Northern Tier Day #54 Sam Owen Campground & State Park, ID to Cusick, WA
Northern Tier Day #54
July 13, 2019 Sam Owen Campground & State Park, ID to Cusick, WA 86 Miles
Ride Time 6:33
Tour Total 4239 Miles
I slept well in my tent in the overflow area at Sam Owen Campground & State Park, adjacent to the Lost Hope Resort. I camped with Team Spokane. Last night, after my twilight dip, I returned to the bar for a few more beers and to complete yesterday’s report. I wanted to smack the noisy drunken revelers but restrained myself. I noticed a fantastic bonfire down on the beach. The State Park was on a peninsula that jut out into Lake Pend Oreille, a huge 1,500 foot deep body of water that the US Navy has been using since World War II for submarine testing.
I had awoken to rain sprinkles this morning at 5:30am. I went to check on my laundry but it was fine. I put my tent in the sun, while packing, and it wasn’t that damp when I rolled it up. It was warm enough that I could start the ride in my cycling shorts and short-sleeve jersey. It was overcast, and I was cycling with Team Spokane with Tim leading the way. Back out on US Highway 200, aka Bike Route 10, I had a 9 foot wide shoulder with plenty of traffic to the left.
Apparently there was an article in Outdoor Magazine a couple years ago about this part of Idaho. As a result there’s been an explosion of people moving here, many from California. There was a large marina in East Hope with sailboats, pleasure craft, and houseboats. Idaho doesn’t have the state organized roadside white cross memorials for crash victims. Here it’s DIY with individually created variations.
I had the lake to my left, train tracks immediately to my right, and large ridges beyond. There was moderate traffic and it was mostly cloudy. I was riding alongside the water with the sunlight piercing through the clouds and hitting the ridges on the far side of the lake. Sandpoint is a ski town and I could make out the trails from 15 miles away.
The roadway coursed up onto a long ramp that snaked out over the lake and then up into a cut in the ridge 100’ above the lake. For a moment I was out over the water and then atop the railroad tracks. There were cars flying by me at 60 miles an hour. The shoulder was littered with gravel and tree bark. I was riding on the white line and encountered jersey barriers as soon as the ramp met the cut. I was now up above the lake riding along the ridge.
Team Spokane was traveling light, and each person only carried two panniers. Jeff was the most minimal, and he slept in a single-person tent. My MSR Hubba Hubba NX 2 tent got to spend the night with two others of it’s kind. Henry was in an REI.
The railroad tracks shot straight across an elbow in the lake on a viaduct, while the road took the long way around. I learned that the Amtrak Empire Builder is notoriously slow and has to give right of way to the freight trains. It averages 50 miles an hour. The shoulder turned to shite, up against a rock cut on a long curve. Motor vehicles were flying by me.
My sunset bath last evening in Lake Pend Oreille was fantastic! I finally used my swimming suit, wading out in my Crocs, with soap in hand. The first round was my bath, and the second was laundry. Bathing and laundry in a mountain stream-fed lake at dusk is level one plus.
My swimsuit and socks didn’t dry on the line last night, and were strapped to my rear bag in my fishnet drying bag. I passed a sign with a moose cut-out for the Idaho Club golf resort. House lots are for sale here. Twenty years from now this place will be clogged with traffic and been stripped of its beauty. The railroad was to my left, and grass pastures were up ahead. I rode by an area of trees being cleared.
I was passed by two large trucks carrying large cubes of hay, and it smelled good. I had a 40" shoulder coming into Sandpoint. The ski slopes came into clear view. A day cyclist shouted to me to have fun and I returned the same salutation to her.
The first town I came to was Kootenai, population 678. 'Welcome to Kootenai where families grow'. I saw a pair of wire strippers laying on the shoulder and was reminded of eastbound cyclist Larry, from Rutland Vermont, who had been collecting tools that he found. I considered stopping and grabbing them for him, but team Spokane was ahead of me. We were planning to have breakfast together in Sandpoint. The next town was Pend Oreille population, 1137.
It was a nice bike path coming into Sandpoint, separated from the four lane divided highway and cutting through the sprawl. Team Spokane waited for me to catch up, and I learned that Linda was a Burger King fan. They all had big plans today. They were practically home, and had family and friends coming to spend time and celebrate their imminent crossing. I got sprayed by a watering system in front of a car dealership. There was a little bit of rain drizzle, but not much.
It was a fantastic meandering asphalt bike trail, that went off and away from the highway, riding along streams and under major overpasses. Lake planes were taking off and landing, and the sound was similar to the sea planes I hear on the East River. The bike path included a sidewalk shed to protect cyclists from possible debris from a bridge overpass above. Transportation design gets no more considerate.
We rode to team Spokane’s friend’s house where they’d all be storing their bikes for the evening. I learned that I’d be missing a beer festival today in Sandpoint. I could still feel the bee sting from yesterday, and applied ointment. Sandpoint is a resort town like White Fish, but a little bit more homegrown. It had a lot of California ex-pats including Mark Fuhrman of OJ Simpson trial fame.
It was 10am, and the farmer's market was busy. Bluegrass music was coming from the band shell. I noticed several bicycle-themed public art features. We rode to Uptown Bagel, which would be my first bagel since Vermont. The line was almost as long as the Bagel Hole in Park Slope. Tim’s wife Priscilla joined us, as did Jeff’s sister-in-law Susan. I had two garlic bagels with locks, a chocolate milk, and an orange juice. Linda asked me to rate their bagels and I gave them an 8. I was generous.
I bid everyone a farewell as I left and continued on. I was now on Northern Tier map section 1. I had started the tour in Maine on map section 11. Anacortes, my final destination, was only 454 miles away.
It was tricky to find the bike path that commenced behind the Sandpoint Courthouse, but once I was on it, it was fantastic! The trail paralleled US Highway 95 going south out of town. I crossed a long viaduct that was the old highway bridge directly adjacent to the new one. It was great having a 50 foot wide deck to share with an occasional cyclist.
After a few miles, the bike trail ended and I was back on the shoulder of US Highway 95. I spotted a fruit stand and pulled over to get some Yakima Valley cherries. Back out on the highway I could see a pulled over pick-up truck towing a trailer. The passenger was running towards me on the shoulder. As I got closer, I realized they were moving furniture and something had blown off the trailer. I would hate to have been hit by that. Strap your stuff down guys!
I was now on a 40" wide asphalt shoulder to the right of newly cut rumble strip. There was a rideable slant, 16 inches down to the gravel. Motorized traffic was traveling at 70 miles an hour, and I was doing 11.9.
US Highway 95 is the only north-south artery through the Idaho Panhandle. It’s one of the only US Routes or Interstate highways to cross from Mexico to Canada. I was eating cherries. The secret of life is to have no fear.
I took a right onto Dufort Road. A freight train passed blowing his whistle. There was no shoulder and fortunately there wasn’t too much traffic, but it was still there. I passed ridges to the left and straight ahead. Pine trees were to the right and a pasture was immediately to my left. Utility poles ran alongside the road on the left.
In New York City we have pigeon guards, and in Idaho they have eagle guards. I’ve noticed three different types on utility poles to prevent nest construction on the top cross beams that support the cables. The first type is a half piece of 4” PVC pipe fastened above the beam. The second type is a straight piece of 2” PVC pipe fastened above the beam. The third type are metal spikes fastened above the beam. Ostensibly there have been problems with eagle’s nests arching the electrical current. I wonder how much the retro-fitting cost. I even passed a few poles without wires sporting an eagle nest building platform on top suggesting ‘build here!’ The train tracks were to my immediate right and the river was beyond that.
I’m due to arrive in Anacortes a week from today. If I get there a day early, or feel like spending an extra day, I’m considering taking a ferry out to one of the islands on Puget Sound. Several people have recommended this to me.
I’ve seen numerous political signs against the Newport Smelter. I passed 2 ‘TURD 2020’ banners and ‘Keep America Shit’. Riding alongside the river I could see the bridge across to Priest River, population 1751, where I planned to stop to get Gatorade and fill my water bottles.
Right before the bridge I met an eastbound couple riding the Northern Tier to Minneapolis. They planned to do the second segment next year. They mentioned that I had four passes before the coast; Sherman 5575’, Wauconda 4310’, Loup Loup 4020’, and Washington 5477’. The construction on Sherman Pass would be on the western downhill side for me, and that I would be able to ride through it.
Priest River was a dead town. I crossed the river and the supermarket and businesses in the central area were closed. I continued up the hill and out of town to an Exxon Station where I bought 2 Gatorades and some sweet and spicy sports mix. Afterwards I rode back down the hill and returned to the other side of the river, noticing the large Stimson Lumber Company operation. It was hard to tell from my map panels but I was once again headed north towards the Canadian border, along the Pend Oreille River.
I entered Old Town, population 184, and went to the Mobile station and got 2 Gatorades. The state boundary between Idaho and Washington state cuts through the towns of Old Town and Newport. I found the Washington State Welcome Sign on US Highway 2 in the middle of the sprawl, and took a photo. It wasn’t a very good photo, and certainly not emblematic of how I pictured Washington State.
Washington was my 15th and final state. I was on my final map section, and it was my final week. Instead of State Highway 22 the route put me on Clark Road on the east side of the river. It had no traffic, and I startled a deer standing in the grass alongside the road. It ran into the woods as soon as it noticed me. I had 4 inches of shoulder as I was headed up a hill. An asshole honked at me, and I flipped him off instantly. I seriously hope he crashes into a telephone pole.
I’m on the Pend Oreille Water Trail. The river was now to my left. Busy State Highway 20 was on the other side of the river, and I mostly had the road to myself. There was a dark cloud blocking the sun and I didn’t think it was going to rain.
Eight miles from my destination I had a barbwire fence to my right with a grass pasture beyond that, and mountains in the distance. To the left were pine trees. The shoulder was 6 inches and crappy. There wasn’t too much traffic, and it was still partly cloudy.
I entered the Kalispell Tribe of Indians Reservation. I noticed a sign warning it was open range and to watch out for livestock on the road. A flatbed truck carrying beehives passed me going north. My bee sting from yesterday still hurt, and I had been putting ointment on it.
There were wooden posts out in the river every 50 feet for several thousand feet. I heard they were put there to catch logs coming down the river from back in the old logging days. I took a left over the long bridge to the town of Usk. A flock of small black birds flew swirls above me as I crossed the long straight bridge.
I went to the Usk Grill and began ordering IPAs from Top Frog Brewery in Newport. I ordered chips and salsa, and later a double cheeseburger with bacon french fries. By 9pm the place was hopping, and featured karaoke.
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