Day 9: Loup Loup

For friendly poopers

This pair of co-crappers spotted at BJ's Branding Iron Cafe in Twisp.

Traveling with Mary, I was content to get as far as we got. If we hadn't made it all the way, so be it - we would've figured out how to get home from wherever we stopped. Now that I'm alone, I'm determined to reach Virginia and all stops are out. Today I cranked out 62 miles from Twisp to Tonasket, about 9 hours en route. I had a late start after breakfast with Mary and Katja, and so didn't reach Tonasket until evening. By then, my ass felt like two hot, sharp rocks were strapped to it.

Loup Loup Pass, Elevation 4020

The first goal was to climb Loup Loup Pass. Loup Loup wasn't as steep as portions of Rainy and Washington, but it was a continuous grade without breaks that felt like a long slog. I was surprised though, when I reached the top - it was only 15 miles from where we'd camped. After the spectacular views from Rainy/Washington, the scenery going up Loup Loup was unremarkable - unbroken trees without variety, like eating a sparrow after a diet of peacock.

Once through the pass, it's a different story, as I glide down into the expansive Okanogan Valley, its endless long rolling hills receding into the distance. The Okanogan River feeds the fertile valley center, a meandering strip of luscious green fringed by desert colors.

The Proud, Mighty Cock

The town of Okanogan, which is not as pretty as the valley after which it is named, appears to be the bedroom community of nearby Omac, a chain of big box strip malls about which, the less said, the less I will sound like an asshole.

Riverside on the other hand, appears to a picturesque farming village, the sort of quaintly perfect Norman Rockwell setting that appears in the opening scenes of Steven Spielberg movies and Stephen King novels. It's just a pity that you have to drive through Omac to get there.

Next along the string of towns is Tonasket, which appears to be bigger than Riverside, with all the amenities still locally owned, and very few franchises in sight. It looks like the big business here is an apple processing plant. Tucked away behind the plant, on the river, is an enormous public rec area, with ball fields, a skate park, a river walk. All in all, a nice place to raise kids.

Seen in Tonasket. Posted without comment.

There appears to be a campground here in town, but I'm dying for a shower, so I settle for a crappy motel. I remember when crappy motels cost $25 - $35 / night, and nowadays they seem to go for $65 - $75 / night, so I'm pleased when this one only costs $53. Shortly after I settle in, there's a knock on the door. I've just washed my clothes, so I answer the door in a towel, opening it just a crack. Outside is a pale, thin woman with a sheen of sweat on her face. She asks for Rickie, and when I haven't heard of him, she mumbles about having the wrong room. Apparently I've been given the local meth dealer's usual room.

Day 7-9: Mary No More

The road out of Twisp

From a purely dramatic viewpoint, Mary chose an excellent day to break down. We set out from Twisp accompanied by darkening clouds and rising humidity, along the road to Loup Loup Pass. We rode slowly, our stiff legs reminding us that we hadn't stretched. Mary rode behind, and I saw that she was lagging more than usual. About 8 miles down the road, she stopped. She may have had her face in her hands. I set my bike off the road and walked back to her. Mary was crying. I took her bike and lead her off the road to a safe patch of grass. She paced for a bit, avoiding my eyes. Then she came to me and looked directly in my eyes and said, "Ivan, I don't think I can do this."

Up until now I'd considered it my duty to encourage Mary. My job now was to get her to safety, where we could rest and consider our options. We turned back to Twisp as the dark clouds continued to gather. We found an internet cafe, and I contacted friends to see if a ride home could be arranged, while Mary blogged about the morning. At this point we had no fixed plan of action, but I felt that Mary needed choices. Soon the storm broke, shattering the sky with thunder and lightning, and conveniently washing away all the day's tension with a cathartic and highly symbolic torrent.

The storm passes on

By the time the storm passed, we had arranged several pickup options (thank you, Katja, Mike, Larry, Marco), and discussed our next steps. Mary's spirits perked up. We decided to sleep on it, and arranged for a potential pickup the following night. I'd been keeping my own shit together for Mary, but I cried when we got the confirmation. Mary hugged me and we sniffled together in the internet cafe.

All the while, the thing that kept going through my head was Jack Black in High Fidelity, trying to arrange a rock dirge after John Cusack's girlfriend's father dies. "The night Laura's dad died, brother what a night it really was, brother what a night... angina's tough!"

At the end of the day

We kicked around various compromises to see how we could make the trip easier on Mary. The heat, the duration, the pace - all were too much for Mary. About a week was enough for her, and preferably in cooler weather. We talked about taking some shorter trips in Autumn.

Though we planned this trip together, it is a singular vision of mine, something I've long dreamed of. For Mary, it's "something big" to fill a void in her life that she has yet to name. Neither of us wanted me to quit. I'm independent and Mary is supportive, and those are (among) the qualities we love in each other. Mary was already busy planning ways to help me from home, and even visit me along the road.

Mary second guessed herself, but I think we both knew the right decision. Though I dearly wanted Mary to continue, I could not deny that while my vitality had grown on the road, hers had faded. And so we took two days of R&R in the rivers and internet cafes of Twisp, enjoying the heightened intimacy of mild tragedy.

Mothers, please read ahead. Others, you may click and drag across the box if you wish to read a naughty aside regarding intimacy.

Incidentally to those at home: after days of non-stop exercise, the orgasms are mind-blowing. Just sayin'.

We divided up all the gear on Thursday afternoon, which felt like dividing the CD collection during a breakup. Katja arrived on Thursday evening. She spent the night camping with us, and we all three enjoyed wine and fruit by a fire beneath the stars. In the morning, we had a final breakfast in Twisp. Before we separated, Mary announced her plan to catch up with me by car at Missoula, MT.

We may spend the summer apart, but we will still work together. To steal from "I'm Gonna Get You Sucka": every hero needs a theme song; and Mary is mine. (Cue: "Wind Beneath My Wings")