Cle Elum to Beverly Dunes

May 14 - 64 miles - 6.5 hours of seat time

Thursday started with a very early drive to Cle Elum. I wanted to get on the trail by 9:00 AM to give me the best chance to make the planned distance to Beverly, WA. The route didn't have anything like Snoqualmie bass on it, but it did drop into the Columbia river basin.

The trail surface between Cle Elum and Ellensburg is mostly compacted sand and dirt with the occasional section of looser gravel, but nothing the new rear tire can't handle. You might assume based on driving I-90 that there would be an ascent near Indian John Hill or Elk Heights, but the rail trail maintains its pathway next to the Yakima river as you pass through Thorp.

Looking Northwest over the Yakima river.

The route takes you by Central Washington University, which in turn increases the likelihood of running across another person you just know you'd have interesting conversations with.

It's not exactly like painting an octopus on the entire side of your house....but still. I'm picking up what you are putting down.

To this point, the trail had maintained a certain amount of firmness, and frankly I was in high spirits and looking forward to the rest of the day. That would not last.

This is torture.

I didn't really try to compose the picture above. I just wanted to document what I was experiencing, which was frustration. It looks nice enough. It looks flat and relatively smooth, and that is because what it is......is SAND.

In places it is compact and firm enough that it's not that hard to ride on. Usually that firm place is right in the middle of what you might perceive as the tire tracks in the picture above. A pair of lighter tracks in the middle of the sandy path.

Unfortunately, that compact strip of trail is perhaps 6" wide and it wanders around a lot within those light tire strips. If you fall off it, or if you make the misguided decision to try the OTHER tire track to see if it is firmer, you will get sucked into a quagmire that suddenly increases the required effort to maintain 8-10 miles per hour.

You will fall off the compact stuff once every couple of minutes. It's exhausting. Not as exhausting as climbing up Snoqualmie Pass, but exhausting none the less.

These rocks are potentially lethal.

The trail would eventually begin its decent into the Columbia River basin, and here is where the trail really started to disappoint. It's fair to think that riding down hill would be fun; the reward you get for having climbed over another hill. But no, when you fall off the edge of the compacted sand going down hill, your front tire washes out a little bit and your butt cheeks clinch hard enough that you wonder if your saddle is now a permanent part of your anatomy. When it's not the sandy stuff, it's these little cut outs in rocky hills where the rocks are just waiting for you to ride by so they can throw themselves into the middle of the road, and/or shatter into a bunch of jagged rocks so imposing that you feel you must get off the bike and walk. At the very least, you are going to pop another tire if you ride over one of these murder rocks. But if you came to a sudden stop and fell, you have no idea what you will hurt/break, but you DO know that hurting/breaking something would be unavoidable.

So I get off the bike and walk through one of these little valleys of death rocks. Then Marshal says 'Hello!' and I have a small heart attack. Mostly it's just the surprise of hearing a voice other than my own as I walk along contemplating whether the sharp pointy rocks want to break my radius, ulna, or humerus.

Marshal apologizes and he and Amy introduce themselves as I foolishly succumb to peer pressure and remount my bike to ride through the valleys of the shadows of death rocks. Have I mentioned how intimidating and tooth like these rocks are?

Over the course of several miles and conversation snippets, it becomes clear that Marshal and Amy are riding to Chicago. It's also clear that their bikes have 45mm wide tires.....and those tires are better than my tires. I've only had my new tire for a day and I already think it sucks. At least in comparison.

Twisted columns of Basalt? More research necessary.

There's a saying that shared joy is amplified and shared misery is diminished. Riding with Marshal and Amy helped me push past my tired legs. I told them Bunny and Poodle were somewhere in the Beverly Dunes and if they found the van, we'd give them a beer.

Wanapum Dam

Crossing the Columbia brought relief in the form of pavement. The final couple of miles into Beverly Dunes were asphalt. Around the campfire we discussed route finding and Marshal and Amy both agreed that the point wasn't to stay on the GART, but to enjoy the ride as much as possible. This would mean choosing pavement/asphalt when it was safe, and choosing rail trail when roads weren't safe.

We decided we were all going to ride as much asphalt as possible on the next day.

Now here it is, your Moment of Van. Beverly Dunes