Off To The Lake

I wouldn't go so far as to call it a vacation, when what it truly was, was a respite from the heat. Several weeks of 90-105 degree heat has everything, from our lawns to our nerves, quite crispy.

Before we left, I got to enjoy the Washington State Cycling Time Trial Championships, which were being held on the road in front of my RV Park. How convenient! So, at 9am, I set up my lawn chair in a little spot of shade out on the front sidewalk, and proceeded to watch 4 hours of fast cyclists and some of the sweetest time trial bikes you ever wanted to see. Actually, for me, it was more about the bikes than about the racers... but someone's got to ride 'em, heh?

The start line was set up in the bike lane right across the street. They sent riders off at one minute intervals, starting with the Juniors at 9am and ending with the Cat. 1 riders somewhere around 12:45pm. The road they were riding on is a State highway, with a fairly decent shoulder and just a couple of hills. The Juniors raced for 20k and the Cat. 1-4 riders all went 40k, ending at the finish line just a few feet down the road from my chair.

A couple of interesting things that I noted: I saw only a couple of aero bottles. Many of the cyclists wore Camel Back type hydration packs under their jerseys. They had the mouth piece rigged up so it was right in front of their mouth. I thought it was an efficient way to hydrate in a TT situation. (Especially since it was over 100 degrees by the time the last racers took off! Poor guys!) I also gained some amount of satisfaction watching the state's hardcore cyclists assume the aero position. Forgive me for generalizing, but at least in this neck of the woods, roadies are not especially fond of triathletes. I don't quite understand it all, since we are all on two wheels, but the term 'elitist' comes to mind.

With riders going off every minute, it was a flurry of activity. The park across the road was the staging area, with a constant ebb and flow of cars and bikes. At some points, with all the riders warming up on their trainers, it looked like a scene out of the local health spa... just with more of a au' naturel park setting.

Priest Lake, Idaho


The bike race was fun, but it was time to get out of this heat for a while. We had heard that Beaver Creek Campground was nice, so we headed to northern Idaho to check it out.

The campground was situated in a thick grove of ancient cedar trees, and was at least 15 degrees cooler than back home. Once we got parked and situated in our site, I did some exploring and found the main beach for the campground. It was a beautiful sandy beach with a nice swim area. Although, it was quite a hike from our camp site. A little more exploration found a trail nearer to our site down to a different beach... a totally empty beach! Granted, it had pebbles and not sand, but we had the whole place to ourselves!


Each afternoon, during the heat of the day, Urs and I would head down to our private beach, splash around and cool off. The sun had passed over just enough to shade the beach, but leave the water sunny and warm.

It would have been a perfect place to get some open water swimming under my belt. The beaches were located in a large, shallow bay, with minimal boat traffic. But, I had come to play, not work, so we splashed, bobbed and enjoyed.

Whenever we travel in the motor home, I always bring my mountain bike. I use it mostly as a form of transportation, but I'm always on the lookout for a trail waiting to be ridden. As it turns out, my Mountain Biking Idaho book lists The Lakeshore Trail as the authors favorite MB ride in the state. The trail just happens to start at our campground! Sweet! Also starting at the campground, is the equally awesome Navigation Trail.

Now, there is one very important factor to take into consideration when riding these trails. This is bear country! Grizzly bear and black bears. When I asked the campground host if bears had been sighted on the trails, he said he hadn't heard of any. In fact, there hadn't been a bear in the campground for almost a week! Oh great. That didn't have me feeling very confident!

I have a reason for being somewhat apprehensive of meeting a bear face to face... you see, I've got some experience in doing just that. A couple of years ago, while were staying in a campground in Glacier National Park, I was standing on the bank of a small creek, when I hear a rustling of the bushes from the other side and BANG! Suddenly from out of the thicket, directly across the stream from me, comes the front half of a extra large Grizzly bear! It didn't help matters that I had just finished reading the novel Night Of The Grizzlies, a true story about two women who were killed by two different bears on the same night in two totally separate incidents... in that very park! So, I did exactly what you're NOT suppose to do... I ran!

All turned out ok, because as you can tell, I'm still here, but I hope to not have that close of an encounter with Ursus Horribilis ever again.

While I had no desire to meet up with Mr. Bear, or any other creature of the forest that might view me as a mid-day snack, my apprehension wasn't enough to keep me off one of the best trails in Idaho.

Mountain biking was my first love, although I rarely go alone since I have a tendency to get a little crazy on the trail. Some friends took me on a bike ride several years ago on The Route Of The Hiawatha, an all downhill dirt rail trail consisting of numerous tunnels and trestles. That was the beginning. I bought my first road bike to stay in shape for mountain biking. Little did I know that the speed of the road would overtake my love of the dirt.

These trails were awesome! They were smooth, soft and fast! They mainly consisted of gradual ups and downs and lots of sections of extremely fun whoop-dee-doos. There were only occasional hazards such as water bars, plank bridges over boggy areas, roots and rocks. The pictures definitely don't do it justice.

I have to admit, even with my bike decked out in bear bells, (I must have sounded like Santa and his reindeer coming through the forest) since I was alone, I was afraid to get too deep into the woods. Each day I rode 3-4 miles down one of the trails and felt like I had best be turning around for home.

Next time, I'll try to get someone to ride with me. As long as I'm not the slowest rider, I've got no worries!