21 Days on a Bicycle

By John Mance

"21 Days on a Bicycle" is the story of John and Karen and their bicycle trip in the summer of 2020. Starting and ending in Spokane, Washington State, their sometime humorous, sometimes difficult, adventures take them through parts of Montana, Idaho, and Washington. The book includes John's cross-country drives to and from Spokane. Video and picture YouTube links show some of the spectacular scenery in the USA. A short, hopefully entertaining read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Dec 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667868011

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21 Days on a Bicycle© 2022 John Mance

Published by BookBaby

All rights reserved. This book or any portion there of may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

First Edition

e-book ISBN: 978-1-66786-801-1

Contents

Dedication

Notes

Prologue

Part One - The Drive to Spokane

Monday, July 20, 2020 – First Day Driving.

Tuesday, July 21 – Second Day Drive.

Wednesday, July 22 - The Last Day Driving to Spokane.

Thursday, July 23 – Pack and Get Ready Day.

Part Two, Part One - The Ride. The Next 10 Days.

Friday, July 24 – Day One. First Day Biking.

Saturday, July 25 – Day Two. The Long Ride.

Sunday, July 26 – Day Three. The Day of Beauty and Panic.

Monday, July 27 – Day 4. On to Whitefish.

Tuesday, July 28 – Day 5. Off to West Glacier.

Wednesday, July 29 - Day 6. Logan Pass and the Fall I.

Thursday, July 30 – Day 7. Off to Polson.

Friday, July 31 – Day 8. Hot Springs and The Ride Through Hell.

Saturday, August 1 – Day 9. Off to Missoula.

Sunday, August 2 - Day 10. Rest Day.

Part Two, Part Two – The Ride. On My Own.

Monday, August 3 - Day 11. Off to Not Sure Where.

Tuesday, August 4 – Day 12. The Really Cool Camp Lincoln.

Wednesday, Aug 5 – Day 13. Flesher Pass and Helena.

Thursday, Aug 6 – Day 14. MacDonald Pass and Deer Lodge.

Friday, August 7 – Day 15. Day of the Wind and Other Fun Problems.

Saturday, Aug 8 - Day 16. Day of More Flats and East Missoula.

Sunday, August 9 – Day 17. Day of the Wallet and Hopper Bob.

Monday, August 10 – Day 18. Saltese, Cherries, and Huckleberry Ice Cream.

Tuesday, August 11 – Day 19. Day of Surprises and the Missing Camp.

Wed, August 12 - Day 20. This Was Supposed to be Easy.

Thursday, Aug 13 - Day 21. Great Day After the Fall II.

Friday, Aug. 14 - Day 22. Coeur d’Alene to Spokane and the Centennial Bike Trail.

Saturday, August 15 – Day of the Hike.

Part Three – The Drive Home

Sunday, August 16 - Missoula to Belle Fourche.

Monday, August 17 - Belle Fourche to Iowa City.

Tuesday, August 18 - Last Day Driving Home.

Mileages –

Epilogue.

Acknowledgements

Dedication

To my wife Karen, who accompanied me for the first nine days bicycling on this trip and, way more than that, has made my life. Because of her I am exactly where I want to be.

Notes

Sorry, this took so long. It’s been two years since I did this trip. The writing part was not so difficult, but the book contains videos, and editing these added much time to the process. Also, I am not a professional writer and have a life outside of writing. Lastly, this is my first book and, being human, there was the learning curve. But here it is now.

This book contains links to YouTube videos and pictures from each day. These links are unlisted so they can be viewed only if given the link. You will not find them on search.

If you’re reading on an electronic device that can deal with YouTube, click on the links to see videos and pictures from that day. Some of the videos are long, and a couple are shaky when I was riding. I was using a Go-Pro 3 with no reduce shaky function. If you get bored or dizzy just fast forward or exit.

Video quality may be variable and may depend on your system and viewing preferences. I used an iPhone version 7 and a Go-Pro 3, so the technology was not the most modern.

I use an iPad to read books which allows for seamless YouTube links. I hear Kindle has an app to read Kindle books on your computer, and the Fire can view YouTube directly with an installed app. How you can view YouTube videos on other devices I’m not sure. Anyway, if you can’t see these things, the story itself is entertaining enough, I hope. Cheers.

I do not have a large advertising budget. In fact, right now, the budget is about $0. Maybe that will change sometime, depending. In the meantime, if you happen to like the book, please tell others. Thanks.

Warning – This book is rated PG-13 for swearing, drugs, and rock-and-roll.

Prologue

I am John; I turned 62 in August 2020. My wife is Karen; her age is unimportant.

Over the years we’ve had the means and time to travel a good bit, like 4 or 5 week-long trips each year. We both had liberal vacation time when I worked, and for the last 12 years I’ve been Mr. Mom, which allowed me unfettered flexibility. Karen had four or five weeks of vacation each year. Sometimes we did family trips with the two kids, and sometimes not.

Of course, when Covid-19 hit, all travel got put on hold. Planned trips were cancelled and there was no point in making new plans. The kids moved back home, and we hunkered down like everyone else. They had been at college dorms but those physically closed mid-March and the schools resorted to Zoom learning. I was doing my normal hiking and biking whenever I wanted so I was not going stir-crazy. Karen actually went into the office frequently, her business was considered essential, and although her gym was shut down, she hiked and biked with me on the weekends, so she was not stir-crazy either. That being said…

By mid-April I started hatching a plan. The opportunity had now presented itself to do something I had only dreamt about so far. It was now or never.

Part One - The Drive to Spokane

Monday, July 20, 2020 – First Day Driving.

I climbed into my Honda Pilot at about 10:15 AM Pittsburgh time. That’s western Pennsylvania, USA, for those geography challenged. It was a spectacular day, sunny, 75 degrees, and I knew there was no nasty weather across the entire country. I was glad for that since I had about 33 hours of driving west ahead. I started the Waze app on my iPhone, plugged it in, and put in the address of the La Quinta Inn by Wyndham in a place called Country Homes, 10 miles north of Spokane, Washington State. After calculating a while the drive time showed up; 32 hours, 50 minutes. I hoped the drives out and back weren’t going to be boring pains in the ass; I wasn’t sure yet.

I was planning to drive to Spokane and from there start a bicycle ride lasting for about three weeks, through parts of Washington, Idaho, and Montana. The first nine days I would be accompanied by Karen. The last 10 or 12 days I would ride by myself since she would have to return to Pittsburgh for work. I had not worked for about 12 years; I had been Mr. Mom and was busy enough. But now the kids were adults, if you could call them that, and I had had a lot of nothing to do for the last year and a half. Truly retired. Not that I was complaining. But it was weird.

And then Covid came along. After getting the kids back home from their colleges in a panic and hunkering down, what else was I going to do? I may as well drive across the country and do a three-week bicycle ride. No time better than the present.

I was not planning to drive to Spokane in one shot of course, but in chunks of like 12, 12, and 9 hours. I would adjust that plan accordingly although I wanted to be at the La Quinta Inn, north of Spokane, by early evening on Wednesday, no matter what.

After about an hour I left the PA Turnpike, Route 76, in eastern Ohio, and split onto Interstate 80, which goes across most of the country. After I got on I 80 Waze said 2187 miles to exit Spokane Valley. I thought, Well, how easy is this going to be? I can stay straight on I 80, all the way to Spokane. Yeah right.

Somewhere just past Indiana, I was on the way up a slight rise and was passing a truck at about 90 MPH. I noticed something weird on the dash, a lot of red. It said Transmission Hot in big red letters with a big red warning line around it. Oh, goody.

Okay, it was 95 degrees outside but shit. Once around the truck I backed off the gas and slowed to 75 MPH. After a minute, the warning went off. At least that. For crying out loud, serious problems, already? Apparently, the Pilot wasn’t even going to make it to Spokane.

I minded that issue the rest of the drive but after 30 miles or so stopped focusing on it, except when going up long hills. I kept it under 85 MPH most of the rest of the way. Once I got further west and started hitting the rolling hills and higher mountains, I would take the vehicle off cruise control when going up. Cruise seemed to be harder on the transmission. I could feather things better using the gas pedal and could feel when the vehicle was laboring. I could get the RPMs to settle at a lower rate on the way up grades, so that’s what I did.

Anyway, I did not have that problem again, at least not on the way out.

I went toward Chicago the regular way using Interstate 80. Once near that city, I stayed on a route shown by Waze which skirted Chicago on the south. This was still Interstate 80 which headed toward Iowa City and Des Moines, Iowa.

Something I learned about driving long distances in the summer. Every time you stop for gas, wipe off the windshield with the stuff they have there. It works great to get the many splattered bugs off which allows you to actually see while you’re driving. If you let that build up, by the end of the trip, you would have only a few small holes to see through. It’s especially hard to see if you’re driving into the sun so, I made a habit of cleaning the windshield every time I filled up. It is a serious safety issue.

For the first hour of the drive, I enjoyed the quiet. Then I turned on the radio and hit the scan button. I was between Cleveland and Columbus Ohio, so I got whatever stations were around. I listened to some music, some talk radio, and thought about how I got to be doing this.

When I was 7 years old my parents bought me my first bicycle. It had one speed and you pedaled forward to go and stepped on either pedal, backward to brake. You weren’t going real fast except maybe downhill, and you weren’t going to pull any steep hills, even standing.

Out of curiosity I looked up when the first 10 speeds came out. The Schwinn Continental was one of the first, and that was in 1960. This was 1963, but I was only 7 years old and too small to reach the pedals of a 10-speed meant for adults.

When I was 9 my parents bought me a new bike. This one had three speeds and a toggle switch on the right handlebar that was connected by a thin cable attached to a little chain that ran through a cylindrical hub on the back wheel. You still stepped down on the back pedal to brake but, for the first time, in low gear I was able to ride up the hill in front of my house without walking the bike. Cool.

When I was 12 my parents bought me a next generation bicycle. This thing did have 10 speeds and if you pedaled backward there was no braking. The pedals would just spin backward. This was a technical necessity to get to 10 speeds or more. Today the gear set will happily spin backwards with no resistance. Some people call it a freewheel because of that. Anyway…

Brakes were now hard rubber clamps on the front and back wheel rims, that you employed by squeezing levers attached to the ends of the handlebar. The levers have changed but this standard braking system, clamping rubber to rim, is used effectively to this day, although they are getting harder to find.

Unfortunately, disc brakes have come into vogue which use fixed discs on both wheels that have some clamping system on them. This system is far more complicated and easier to break. It’s not hard to bang the disc into a branch or something, especially when mountain biking, and once bent they lock up. Once broken they are way more expensive to fix. I’ve used both and I consider the old technology simpler and better.

I believe manufacturers went this direction to jack up the price. Like many things, it’s hard now to get the old, simple, technology for much outdoor equipment, including rim braking systems on bicycles. Sorry, I digress.

I rode that 10-speed more and more miles over the next few years. I lived about 3 miles from a town called Bellevue, where my Presbyterian church was located. I had a few friends from the church so I would ride my bicycle to and from the area. As I aged, sometimes I would bicycle to Bellevue and then take some back roads out of there and ride around, maybe 20 miles or so. This was a lot of fun. I got to see the countryside, get some exercise, enjoy the sunshine; it was all good. By the time I was 15 my buddy Kevin and I would take 30 to 40-mile rides together. My mom would have shit herself if she knew where I rode sometimes, but I knew that I was invincible.

We would ride on any friggin’ road. Route 8, Route 51, Route 28, McKnight Road, Route 19, you name it. These are roads around Pittsburgh, parts of which I would never ride on today. Lots of traffic and not much berm. Now I seek places with more solitude and less traffic, so I put my and sometimes Karen’s bikes on the car rack and drive somewhere less crowded. Anyway…

When I was 16 my parents bought me a next generation bicycle. This was not a racing bike but a touring bike. This had a very small sprocket on the front, with a rear 34-tooth max, 8-spocket gear cassette on the back. I could go up any paved road with 30 pounds of gear.

That summer Kevin and I took our first two-day road trip. We carried camping gear, food, etc. for one night. We rode from our houses in Pittsburgh to Ohiopyle, a State Park about 70 miles away. We used Route 51 south, then got on Route 40, with the notorious 3-mile hill, went up that, and eventually made a left on Route 381 toward Ohiopyle.

It was sunny on the way there but eventually clouded up and rained all night. We had to break a soggy camp in the morning and pack the soaked tent, the partly wet sleeping bag, and other wet stuff onto our bikes, but as we headed back to Pittsburgh it got sunny again. There was a Steeler Game that day so as we approached Pittsburgh, traffic did not get bad. The ride back ended up reasonably pleasant as things warmed up and dried out.

The next summer Kevin and I did another over-nighter. We rode to Cooks Forest, about 80 miles distant, camped overnight, and came back. Once again, we rode on sometimes busy roads, like Route 19, to get out of Pittsburgh. The first twenty miles were in fact partially harrowing but after that, the traffic wasn’t too bad. It really cleared once we were 30 miles out.

Bicycles were not flexible back then. Bumps and rough road transmitted right up the vertical post to the seat and ultimately to your ass. I used to get saddle sore on 40-mile rides, let alone 80. On our overnight rides I would take a large bath towel, and after a while, roll it up, put it on the seat and sit on it. This was truly goofy looking, but my ass hurt, and even then, I was learning not to worry too much about what other people think. The towel helped with the pain, after all.

Eventually I saved up and bought my Shogun bicycle, a hard-core touring bike. After that I needed no towels. The technology had improved by then. Kevin eventually got into racing which I never took to, and we did not do another biking trip together. However, touring bicycling became my thing, and I did many bicycling trips after that with other people.

Besides my church friends, I had other friends closer to home that were backpacking and adventuring at the time. Eventually I would do some hiking and mountaineering with Bob, Rick, Bill, and sometimes Jeff. And I ended up doing four different week-long bike trips, in Oregon, Washington State, and California, with Rick, Bill, and sometimes Jeff. Bob didn’t do the bike trips. He was more into rock climbing and mountaineering.

All the trips were great fun but by the time I was 32 years old, all the boys stopped doing adventure trips. They were all married or getting ready to, and their wives or fiancés were not appreciative of them taking week-long biking, camping, or mountaineering adventures. C’est la vie.

Early in my life I started