TransAm Day #51 Apgar Creek Campground, ID - Grangeville, ID
TransAm Day #51
July 17, 2018
Apgar Creek Campground, ID - Grangeville, ID
59 Miles
Ride Time 4:45 Hours
Tour Total Miles 3670
I slept nicely last night in my tent in the Clearwater National Forest Campground at Apgar Creek alongside the Lochsa River. Eileen was upset this morning about there being no toilet paper in the bathroom. We paid $14 for the campsite.
Fortunately there were no bears last night. I had tied up all of our food in a tree with my extension cord. I was asked what I would have done if a bear had come, and I demonstrated my terrifying bear yell. Another person in the campground responded with their own version, but it didn’t leave Scott and Eileen shaking like mine did.
I used my spork last night for the first time. I ate spaghetti cooked on Eileen’s stove with Ragu sauce. I built a fire to cook the four hotdogs given to us earlier in the day. One of them fell in the coals, but I squirted it down with water and we divided it up. There were three bottles of beer from the previous night plus the one given to Eileen.
It didn’t get too cold last night. My swim suit and towel never dried on the line. There wasn’t much condensation trapped inside my tent fly. The weather conditions keep shifting as I descend in elevation down to 1456’, the lowest point on the route since Missouri.
I beat the others to Lowell, population 23, and had pancakes, eggs, and German sausage at Ryan’s Wilderness Inn Cafe. The television was playing game show reruns from the seventies. We met some friendly gentlemen from Oregon who were fly-fishing and rafting.
The waitress gave me the Wi-Fi password to the hotel next-door. I stood out back and tapped into my blog and social media. I tried to call Charlotte, but couldn’t get through. I slipped on some loose stones and almost smashed my phone. I got fresh scrapes on my right knee.
Heading down the Lochsa valley I hit a fork and it became the Clearwater River, which was much wider with less white water. I stopped for a Gatorade in Syringa, a very small town named after the Idaho state flower. Aside from yesterday’s long soak in the hot springs I haven’t had a bath or shower since Bruce’s place on Saturday. I’ve been wearing the same clothes since I left Missoula on Sunday.
The trees became thinner, and I could see the bald grassy hilltops. The valley became wider as did the river. It was a lot hotter and I once again began seeing cattle ranches. I noticed that people live on the other side of the river, and there are cable cars that run back-and-forth across. It must be a challenge to live over there.
I began spotting yellow cherries growing alongside the road. I stopped for some of the best fruit I’ve had on the tour. I entered the Nez Perce Indian Reservation. There were beaches on both sides of the river, where people were swimming. The Clearwater River joined the Snake River at Kooskia. I believe the second k isn’t pronounced. I bid farewell to highway 12, which I had been on for 132 miles since Lolo. It was one of my favorite roads on the TransAm.
I stopped at a gas station in Kooskia, where it was a hundred degrees outside. I drank two giant ice cold sodas. The three of us took a refreshing dip in the middle Fork of the Clearwater River before tackling the steep climb up ahead. It would be a 1400’ ascent over three miles. Pedaling up the switchbacks, I left the river valleys behind. It was hot and there were no trees or shade. The radiant heat of the asphalt made it even worse. My water was too hot to consume. Scotty was ahead of me, and a man in a pick-up slowed down as he passed me, and shouted, ”I told your buddy that’s the way to get tough!”. It was a seven percent grade, and the most difficult climb since Kentucky. Scott remarked that it was worse than Afton, VA.
Up on top of the plateau there was nothing but rolling golden grass surrounded by mountains, none of which where snowcapped. Coming into Grangeville there were two dog chases. The second canine was a large formidable opponent. Fortunately I was on a downhill and had the speed advantage.
Grangeville boasted the first ginormous grain elevator I’d seen since Colorado. In many ways, this seems like Kansas. We went to Season’s Restaurant for dinner, where I had the ravioli. Eileen got me hooked on huckleberry margaritas. My Brooklyn neighbor Harold sells huckleberry lemonade, and he gets his supply from Idaho. Huckleberries are so good!
Tonight I’m camped in the Lions Club Park in Grangeville.
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