El Diablo Lake
Q: How do you eat an elephant?A: One bite at a time!We woke before dawn in the El Diablo Lake campground. The morning was cool, and early light reflected off the verdigris skin of the lake. A 30 mile uphill climb over Rainy and Washington passes waited for us, and Mary was afeared. We'd camped next to another bicyclist who'd just come the other way over the passes. Mary interrogated him about the slope and the weather with a hint of desperation, searching for answers to ease her fear.
I'd faced my own mountain on my last long bike trip - reached a place where I doubted my strength and wondered how I'd get home if I broke down, unable to move forward or backward. I knew exactly what Mary was going through and my heart ached for her. All I could do was to coach her as best I was able, let her set her pace, call for frequent rests, and encourage her to eat. I could try to offer, as needed, strength and compassion, patience and humor; but the strength Mary needed to climb her mountain could only be drawn from the deep wells of her own soul.
The lake from above
We left the campground at 7:30am and immediately began climbing, stopping for frequent breaks. The day warmed quickly, but the first five miles passed slowly. The road always followed the river, so we learned first hand about temperature inversions. Then, a godsend - a 6 mile downhill. We coasted against the uphill breeze to the 11 mile mark, and broke at a hiking trailhead. There, we met a couple who were preparing to take mountain bikes onto the forest trail. They shared a topographic map that showed our route in more detail than we'd seen.
Mary searches her soul
We resumed climbing at 11 am, with 13 miles remaining to the first pass. If we could keep up even a 3mph ascent, we could make Rainy by 5pm. If nothing else, we could walk 3mph. With no campgrounds between us and the other side, we had to crest both passes, or camp offroad.
From then on the day became a torrid crawl. The temperature climbed with us and shade grew sparse. We walked as often as we rode, pushing our bikes up the steep grade. Despite the harsh conditions, Mary's spirits improved markedly. I think the anticipation had been her undoing, but faced with the necessity of marching onward, she rose to the challenge.
Climbing Mary's Mountain
And so, we crawled toward the top, occasionally dunking our shirts (and my head) in frozen tributary streams that trickled down from the cliffs above us. We reached Rainy Pass before 5pm, as we'd hoped. I was very proud of Mary, but as she pointed out, we still had another 5 miles to Washington Pass. We enjoyed a brief downhill to another trailhead, where we rested and prepared for the final assault.
Rainy Pass, elevation 4,855
The last few miles were steeper than any patch since the Newhalem tunnel. We'd ride, walk, break, ride, walk, break, inching toward Washington Pass. The landscape changed dramatically, as sharp cliffs gave way to lush green mountain meadows. I lost my own steam, and had to stop for a longer break, resting in the tall grass. We'd been 3 hours since our last real meal, and I felt it.
Washington Pass, elevation 5,477
And then, finally, we reached the top. Washington Pass, elevation 5,477. I hugged her as she cried tears of joy, relief, and sublimated anguish. Once done, she was all business, "Let's keep going." Mary's goal for the day was a bed and a shower. It was the mantra that kept her going. We were
going to find a bed and a shower.
Starting down the east face
The east face of Washington Pass was an incredible descent - far sharper than what we'd just climbed - and I was grateful we were going east, and not west. We rolled downhill for an hour and twenty miles (with Mary's cautious hands setting pace on the breaks - alone, I would've plummeted off the mountain at 40mph).
We rolled onto the grounds of the Mazama Countryside Inn at about 6:30. We were so hyperactive from the cumulative stress of the day, that we strode in like gibbering meth fiends, tripping over ourselves to explain our needs to the inn staff. Comfortable beds, a hot tub, a swimming pool, and a cozy restaurant were never so welcome.
And that is how Mary conquered her mountain. Bite by bite, one revolution and one step at a time. And she will carry that with her, every day of her life.
