How to beat the heat

I get stronger but I can’t beat the heat.

I overcome physical and mental obstacles but I can’t beat the heat.

Riding in triple digit temperatures feels quite Mordor-like. Here, the sun is the ever-watching eye. Does that make my bicycle “the precious?”

Over the past four days, I have climbed just over 13,000 feet. On Friday, 7/22, I climbed an unnamed mountain for 19 miles in the Nez Perce Reservation. The climb started gradually but for the last 10 miles it was a steady slog at 4 to 5%, with absolutely no short downhill breaks. That sucker just went up and up. At any time of the year, doing a climb of this magnitude would be a challenge for the athletically inclined. But, like a mad dog or Englishman, I did the climb in the middle of the afternoon during a record-setting week of high temperatures. I had to stop every few miles and take a break. Fortunately, cool and quick-running Lapwai Creek runs alongside the highway, and I was able to scramble down a rocky embankment and soak my weary head in its icy waters.

The next day I got a late start and after a few miles had to climb the steep western slope of White Bird Mountains (but was rewarded with a 15-mile downhill). Following my speedy descent I rode 25 miles in the exposed road alongside the Salmon River, again, smack in the heat of the day (are you seeing a pattern here?). Once again, by mile 50 I felt like gelatin that has been left on the counter too long. I still had 28 miles to go and by mile 55, resting and chewing wearily on a Clif Bar on the gravel just off the road’s shoulder, I must have looked pretty bad because a woman who had stopped at the side of the road called out to me, “Are you okay?”

I like to sleep. But I was willing to forgo sleep to get on the road before the day got too hot. I woke up yesterday and, wanting to get on the road quickly, skipped breakfast, thinking I would grab a bite at the next town, which was only 8 miles away. I was in a valley at 4000 feet, boondocking with the van in a forest, and therefore had no internet connection to bring up the Komoot app and check out the ride’s profile. “Meh,” I said to myself, “it’s only 8 miles.”

Never say “Meh” on a cross-country bike trip.

Not only did the first 5 miles of the ride see me gain 1500 feet of elevation, but I did this steep climb sans caffeine, the rising sun in my eyes, on a narrow road, with weekend recreational traffic speeding past me (remember folks, American RVs can be as wide as tanks), and the day turning into a scorcher.

Ironically, as the climb peaked at 5400 feet, I saw a sign welcoming me to “Valley County.”

Today, for the first time since we left home, I set my alarm to get up before the crack of dawn (it really is a crack; I heard it) and I was on the road to begin my 70 mile ride as the sun rose over the ridges of the Boise National Forest. I put in 37 miles before 11 a.m. and did nothing except eat and drink as the day turned into a scorcher. I started the 33-mile stretch to complete the day at 4 pm and, 10 miles later, rode through Garden Valley, ID where the digital thermometer outside the local high school told me that it was 102 degrees. But it didn’t bother me so much because, earlier, I had dunked my head into the South Fork of the Payette River which ran alongside the road for the first 8 miles, soaked my neck buff in its cool waters, and filled a water bottle from the river which I later regularly poured over my helmet, and let evaporation do its cooling trick. And even though I had to climb over 1000 feet on that stretch, I never felt that I was suffering from the heat.

If I am not too tired tomorrow, I will have a go at “suffering,” which is something of a theme for this trip.

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