This weekend we set out on an adventure. We had heard of a bike trail that crossed most of the Idaho Panhandle. It is the longest paved bike trail in the United States (at least that's what we read), so we thought we should take advantage of this and get out and do it. After putting it off for several weekends because of weather, we finally geared up and headed out Friday after school. By the time we got to the trail, which was about 1 1/2 hours away, loaded up our bikes with all of our camping gear and clothes, etc. it was already getting late. We were only able to ride about 10 miles before we saw it was going to get dark soon, so we found a campground and settled down for the night.
The next morning, we got up and headed out again, with what we thought would be about 62 miles to ride for the day. The trail was beautiful, flat, and paved, so we really enjoyed it. We were, however, freezing and our toes were numb. The sun finally came out in the afternoon and we did warm up. We had decided beforehand that we would stop at one of the towns along the way where the oldest building in Idaho, an old Catholic Mission, still stands today. The sign said it was 3 miles from the trail so we went that direction but after at least 4 miles on the same road, seeing no signs, we decided we had missed something. We asked a man along the road, who gave us some directions that didn't really make sense, so instead we just decided to turn around. About a mile from the trail John spotted a tiny, white paper sign that said "Old Mission" so we turned and finally found it. It was worth the extra trip to see. The building was built by hand without tools in the 1800's. You can still see the straw and mud used on the inside of the walls. It was incredible to see what they were able to build with so little.
So after seeing this, we got back to the trail and pressed on toward the goal- Heyburn State Park. We finally made it after 72 miles and I'm not sure I've ever been so happy to eat macaroni and cheese and canned chicken.
That night we had a visitor, who also must have been happy about macaroni and cheese. We woke up to a loud bang on our picnic table around 4:30 am. We realized suddenly that we hadn't done anything with our food to prevent animals from getting into it, and we had left our bear spray in our bag beside the picnic table. We were convinced that there was a bear just outside our tent and were scared to death. John yelled to try to scare it off, but it only growled. It walked around and growled some more, then we heard noises at the trash can across the road from our tent and a chirping noise... It was only a raccoon! Before I realized it was a raccoon, I don't know if I have ever felt so helpless. I just kept praying that God would keep us safe and whatever it was would leave and not come back. It did. We went back to sleep and woke up thankful to be alive.
That morning we headed back to Mullan, which took about 7 hours of riding, resting, eating, and
drinking lots of Gatorade. We enjoyed the ride and all of the adventure that it brought (except the growling raccoon). The last 10 miles were brutal and we were so glad to be back in our car and in normal clothes and to sleep in our own bed and have a nice dinner. This makes it sound like we were miserable, but we really did have a good time. Our muscles are sore and still recovering, but it was a huge accomplishment for us to take on this long of a trip in a weekend. We rode longer both days than we have ever ridden in a single day. Just call us Lance Armstrong... Next stop- Tour de France. Okay maybe not.
