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WASHINGTON JOURNALS
Photography by Steve Wallstrom
Journals by James Mallory
January 27, 2003- Monday
Well, looks like we'll be heading out finally on Wednesday morning and take a fairly direct route to California despite our previous plans of spending time in Oregon volunteering at Young Life's Wildhorse Canyon. Young Life has done an amazing job of making that place into a youth camp and hopefully we'll have time on the return to check out the progress on that place. I'm sure the biking would be pretty sweet also, but we'll hit that up after the journey south.
These last few weeks we've spent virtually all waking hours preparing for this journey and between calling established sponsors, obtaining new ones and of course outfitting the bikes with all the parts, we ready for some ridin'. I'm ready to head out and am quite sick of spending all my money in the eastside knowing that it could be spent on some beach in Baja or in the highlands of Guatemala. Oh well, were on our way.
-SW
January 30 - Thursday
Our ride begins with classic Seattle weather, 35 degrees and raining. "At least we'll appreciate Baja after this" I naively mention to Steve. Although a bit demoralizing to start this way, we suited up in our new Gore-Tex and headed out. The good-bye's are uneventful as we've been leaving tomorrow for the last two weeks.
For better or worse the rain never turns to snow and we slip over Snoqualmie pass on I-90 unscathed. Night falls and the foolishness of setting out at 4:00 pm becomes quite apparent. We are presented with a choice between cold hands or a cold torso. Unfortunately the KLR doesn't put out enough juice to power an electric vest and heated grips. Steve learned this after killing his battery on I-5 the week before. Figuring that hand dexterity is a somewhat important skill in operating a bike, I opt for the heated grips. It wasn't until the next day that I realized the grips had been switched to low heat. This proved to be a disappointing oversight.
Ice climbers call it 'screaming barfies'. An unpleasant but fitting description of what can happen when your hands reach a critical low temperature. You scream in pain and are sick with a dizzying nausea at the same time. Not that big of a deal when you're stuck to a frozen waterfall, but downright frightening when you're doing 70 on the highway.
Hmmmm, I seem to be having trouble keeping my bike between the lines. Wow, I think to my self, another 30 seconds of this and I'm gonna lose the ability to keep the bike upright. Well, the bike is insured... Better judgment prevailed and an exit appeared with a warm Saloon beckoning ahead. Pale faced and to nauseated to shiver we stumbled through the door. "You guys out snowmobiling?" a local inquired. "No, actually we're on motorcycles, but right now I'd take a snowmobile." They all laughed with that 'wow, we'd feel sorry for you, but you're obviously complete idiot's for riding in this weather'. At least there was a fireplace.
Hot cocoa in our bellies and as warm as we'd get, we headed out to our trusty steeds. "Hey Jim, your headlight and brake light aren't working." Great. Remove panniers, dry bags, side panels, seat and replace blown fuse. Problem fixed. Hmm, bike doesn't start. Dead battery. Good Lord, mechanical problems are supposed to happen when it's warm and sunny, certainly not here. Crouching between the two bikes in a snow filled puddle, I connect jumper cables to each bike and realize that if I do get electrocuted at least it will warm me up.
After a couple more stops and warming sessions we finally arrive in Ellensburg. Soaked and tired our thoughts drift fondly towards California.
-JM |
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