Riding The Trail of the Couer d' Alenes

A young moose crossed the The Trail of the Couer d' Alenes bike path in front of us not far from Harrison, Idaho. After a brief stare down between marveling us and the bemused moose, the animal entered the river on the other side of the trail.

As we rolled into our camp at Harrison, Idaho, after a two-day 100-mile RT bike ride, PK dismounted and said, "Whew. I don't know whether we should be relieved or proud of our achievement."

I didn't know either, but I think it was both. Relief that we were off those torturous bike seats and proud that we'd managed to go the distance. 

Our ride started Tuesday, May 26. Skies were foreboding when I peeked out of the camper at 5 a.m. This was the big day we'd anticipated since we began planning this road trip a couple months earlier and, in a way, five years ago. In 2010 we'd tried the Trail as we were returning from a wedding extravaganza in Montana. It was also our first trip with the Four Wheel Camper.

Then we'd camped at Idaho's Heyburn State Park close to a trail access. We were in a rush to get home, but we managed to do a 20-mile out-and-back ride along the flat rails-to-trails bike path. It was heavenly, and we pledged to return someday. But on this chilly morning we shivered in the cool damp as we hiked uphill to a sweet little coffee and quiche place, The Tin Cup, in Harrison, where we were camped along Lake Coeur d' Alene. Over breakfast, we eavesdropped as the locals discussed the weather. It was going to shower off and on and a thunderstorm wasn't out of the question.

Today's ride was just shy of 50 miles from Harrison to Wallace, Idaho, and once we left Harrison, it would be about 37 miles to the nearest services, or shelter, in Kellogg, Idaho. Did we want to ride in the rain? Or chance a thunderstorm with no where to hide?

Even as we hashed it out, we pumped our tires and stashed snacks and overnight-stay stuff into our bike bags. We were going. What's the worst that could happen? We could get cold and wet?

No. The worst that could happen was we would regret that we'd wimped out and missed an experience and a place we believed to be worth the trouble it was to get here.  

The skies started spitting five miles out, and the dark clouds glowered. The shower was enough to dampen our clothes, if not our spirits. It looked like heavy rain ahead, and we stopped to put on what passes for rain gear in our biking wardrobes. Half an hour later, we ditched the rain gear. Other than an occasional sprinkle, and riding through puddles left behind by the angry clouds that kindly got ahead of us, we remained dry, warm, and mostly happy. I'll get to the "mostly happy" part later. 

  

We'd made the right decision, and we knew it as we glided through bird-filled marshes along a trail decorated by wildflowers. The Trail of the Coeur d' Alenes is a classic rails-to-trails ride - mostly flat, although our ride was slightly uphill the last 12 miles.

The Trail has water on one side or another for much of its 71-mile distance. (We rode just shy of 50, one way.) This is in the chain of lakes region where lakes, rivers, and marshes, and all the wildlife that loves such places, make for f great scenery and abundant wildlife. Very few people, though.

Still. Fifty miles, even on a mostly flat trail, is a long way for people of any age who aren't in great bike shape and neither PK or I are even close to what we were five years ago when we were training for a 65-mile bike event.  One thing that we are, though, is officially old.  I'm finally beginning to admit that things get harder......

As we rode, I took inventory of my infirmities brought into focus by remaining in a bike-riding (unnatural) posture for several hours. All body parts are affected, but one is paramount - the butt! Mine was feeling crushed and pulverized after only  20 miles with  80 miles to go, counting the return trip. Yikes! 

Somehow, when you ride frequently, the nether regions become hardened off.  Or something. You get used to the saddle. I'm broken in now and maybe in a week can jump back on the Specialized. 

PK just outside of Kellogg. Shall we stay or shall we go? 

We could have stayed in Kellogg and cut about 24 RT miles off, but by the time we got there and had lunch, I was revitalized, curious about the town of Wallace, which was being touted as a way better place to spend the night by Kellogg residents we talked with over lunch. And hell, I can do anything for the hour (about 12 miles) it would take to get there. Since I was suffering more than PK, he let me make the call. He was game either way.

Our first stop in Wallace was the Northern Idaho Brewery, City Limits, where we enjoyed congratulatory beers and were entertained by our exuberant wait person, Andrea Leveque, a total ski babe living the life here in the Idaho panhandle. 

Wallace lived up to its reputation as a town with "character," good food and lodging. It claims to be the "center of the universe." But I know people in Ashland, Oregon, who would dispute that.

We stayed at the Ryan Hotel, a vintage boutique place lovingly restored. This is the "lobby", second floor. We loved our suite, pampering ourselves after a day on the trail. If you're passing through Wallace on I-90 and want a classy yet affordable accommodation, give it a try.

PK checking out a Sprinter-type unit  along the bike trail near Kellogg.  I wouldn't be surprised if one of these is in our future.

The South Fork of Coeur d' Alene River not far from Kellogg. It looked healthy enough but locals said it, and all area creeks and rivers, are running at far less than normal flows.

A bit downstream, the Coeur d' Alene picked up volume and one boatload of trout seekers.

That adorable young moose, one more time.

At the end of the day, I had to repack in preparation for the next leg of our journey. Somehow, I managed to bring too much!