Beautiful Washington.
Ryan and I after our second long climb of the day. He pulled me up.
Stuff.
Our bikes locked to the Honey Bucket outhouse.
Blewett Pass. Its hot! Temps are over 100 degrees. Today was another tough day of climbs, but 20 miles shorter, which was a nice break. I participated in my first "pace line," which was amazing. Its a great feeling to be hauling around 24 mph and needing to barely pedal. My eyes have been opened to the power of the draft.
Today I caught myself thinking, "Only a mile from the top," and quickly realized that I don't think there is any hill in Michigan that is a mile long. So I guess we are acclimating to the terrain well. There are a lot of tough people in this group of cyclists.
This life is good. We're settling into the routine of camp life, and cycling (I'm learning not to call it biking), and talking with strangers along the way. We are quite a spectacle-- 141 riders spread thin along the highway in our bright yellow safety vests, all shapes and sizes and speeds. We stop to talk with onlookers whenever we can, handing them our Sea to Sea "business card." It feels sort of like handing out a tract, which I'm not a big fan of, but it just has info about our ride.
I think we all have learned to pack bigger lunches. Not to put anything in our jersey pockets that we don't want soaked with sweat. And that Canadians are very patriotic.
The supper horn is honking.
Thank you all for your prayers.
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