperature dropped to the 50’s. I didn’t sleep too long, but I had a solid 3-4 hours where I didn’t wake once. I awoke and mostly finished yesterday’s blog as the sun was rising outside the tent.

After making coffee, we broke down tents and packed up. We’re pretty efficient in this task; Geeto who does not have a lot of camping experience has gotten quite proficient, so we’re never having to wait on a dawdler in the morning.

As we were preparing to leave, the owner of the Bearded Iris RV Park (Mark) pulled in with his son Logan. He’s been remodeling the facility for a few months now, planning to attract some steady clientele. He used to be a member of the Seattle Bike Club (a big organization) so he was excited to know a little more about us. We exchanged some stories about biking, Washington schools, Chicago gang problems, Washington drug problems… Mark told us of his considerations of creating an RV park: 19 different government agencies have permission requirements. We asked to settle up our camping bill before pushing off, but Mark didn’t charge us.

We had a five mile mostly uphill ride to the Bickelton General Store and Cafe for breakfast. Missy was very congenial when she came to our table to take orders, then she went back to the kitchen to cook said orders. 20 minutes later, Missy was smashing solid bags of ice on the floor to refill the ice machine that we had drained (still rehydrating from the day before). Lecy then refilled the ice machine to allow Missy to get back to the kitchen. 10 minutes later Geeto began to express his impatience with the breakfast preparation period. 10 minutes after that he was ready to walk out. Thankfully, the democracy was holding strong as Lecy and I stood firm; then suddenly Lecy’s single French toast was served, while we continued to wait. After 50 minutes the breakfasts slowly trickled out of the kitchen. We managed to persuade Geeto to hold his ground at the table, keeping him from leaving or going back to the kitchen to cook for himself. But in that 50 minutes wait, we met a few locals, told about our journey, and laughingly admonished Geeto for being the most impatient of three impatient people.

Over breakfast, we double checked our route and plans for provisions along the way. Over 80 miles today would be our longest mileage yet, but looking at the elevation map, we were confident of a better day. Interestingly, today the Strava map was the best route, though it didn’t know the terrain for 45% of the route. So our time with locals was fruitful to ensure we steer clear of gravel. The democracy is unanimous on this: we’d rather risk being met from behind by 28 tons of logging truck than face the prospect of one more piece of gravel; gravel is the bane of road biking existence.

Since we didn’t get away from Bickelton until after 10am, we forged ahead for two hours before taking a slushie break in Mabton. Though much of that break was an effortless 2-3 miles downhill where we again exceeded speeds recommended for the curves (though our top speed today was 33 MPH).

Two hours later (nearly 2:00) we stopped in Prosser for more provisions. While the riding was easier, the weather was hotter today, and I was hoping to avoid pomegranate and orange colored urine. We also bought PB and jelly for the first time to have for 3:30 lunch break. It’s seeming there will be more PBJs to come!

After PBJ time, we rode efficiently for two hours to our Kennewick destination. We felt pretty good, certainly better than yesterday, but 80 miles is 80 miles. We completed the day in a little over 5 hours with an average speed of 14.2 mph; we were happy.

After a dip in the very chilly hotel pool (which we sat in for a while hoping for some ice bath effects), we went to the restaurant next door for dinner. After we sat down, we were approached by a strange man who asked if any of us needed a massage. It took a few seconds, then we realized our friend Monte drove 5.5 hours from Bellingham to surprise us! My wife Christen had been keeping this secret, and she updated Monte on my location for him to track us down. We’ve also developed a scheme for Monte to ride all day with us tomorrow. A former Iron Man Kona qualifier, Monte will be a help to us on the road, even if just for a day.

The day seemed muted vs our previous days. We also saw return of some faint forest fire smoke as we continued west, which limits the beauty of the scenery. But the fresher feeling at day’s end, and the surprise from Monte have boosted our spirits as we hit our pillows.

Tomorrow is a short 56 mile day, but we have a lot of hills as we roll into Easter Washington wine country. Strava: Day 7: Clover Island to Walla Walla. We’re ending tomorrow and taking Friday off at Lecy’s sister’s winery (Reali Family Vinyard). Lots to be excited for tomorrow’s shorter day.

Before providing a song for today… I realize I never wrote about Geeto’s poison ivy that he’s been carrying from the start. Apparently he picked it up on his last golf outing; for as bad as this is, he must’ve really loved that ball lost in the deep stuff. He basically had open wounds like I’ve never seen from poison ivy. He’s been treating it with various products a few times a day, and I think it’s finally starting to improve. Kudos to Geeto for gutting it out (warning: the following image has not been doctored by AI).

We did have one mechanical issue today… as we rode into Mabton I heard a mysterious clanging of metal on asphalt under my bike and I saw something fly into a front yard. I though I’d just run over some metal debris: this happens periodically as there’s lot of debris and some distracted momens watching the road. We found out later that I’d lost my rear kickstand. But, something like this won’t even slow us down, we’re gonna ride ‘til the wheels fall off: Wheels Fall Off