Covid Cross Day #41 Lochsa Lodge, ID to Apgar Creek Campground, ID

Covid Cross Day #41
July 15, 2020
Lochsa Lodge, ID to Apgar Creek Campground, ID 58 Miles
Start 10:11 AM Finish 5:21 PM
Ride Time 4:25
Ascent 376 Feet
Descent 2138 Feet
Tour Total Miles 3392

I shouldn’t have let the server last night talk me into taking a roadie back to my tent. She poured me a 16 ounce jar of Cold Smoke and covered it with saran wrap. It was cold outside, which meant that I had no other choice but to return to my tent. I had the munchies so I retrieved a bag of trail mix from my rear pannier. Long story short, I fell asleep with a three-quarter full jar of beer beside me. In the middle of the night I woke up to a big mess and set the jar outside my tent. I was exhausted, and rolled over and went back to sleep. 

I woke up with the sun and the birds and my tent smelled like a brewery. I got paper towels from the bathroom and begin the long cleanup. The other four cyclists were packing up their equipment with more diligence and gusto than me. We all went over to the lodge together for breakfast. Al, Rusty, and Todd were from Bend Oregon. Their friend Bob was from California. I told them that I had been to Bend and liked it, and they told me not to tell anyone. Coincidentally they knew Lauren and Jesse, whom had let Scott, Eileen, Klaus, and I camp in their backyard two years ago. Team Bend thought it was amusing that a guy from Brooklyn would be enamored with the emptiness of North Dakota. I had eggs over-easy, bacon, a thick piece of buttered toast, two cups of coffee, and a large orange juice. After the guys left, I sat on a couch and finished yesterday's report, and wrote a few postcards. The nice lodge had wood panelling and beautifully carved wooden details. A bear skin was hanging on one wall and animal trophies were displayed on others.

I had left my Thermarest on a picnic table and my tent sitting sideways in the grass. Things were relatively dry by the time I returned. My 10 AM start was one of the latest yet on this tour. Thank goodness for Mountain Time. I rode out of Lochsa Lodge and headed west down US Highway 12. I missed being off-road but there wasn’t enough time to do the second section of the Lolo Trail Option if I wanted to get to Clarkston by Friday. By the same token, I would be ahead of schedule if I cycled along the highway at the pace I'd been going. It was time to slow down and savor this beautiful special area. The highway was a smooth steady downhill, and it really didn’t get any easier. It had warmed up by the time I left, and I was wearing my jersey and shorts. The air was cool and the sun was hot on my back.

The Lochsa River Vally was one of my favorite places in the world, and I was happy to be back here. It was really astounding! I came to Whitehouse Pond where Lewis and Clark had slept on September 15, 1905. I was annoyed having to once again share the road with motor traffic. That’s said, three cars in a row gave me the tap tap with thumbs up out the window. In addition to ease, the benefit of this route over the Lolo Trail Option was the proximity to the river. I was right next to it with a rock cut to my right. I had a two foot shoulder and a scary ditch between me and the cut. The traffic wasn’t too bad. I had a brisk headwind, which added a small challenge. I passed a guy sitting in a lawn chair next to the river while reading a book.

I came to a US Forest Service campground that had been closed because of COVID. The closer I got to the west coast the more I was starting to see the signs of COVID that I had witnessed back east. There were once again mask restrictions, and services were closed. I stopped at Colgate Licks which was named after George Colgate who had been the cook for a hunting party in the early 1890's. Heavy snows had trapped the group and prevented them from reaching the Lolo Trail on foot. Insistent on reaching their goal the party build a raft to float down the river. The raft broke apart in the river's raging waters. Colgate became ill and was left behind. His remains were later found and were buried here at this site.

The shoulder got smaller forcing me to ride on the white line. The road was curvy and a double yellow line was painted down the center, making it tricky for motor traffic to pass. There were slow vehicle turn outs for motorists. If a slow moving vehicle had more than three vehicles behind it, they were supposed to turn off and let the others pass. A semi-truck was unable to pass me, so I pulled over. I didn’t need one of the specially designed turn out areas. I came to a section of road that was right up against the river with a sharp drop down to the water. Thank goodness I was on the cut side. I passed the Mocus Point Trailhead, where I saw people heading to the river with fishing rods. I admired the handsome suspension bridge walkway across the river.

I had planned a stop at the hot springs at Weir Creek Trail, mile marker 142. I had come here two years ago with Scott & Eileen. There were cars in the parking lot and, because of COVID, the bathroom was closed. I met a guy who had come from the Rainbow Gathering. I had forgotten that people camped here. It was a great spot! I walked up the trail to the springs. The big pool was much hotter than two years ago. It was a sunny day and the heat was too much for me. I went down to the creek level pool which had a much nicer temperature. There were brown flaps of organic material that dissolved into tiny flakes when touched. Once the water settled, the flakes would fall back down to the brown mat at the bottom of the pool. 

A tent and netted enclosure was set up on the other side of the creek. There was a dude inside the net. I felt uncomfortable being nude so I put on my bathing suit. Other than the dude across the creek, I had the hot springs to myself. I ate an apple and some pepperoni and cheese sticks. I hung out in the shade on some rocks listening to the ripple of the creek and the stillness of the forest. Lastly I went up to the top pool which was the hottest. It was in the shade and ended up being perfect. I remembered the slant of the rock from last time, which was ideal for reclining. It was a much smaller pool, and nice to have completely to myself. I sat there for a long time and almost fell asleep. There was half a joint sitting by the lower pool and melted white candle wax hear the one up top. This place would be great at night when it was cold out. I thought about camping here but decided to push on to Apgar Campground, which I was hoping wouldn't be closed because of COVID. I liked to have a picnic table where I camped. Unfortunately, this year as I was leaving the Weir Creek trailhead parking lot, no one was giving away cold beer.

I was passing one waterfall after another on the side of the road, and it reminded me of the Carretera Austral. Yesterday's off-road experience also brought back rich memories. There were huge mountains around here. If I had taken the second section of the Lolo Trail Option, I would have had to climb two 7000' passes. The highway was smooth as silk and easy. I needed the headwind to hold me back. The tightly packed cedar trees cramming the steep ridges reminded me of porcupine quills or bird feathers. A white pick-up truck brushed by me a little too close. I only had a 6 inch shoulder and was on top of the white line. It was a straight-away and there were passing markings. He could have used the oncoming lane to pass me. What a dick! Not cool. A semi-truck later drove by that was hauling a helicopter.

The Lochsa River was mostly white water and rushing rapids. I spotted a still section that had some depth, so I pulled over to take a swim. I dove off a rock into the water, and it was bracing. The experience felt so good that I did it again. Down the road the Lochsa Historical Ranger Station was closed because of COVID. The sign was covered with contractor bags as had been the sign at the previous campground. I crossed over Fish Creek and saw a pedestrian suspension bridge in the distance. I stopped and cleaned my rearview mirror. I had cleaned my sunglasses at the hot springs, and my clear vision was once again restored.

I spotted another one of my Rusty Crank stickers from the Trans Am along with a Dude Robot sticker on a Caution Pedestrian Crossing sign. It was cool being back here. I passed Tumble Creek which was essentially a waterfall. I hadn’t seen so many rushing streams and waterfalls since Patagonia. My new tight shoes were cramping my toes, so I pulled over at the Split Creek trailhead. I sat at the other end of the suspension bridge to eat an apple and munch on some trail mix. A few miles down the road I passed Knife Edge Campground, and could see people camping. I crossed over Dead Man’s Creek, Glade Creek, and finally Apgar Creek. 

Apgar Campground was fortunately open and I selected campsite number three located near the river. It was much nicer than site one, where I had camped with Scott and Eileen. There were only two other sites in use. Two years ago it had been crowded. I set up my tent, and cooked a freeze-dried packet of Alpine Aire Pepper Beef with Rice, which I enjoyed along with Jack Links Beef Pepperoni Sticks. By the time my dinner was over, I was down to less than a liter of water. I sat at the picnic table and edited today's report. There was no cell phone service here, so the upload would have to wait. It was here two years ago that Eileen had diagnosed me with Peter Pan syndrome. I got sprinkled with fairy dust every night, and I would never grow up. This was my third cross country tour, three years in a row, and I was blessed.















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