Day 11
Baker City, OR to Oxbow, OR
71 miles
Max Temperature: 117.6F
Another early morning to give myself ample
time to pack in some more of Ivy’s wonderful food, and to have a
chat with Ivy and Ernie, and scratch Rufus behind the ears, before pedalling off
with tears in my eyes. Yes, crazy since I’ve only known them for two days, but
they really made me feel so welcome that it was hard to leave.
Once I had eventually torn myself away, I
plodded my way up the hill and past the Interpretative Centre I visited the day
before. It wasn’t long before I found myself in the midst of miles and miles of
sweeping plains and valleys, with a backdrop of petrel-grey-blue mountains
emerging from the misty morning sun. With hardly any cars or trucks, it really
was eye-wateringly beautiful. And when the Powder River started to snake
alongside the road too, the sun glinting off its surface, it was difficult to
think of what could top it. Then I saw a heron, which flapped its powerful
wings and sadly took off as soon as it sensed I had spotted it, but really the
whole experience made my heart want to burst with joy!
After the initial climb, I was treated to a
long stretch of gentle downhill, rolling into the small town of Richland after
around 42 miles. I stopped at a small store and sipped on an iced mocha as I
tucked into the goodies that Ivy had lovingly packed for me. By the time I
emerged and set out again, it was just before 12 and the sun was high in the
sky. Knowing that I had a steep ascent ahead in the rising heat hung over me
like a sharp pin poised on the skin of the joyful bubble, but I resolved to
smile and grind through it.
A little way after the climb had started, I
decided to pull over and allow my Florence of Arabia head-dress to make its
first appearance. Cue Flelfie
Dousing it with cold water to maximize the effect and getting
ready to set off again, I took a quick glance at the Gamine, which was
reporting a temperature of 105F! Still, I stuck with the plan.
It was around half way up that I started to
struggle. With no shade, and completely still, dead heat that only seemed to be
increasing, I decided to stop again.
There was nothing to lean Steed against, and I felt myself shaking as I
tried to steady the bike enough to get out the spare water from the panniers
and douse Florence again. I almost didn’t want to look but couldn’t help
checking the temperature again.
Seeing it reporting 117.6F made my stomach
flip. But I still thought that, with Florence in place, and without my helmet
or glasses on, I could make it to the top fairly quickly. Setting off again, I
started to will cars and trucks to come along just to provide some wind as they
went past. And for the only time so far on the trip, a headwind would have been
welcome.
Of course, the top was slightly further
away than I thought, but eventually I reached the elusive sign, and felt the air
started to move as I went over the top. Although the downhill felt like someone
blowing a hair drier in my face on the hot setting, as I descended further a
cool breeze swept in and I heard rumbles of thunder in the distance.
Around 10 miles from Oxbow, I heard a weird
siren sound coming from my handlebar bag. I ignored it initially deciding it was probably
some piece of electronic equipment telling me that it had blown itself
out in the crazy heat, but in fact it was an alert from the weather service
warning of flash floods in my area.
All considered, I decided to pull into the
café in Oxbow, out of danger. Oh, and to have a big enough meal to last me
through until tomorrow morning so I could just collapse when I got to my
B&B a further three miles down the road. The guys in there looked after me
with gallons of waters and lemonade, and then a frosty beer with my spicy Snake
Bite Half-Pound burger and fries.
And so I am now safe at my B&B, ready
for an even earlier start tomorrow, in a vague attempt to deal with the crazy
heat…
Me x
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