Moving on from Mitchell

Yesterday morning, all of us who stayed overnight at Patrick and Jalet’s amazing bike hostel in Mitchell lingered around the breakfast table having a conversation.  None of us were in a hurry to leave because the place is so relaxed and comfortable. The young cycling couple, Erica and Adriel, decided to stay another night. I thought about it briefly but wanted to ride another day before taking a rest day. –As a side note, Erica is traveling  across the US on her grandfather’s old Fuji bicycle which has only twelve gears. I have absolutely no idea how she’s been climbing these hills.  I guess being 23 years old helps.

So it was a sad goodbye to the town of Mitchell. That sadness carried on because as I pedaled away from the hostel I immediately had to face a relentless six mile climb to the top of another mountain pass. But this is good preparation for what’s to come, which is what I keep telling myself. When you are not accustomed to long uphills, you really need to focus your mind on other things and don’t look too far ahead (literally). And don’t keep looking at the odometer, if you can help it.

The upside, of course, is the other side side of the mountain. In this case, it was about eighteen miles of steady downhill, sometimes in beautiful, wide open spaces, sometimes in a winding, enclosed area.  Then a final twelve miles of primarily flat riding before entering the town of Dayville.

Dayville felt like a nice little town upon riding in.  There was a restaurant on the right and a store, or mercantile as it was called, on my left. I didn’t want to sit down for a lunch so I parked the bike at the mercantile and went in to see what they had.

The young girl behind the counter was talking with someone, obviously from the area.  As he left and as I was picking out a few things she said, “I just baked some homemade cookies if you want to buy some.” As hungry as I was, this was going to be her easiest sale of the day. “What kind did you make?”  “Oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, and snicker doodle– but I was just telling you I have them, you don’t have to buy them.” “No, that’s ok. I’ll take one oatmeal raisin and one chocolate chip.” “OK, if you’re sure” she said.  “I just biked here from Mitchell and I’m not leaving without those cookies,” I replied.

This started a conversation of where I was biking to.  She told me that a church around the corner had set up a great place for cyclists to stay. This was very tempting, but I had to get more miles in.  I thanked her for the hard fought cookies and went to the bench outside.  A midday break is as relaxing as it gets if you find a good place to sit with a good setting.  This was one of those places.

The last 23 miles to Mount Vernon were routine, with the exception of the last four where the wind seemed to pick up out of nowhere and an uphill portion began. It was around five when I pulled into town. The population of Mount Vernon is around 500, so getting through town takes minutes.

Patrick and Jalet, the owners of the hostel I had stayed in the previous night had recommended a place to stay in town. How I missed it,  I’m not sure. Plan B was to look at the Adventure Cycling map I had which lists places.  There was a cyclist only spot just up the street and off the main road.

There was a very nice house across the street from a big green field with a sign out front which read “Bike Inn – Guest House and Camping.”  I pulled up to the side of the house.  A dog came down to greet me, but I didn’t see a person.  I looked around a bit and eventually knocked on the side door of the home. Nobody answered.  The dog was following me as I looked around some more. I noticed a sign that stated “Bike Inn – White door” with an arrow pointing the way. I knocked on the white door. No answer.

So I turned the knob and it was unlocked. Inside was a very clean, homey, comfortable looking place. Separate from the main house, it had a living room area with a kitchen, a bathroom and two bedrooms. A sign on the table read, in part, “Congratulations on your miles! Help yourself to whatever is in the cupboards and refrigerator.  Enjoy the towels, shower and pillows. Clean sheets are in the closet. Make yourself at home. The dog’s name is Barbie. She loves tug-of-war.” Then the women left her number asking for you to call her to let her know you were planning on staying.  My phone service doesn’t work here, but luckily she gave a wifi password so I called her through Skype and left a message.

A short while later the daughter came by saying that her mother is out of town, but that it certainly was ok to stay here.  So neat that people set up places like this along the way. I’ll be here two nights as the next riding day is a long one. I’ll take the first rest day of the trip today to do laundry and take care of a few other things. I also need to finally go through my bags and organize things in a better way. Week one is done.

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