The Longest Day

Saturday, September 9. Powell Junction, ID, to Kamiah, ID.

After studying the maps last night, and even taking into account the notoriously inaccurate elevation profiles provided on them, we decided to go for Kamiah, since it looked like it was downhill all the way. For once, the profile was mostly right. Today's ride would be along the Lochsa River all the way to Lowell, and then along the Clearwater River until we got to Kamiah.

Spectacular. Awesome. Incredible. Breathtaking. Ultimately, when trying to describe the almost monotonous beauty of the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness, words are inadequate. Mere words, intended to articulate and connote some relative sense of what is being described, simply cannot instill the slack-jawed awe to which visitors succumb when they see the thickly forested ravines, the clear water and rocky riverbeds, and the impossibly arranged rocky outcrops that are situated along US 12 in north-central Idaho. The terrain is unlike anything most people have ever experienced, let alone even seen in pictures. Even photographs fall short, worth only a measly thousand words. A thousand photographs would only begin to convey the spectacle that is this wilderness.

Between Powell Junction and the tiny burg of Lowell, there is nothing but the wilderness and a few trails. Every twist of the road is another beautiful revelation; every turn in the river, a wonder of nature. We pedaled, to be sure, but for the most part it wasn't really necessary. We both, repeatedly, were thankful that we were heading west, and thus downhill, rather than east, and up what amounts to a three-day climb.

Lowell was our first bail-out point, and reaching it in the early afternoon compelled us to go on (after eating lunch there). We had already covered over 65 miles, more than we ride most days; another 30 seemed like a walk in the park. Lowell, which you'd miss if you weren't paying attention, is situated at the point where the Lochsa River meets the Selway River, forming the Middle Fork Clearwater River; it is this meeting of the waters that is Lowell's raison d'etre. Kind of like Manaus, Brazil, where two rivers meet to form the Amazon, only smaller. Much smaller. Like two motels and a convenience store small, such that one of the motels is also the restaurant. On the sign welcoming you to Lowell, the number next to the population, 24, has been x-ed out and a 23 has been painted next to it. It was also curious to note that the elevation marked on the sign was more than 500 feet lower than the elevation noted on our maps; one more gross inconsistency in the profiles.

We reached the bridge into Kooskia (KOOS-key), the point where the Fab Four would have turned on their route towards Florence, OR, maybe a week ago, and formally left the portion of our route that was the same as theirs. From this point on, we were seeing territory they had missed; it was a little like a second, belated goodbye, and the tear in my eye was as much about that as the soreness of over 80 miles on a bicycle seat. Kooskia is the place, like Lowell, where two rivers meet; in this instance the Middle Fork and the South Fork of the Clearwater River meet to form, what else, the Clearwater River. There is no sign anywhere on our maps of the North Fork. It seems to have been misplaced.

Arriving in Kamiah felt like a triumph. We had covered over 96 miles, at an average speed of over 14 mph; it was our longest day (in terms of distance), by more than 18 miles. We both felt fine, if a little sore; and we were tired, fortunately for the only pizza place in town (and fortunately for US, they deliver). Relaxing in the air-conditioned comfort of our room at the Clearwater 12 Motel, munching on some surprisingly good pizza (Nancy had Pesto-Sun Dried Tomato-Garlic with Artichoke Pizza, and I had the Chicken Fajita Pizza) was a satisfying end to a satisfying day. We felt we had successfully set the stage for taking the River Option tomorrow, all the way to Lewiston, perhaps as far as Clarkston, across the state line in Washington. With our bikes safely locked away in the conference room, we slept soundly this night.