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ODE TO THE ECKMANN'S

So... we're riding in search of a cabin. We pull off on a back road, and go to what we 'think' is the right house. David goes up to the door... nope... not the right house. A guy whizzes by us on a scooter, pulls a U-turn and comes back around.

"You guys going to Chicago?"

Yep.

"Follow me."'

This is our introduction to Peter Eckmann, Allison's dad (the girl who worked in Mazama). Peter showed us their 10x11 cabin in the back behind their pickleball court. Peter and Anne lived in the cabin the first year they were married, while Peter dissembled a barn, and rebuilt it into a house. Cool? Yeah. When they moved to the farmhouse they're in now, they brought the little cabin with them.

Ann is a real estate agent in Winthrop. She's full of energy and wants to know everything that's happening, has happened, will happen... and you want to tell her because she's so dang excited about it. Peter is a custom cabinet maker. The town they live in, Winthrop, is one of the premier Nordic Skiing areas in the US, so, although it's only 350 people, it's downtown is set up to handle much more...wooden "gold-mine looking" store fronts with words like "sundrys" and the like. Anne sells real estate to a lot of people from the bay area that like to vacation here, and Peter builds cabinets for them.

Peter invited us into the farmhouse, let us shower and do our laundry, and cooked steaks in the meantime. These people... I tell ya.

We heard a little about his trip to Cuba... the night we came in... we mostly just enjoyed being with Peter (whom Anne calls "Pierre" since she re-learned French a few years ago), Anne, and Allison.

The next day, David tells me, "We've ridden 8 straight days... I think we're due for a break. What do you think about staying here another day?" YES! (I mean, if they're ok with it...). So...we did. I blogged, and David fixed bikes with Peter. Then, we rode into town with their crew, ate lunch and watched a World Cup game. Madeleine, Peter and Anne's oldest daughter, was also with us... went in and ate ice cream in Winthrop... all in all a pretty magical day.

Except... it wasn't over. We came home and they took us up to their friends lake property for a BBQ. I mean seriously, does it ever stop? They all welcomed us like family; we ate some amazing food, talked to some hilarious people (Mike, the guy who owns the property invited us over to HIS house after we were done at the Eckmann's).

I seriously couldn't believe how warm and inviting the Eckmann's were. We were thrown into their laps, and they treated us like family. Anne looked to see where we were headed, gave us a couple phone numbers of friends we could stay with in several of the towns, they gave us pastries and cookies, and sent us on our way. Un.freaking.believable.

We rode a rough day the next day... it was harder to get going. We pulled into Tonasket, where Anne had a friend who was willing to host us. I have to be honest, when I found out he lived 12 miles off our route, up a mountain...I wasn't terribly excited about hiking up there. There was an ice cream shop that opened their yard to campers for $3 a head...and we were eating ice cream. That seemed pretty appealing to me. Anne's friend, George Baumgardner, pulled up in to the store with a giant load of boulders he had to deliver somewhere. He told us he could throw our bikes in the back and drive us up to his house after he was done. OK!

Unreal.

That's pretty much the only way I can think to describe where/how they live. Their house in on the corner of national forest land, on a mountain overlooking the Northern Cascades. George built their house from scratch...it took him two years. You go inside, and it feels like you fell into another world. I want to say 'Hobbitish', but it's not so cutesy...it feels like a rough, outdoor cabin. He made all the furniture. He had a friend do wrought-ironwork for their railing up the steps. The beams in their 'barn' are from an old bridge...they make their own wine, grow their own food, raise their own livestock... Patti bakes bread in an artisan oven out back that someone (George? A friend?) built. It's really pretty much unbelievable. There are pictures that hopefully we can put up soon. The coolest thing to me was that, although they live pretty self-sufficiently, they invite people into their lives to do life with. They shared stories about the people they've had live with them, and someone's son was living in the apartment above the barn because he needed a place to live. They'd had concerts with local artists in their living room. They made homemade pasta, lamb that they raised, greens that they grew, bread Patti baked, with wine George had made (and it was goooooood wine). Their way of living was pretty incredible. We stayed up and talked about bicycle touring, which they have done throughout their lives every couple years with their adopted son. We got lots of tips.

Being at their house up in the mountains ended up working out better than we expected cycling-wise...when we told George and Patti (also avid cyclists) how we planned to just ride back down to Tonasket the next morning and rejoin the maps, they shook their heads. "That takes you over the highest pass in the state... there's lots of traffic, and it's not even really that beautiful a ride. You'd have to ride down the mountain, then turn right back around and climb up it again. We can draw you another map that will take you to Kettle Falls... it goes over a pass, but it's shorter, and the ride is much prettier."

It. was. gorgeous. I really need to upload the pictures so you can see some of what we saw. We rode through Okenagon National forest on a back road...down in a deep cut valley, where the mountains sprang up thousands of feet on either side. It opened up into hidden lakes and springs.
Yes, we still had to climb a pretty high, awful pass, but we got within 15 miles of our final destination...85 miles for the day (so I guess Kettle Falls would've been 100) as the sun was setting. We are camping in campgrounds as little as little as possible to keep the costs down, but that night, it was camp or ride in the dark.

The campground was impossible to find, however. We rode down a gravel road. We road down to a dead-end. Finally, we noticed a tiny road that cut down behind the RR tracks, so it was hidden. Stupid unsigned road. The road opened up on a picturesque campsite on a strip of land between Lake Roosevelt and the Kettle River. Pretty unbelievably cool. The mosquitoes shared the experience with us. Also some incredibly annoying crows(?) that sound like people pretending to be squawky loud birds. And when I say squawky loud birds I mean LOUD. and SQUAWKY. David actually got out to shake his fist at them at 4 in the morning.

So, I've been having really strange dreams recently. In one, David is a drug-addict who's dealing along our bike route. We get chased by a Sudanese guy who wants David's drugs. I throw our tent sticks at him to make him go away, and it turned out that was where David was keeping the drugs (makes sense, right?). David tackled him, and I pedaled away in a fury, crying because I love David and I'm upset he's doing/selling drugs along our bike route. What a relief to wake up and see my husband sleeping, our non-drugged tent pegs, and our gorgeous campsite. But yeah, definitely having some strange dreams the last couple days.

The next day was long and slow. It ended up being about 70 miles, but I was feeling pretty tired. We biked and it felt like a cartoon song of slow people was playing in the background... but we made it through the last pass of the Cascades.

We finally reached our destination in Ione, WA, and spotted a church with it's doors open. The ladies having a bible study inside were enthralled with the idea of us staying there, directed us to a trailer park to take showers, and offered to refrigerate our cooler. What a huuuuge blessing. After our showers, I picked up some cold fried chicken (it's cheaper that way...), a personal pie, and potato salad for dinner. mmm. Dinner of champions. There was fruit too... Organized our belongings, tried to figure what ELSE we could whiddle down, wrote up some memory-verses for on the road, and then went to bed for another night of weird dreams. Growing children via plants and spray?

We woke up thinking we'd ride 90 miles to Sandpoint, Idaho. We had a good, fast, early start. 35 miles into today, we were distracted by a giant herd of buffalo behind this GINORMOUS building. David went inside to use the restroom, and came out saying, "Umm...we're making good time, right? In general? Cause...this is pretty sweet in here, and it's only $5." We are currently in the "Camas Center" on Kilapis Indian Reservation. Rock Climbing, rooms of games, a giant pool/jacuzzi, gyms... I know, probably not what other people would think was worth arresting the other 55 miles of the day, but... I think it is worth it. Harley, a personal trainer/belayer, cycled the TransAmerican route with 3 other guys a summer or so ago, and invited us to BBQ tonight, and sleep in his casa. It's on the route, which means we really only missed about 40 miles of our plan today. Eh... good enough. We'll make it up soon.

I'll tell you about Harley and Wendy tomorrow. They're pretty awesome.