Oh yes, it’s that good.

Your Faithful Correspondent has actually been somewhat less faithful to the blog over the last few weeks, owing to a excellent visit to the land of the free and the home of the brave. But the fun and games are over now, people, as he has returned to Mexico in search of some decent grub and a population that doesn’t spend all day complaining about gas prices. (UPDATE: Found!)

So here’s the plan: This week and next week, we have a “what I did on my summer vacation” sort of feature - a travel log about my recent 1,000-mile bike trip between Western Washington and Glacier National Park. (Hope someone outside of my immediate family finds that one interesting.) Then, we get back to chronicling Mexico, the way God clearly intended.

What would posses someone of otherwise sound mind to attempt a 1,000-mile bike trip? The answer, in a word, is drugs. Not the kind that get law enforcement all riled up, but rather the sort that the brain naturally produces en masse when you are averaging 80 miles a day. There’s no describing this sublimity to the uninitiated, so I won’t bother trying, but trust me on this one, it’s great.

The other great advantage goes to those of us who, in normal life, simply cannot stop thinking and planning. Maybe this lot should take up Zen or vodka or something, but cycling seems a pretty good option as well. On the road, life is stripped down to the essentials, converting minds that usually focus on ”retirement plan, doctors appointment, women, future” into minds that pretty much stick to “food, water, sleep.”

Call it the ultimate mind-clearing experience, all done in settings that couldn’t be more beautiful. It’s not fun, per say. But it still does great in the meaning department.

(Click here to view a map of the first week’s adventure.)

Day 1/July 14: Olympia, WA to Randle, WA - 85 miles     The road out of Olympia (home of parents, one of whom is a bike mechanic) led to rural logging Republican country pretty fast and afforded some excellent views of Mt. Ranier. I followed Highway 7, and the Nisqually River, past a number of pennance parks created by Tacoma Power for those who enjoy the fishless flatwater the company’s dams create. Shopped for dinner at a grocery store in Morton, home of a thriving saw mill. At a campground near Randle, I basically collapsed, more exhausted than I had been in a very long time. Then, a hoard of mosquitoes - by far the worst of the trip - took advantage of my vulnerability.

Day 2: Randle, WA to Carson, WA - 80 miles     Hills and sore feet marked this day of elevation gains and scant available supplies. The ride started, for some inexplicable reason, at 5:30 a.m., and that necessitated a two-hour nap at a Forest Service day use area not long after. Saw some beautiful ribbons of fog spilling over the green hills and a few early riser livestock as I cruised toward the Gifford Pinchot National Forest. Views of Mt. Saint Helens were frequent and up close, as the road essentially went through its backyard. Ranier also popped into view in the morning, and also Adams, which competed with the smoke of the Cold Springs fire. I found a hot shower at a campground outside Carson. From my picnic table I could see the Columbia River. I had difficulty feeling my pinkie toes.

Day 3: Hanging out in camp - 0 miles     Finally gave in to frantic petitions from my knees and other sensitive areas and took a day off. I spent most of it wandering around the grounds in a trance. Then I woke up in the evening.

Day 4: Carson, WA to Roosevelt, WA - 94 miles     A ferocious tailwind carried the day, which started in a rainforest and ended in the brown hills of Eastern Washington. Temperatures were in the 90s, and water was about to run out at one point just before I found a small orchard with a faucet. The woman at the Roosevelt Mini Mart, who keeps a kind of guestbook of all the cyclists who swing by, directed me to a free campground on the banks of the Columbia. Just a field with picnic tables and a bathroom with showers, which is all I ever want on these trips anyway. In camp, I met a couple of guys from Guadalajara who work the fields in the U.S. for nine months a year. Also an Indian named Blue Jay who was there for a pow-wow the following day. The appetite kicked into gear, with dinner consisting of two cheeseburgers, two burritos, an apple, some string cheese and marshmallows. But I was missing Mexican food.

Day 5: Roosevelt, WA to Pendleton, OR - 88 miles     Tailwind continued all the way to Umatilla, where I hooked a right and returned to God’s Country (Oregon). Who knows what those Washington punks are capable of, but Oregonians can generally be trusted. For instance, a gentleman at the Welcome Center told me that there was really nothing in North Umatilla County, so I rerouted my way to Pendleton. From Hermiston to the comically named Echo and along a back-road that follows the beautiful Umatilla River. The desert terrain continued, resembling New Mexico a great deal. In Pendleton I sprang for a room at the Relax Inn, where I had yet another glorious shower. Honestly, you can never truly appreciate showers until you have one at the end of the day on a bike trip. Just divine. I also concluded that the persistent pain in my foot, which had spread to both of my knees, probably had more to do with the aged state of my shoes rather than old age (25) aches and pains. The shoes were little better than an extra pair of socks, and the new pair eventually proved to be the ticket back to a pain-free riding experience.

Day 6: Pendleton, OR to Minam State Recreation Area, OR - 86 miles     Got out of Pendleton late thanks to some phone calls that needed making. Also put Slime in the tires to guard against the hated goat heads. I started out taking a long and winding county road toward La Grande. But it was too winding, and after a while I opted for Interstate 84. Not the most scenic option, but generous shoulders! After wolfing down dinner outside of the La Grande Safeway I headed north through wheat and alfalfa fields to Elgin, then east to the Minam Recreation area, which is ranked by The Oregonian as one of the state’s ten best campgrounds. It’s an old fishing stream deep in a canyon. The camping is primitive, so that keeps most of the RV riffraff out as well. The last act of the day was a refreshing dip in the river.

Day 7: Minam State Recreation Area, OR to Joseph, OR - 38 miles     Enjoyed the first hot food in a week courtesy of my neighbors at Minam, who had more food than they could eat. Hash browns, eggs, and chicken never tasted so good. The ride that morning, up a gently sloping Wallowa River, was excruciating, thanks to the previous day’s trek over the Blue Mountians. Things didn’t improve when I reached flatter farm country. They did, however, get better in Joseph, where I met up with Craig Strobel, college roommate of my old man and brother of my godfather. We - he and his two daughters - went for a dip in scenic Wallowa lake, and then to a barn dance. I ate three gigantic plates of food and daughter Betsy taught me a few swing moves to the accompaniments of a local bluegrass trio. After, Betsy, Craig’s ex-wife, Monica, and I stayed up late talking about religion. It seems necessary to have at least one of these late night conversations once a year or so.

The exciting conclusion next week!