The Final Lap

Kellen Smetana
This was it: our final state; our last bouts with the wind; our final mountain barrier; our concluding revolutions to the Pacific.  We were ready to write the last chapter of another great story in our lives.  The goal across the continent had always been simple, just ride west until we hit the other ocean.  Early in the trip its grandness seemed at times unfathomable, but by now it had shrunk to a small, attainable, final stage.  Energized legs and clear mind, we checked to see if after three months we were still having fun.  Yes.  Good.  Ride on.

Still having fun? Yes!

Saturday morning, we awoke drowsily after a fun, late night of partying.  Kate, our host in Spokane, happened to host a birthday party for one of her friends the same night we were passing through; so, we were treated to some rousing fun with forty of her friends.  We had a great time sharing travel stories with our new friends.  Alas, Spokane offered no rest for our hungover eyes and weary legs, we were on a mission.  Four days remained of our fourteen day final sprint to the Pacific.  By noon, we were on the road west again, only a bit lighter as Cory had lost his phone on the street sometime on our ride in to the city the previous day.  After a brief, fruitless search for the phone on our previous path, we cut our losses and rode on.

Heading west again

I had read before that few states are as divided into two polar-opposite halves as Washington.  It was evident as soon as we climbed out of Spokane.  The Pacific rains that soak green Seattle and create a temperate rainforest on the Olympic Peninsula are completely shadowed by the steep Cascade Range across the middle of the state.  The east is as dry as the badlands and slopes slow and flat up to the foot of the mountains.  Much of eastern Washington was eroded away in the last ice age from a series of massive floods originating in Montana’s glacial lakes.  Even the Microsofts and Amazons of tech-rich, trading hub Seattle are countered by endless golden wheat farms in the east.  As we rode through this barren landscape, the wind gods descended to provide us one more challenge crossing the state.  We took turns breaking headwind at the front of the peloton, taking strength in the fact that we were able to power through wind strong enough to create mini-cyclones in the fields surrounding us.

Truly open road

Not much out here

Peloton at sunset

It's a twister!

Our stealth camping prowess led us to sports fields for our first two nights out of Spokane.  The first evening, we set up in a baseball dugout, proud of our ability to find shelter and dinner benches in a single location.  The only problem, we discovered while eating, was that the sprinkler system had not been calibrated to water only the field.  While we frantically tried to cover our stuff, the water jet worked its way across the dugout like a laser from a James Bond film, until Cory sacrificed his dinner bowl and dry clothes to cover the source.  It was a hilarious wet mess, but that bought us enough time to devise a shield of trashcans and high-school desks that lasted until morning.

Using ingenuity (and old desks) to build a sprinkler shield

We repeated the episode the next night as we camped on the edge of a set of soccer fields in Wenatchee, Washington.  Wenatchee sits along the Columbia River, marking the stark eastern foot of the Cascade Mountains.  Because of the abundant water source and cool, dry climate, every inch of the thin valley around the city is covered with orchards: peaches, apples, pears, nectarines, and more.  While the city boldly claims itself as the Apple Capital of the World, it seems they grow just about every non-tropical fruit tree.  Even the economics of this are evidenced through the mass of Mexican restaurants and Spanish signs in the city, as many of the workers here come from south of the border.  On the soccer fields, we locked down the rainflies on our tents, preparing for another sprinkler onslaught.  Unfortunately, this only came as we were packing up the next morning, and so we had to take turns manually turning the sprinklers to buy time to pack up the tents.  This morning dance must have alarmed someone with an extremely uninteresting job at one of the local businesses, because soon security came screaming across the fields to let us know the park closed at 10pm.  We politely promised to not camp there again that evening.

Apple Capital of the World

Orchards along the Columbia

Drying our tents on the goal posts

From Wenatchee, we faced our final test of the tour: the Cascades.  A few miles into our climb of Stevens Pass, we refilled water at a gas station.  Normally, most people we meet actually have very little idea about local geography and road distances, and so when we ask about the road we usually just take an average of all input.  (You might be skeptical of this last assertion, but do a quick test: Specifically, how many miles is it to the next city?  And is it uphill or downhill?... Probably kind of tough).  Every once in a while, however, we meet someone like the gas station attendant who told us exact distances, road grade, and the number of sharp turns up and down Stevens Pass.  Any more questions?  No.  In that case, you only need to ask one person.  Full of knowledge, we climbed on.  After a sweaty Labor Day afternoon, we found ourselves atop the 4,061 foot Stevens Pass, our route across the Cascades.  A celebratory beer was in order at the Stevens Pass ski lodge; immediately after, we cruised down the steep western slopes to a park in the town of Gold Bar, our final campsite on the trip.

Back into the mountains

Our final hurdle

Lighting the way down

The next day we rose early, eager for our final 45 miles to Seattle.  As the culmination of a grand adventure for all of us, the day had an air of excitement.  It showed in our rapid cadence on the morning ride.  Following highways of increasing traffic, we were finally tipped off to the Burke-Gilman Bike Trail, which parallels the Sammamish River into the city.  Our first destination on this ultimate day was Golden Gardens Park, a peaceful beach that juts out into Puget Sound and opens to the Pacific.  Convinced by a fellow rider to follow the scenic bike trail route, we passed stately Lake Washington, bustling Lake Union, University of Washington, the Lake Washington Canal, and impressive views of Seattle skyline before opening out to the Sound.  Only one mile to go to Golden Gardens, we jumped in a store to buy our celebratory champagne and asked directions from a couple girls who pointed our way to the park.

So much better than the highway

Welcome to Seattle!

Our first view of the city

One mile later – or 5,015.4 miles from Boston – we finally made it!  On the afternoon of September 2, ninety-three days after leaving Boston, we rolled our bikes up to the shore, popped the champagne, took our celebratory photos, and baptized ourselves in the frigid water – it was cold.  To top it all off, the same girls we asked directions (and who heard we rode from Boston) were so excited that they bought beer and came to find us on the beach to celebrate.  The Pacific rain held out long enough for us to enjoy our moment of triumph and relish the end to sore butts, headwinds, and tired legs.  It was a great day at the beach.

Just a short bike ride from Boston

Let the celebration begin!

We made it!

In spite of the temperature, we had to go for a swim

Thanks for the beer!

After our celebration, we rode our way into Seattle and to my friend Josh’s, who had given us an invitation to crash on his couch indefinitely (bold move).  The next day we celebrated yet again with a big dinner with a few of our friends in the city.  It’s always fun to recount stories from early in the trip – simultaneously diverting beard jokes – and to see old friends, some of whom I hadn’t seen in over five years.

Celebrating with old friends

The next day, Theo flew back to England.  His three week vacation was full of climbing, battling, rolling, and willing up, down, and over mountain to reach the Pacific.  And it was nice to have him touring with us again.  Over the next week, Cory and I visited friends, acted tourists in Seattle, hiked in Olympic National Park, took in a Mariners game, and drank copious amounts of Starbucks (which, I discovered after listening to Moby Dick on audiobook on this trip, takes its name from the first mate in the great American novel).  In that time, a good Samaritan back in Spokane found Cory’s phone on the street and brought it to a store, where we were able to locate it and get it shipped to Seattle – just another example of the good people found everywhere.  At the end of the week, we boxed the bikes, packed one final time, and departed on a flight back home to Detroit.  Our adventure was over.

Heading back across the pond again

Hiking the coast of the Olympic Peninsula

Rainforest in Olympic National Park

Replenishing our sugar

When I dreamed back in Boston of the end of our tour, I envisioned an exhausted crew speeding to a glorious, triumphant finish in Seattle.  Sure, we jumped in the water and celebrated with champagne, but otherwise the final stretch and final day just seemed like another fun day out on the bike.  And I liked it.  We’ve done so much cycling it’s almost become second nature – a part of me, and I know I will be back in the saddle in the future.  For now, though, we’re all in for another very, very long break.

Back home. Time for a long break

It was quite a trip.  I, for one, am amazed how much I learned of the geography, history, zoology, sociology, geology, and economy from exploring what I had previously overconfidently labelled my own backyard.  The US is a grand country, and I enjoyed every minute of the pulse of the environment as we crossed.  The ride was a great test of wits and character that we learned to mold into laughs and more laughs along the way.

Plenty of laughs along the way

The tour is over, but once again, this is not the end of the website!  In the next couple weeks we will post hundreds of photos, GPS tracks, videos, stats, and other materials – oh my!  Plus, we have plenty more to write about our favorite cities and characters along the way.  Stay tuned.

Three years after departing Hong Kong, I can now proudly say I have toured the world on a bicycle.  And it's been one heck of a ride.

One heck of a ride