Day Two

Almost, ALMOST, everything that could have gone wrong yesterday, did.

Inside of the first hour and fifty miles, on a secluded, single-track stretch of Highway 101 South, milepost 131, near Brinnon, traffic came to an abrupt halt. Somebody done did somethin' stupid was my first thought, and it was soon to be proven correct. The unofficial word among those stopped mid-trip was that an accident up around the bend was going to cause a road closure, both directions, between four to five hours. Those familiar with the area know that there are no alternative routes. One can U-turn and drive around, choosing Highway 3, maybe a three hour diversion, or U-Turn and drive way North and around the Olympics and the coastal route, easily a four hour trip. Nice start.

I chose to go and eat. Back into Port Ludlow, Chuimacum and Port Townsend. I am rapidly sliding towards a place that is not where I want to be, here on the first day of a ten day vacation. After a stop at a farmers market, where a four piece swing band is paying minor-key justice to one of my favorite Kinks songs, and I am singing the chorus, 'grazing on a sunny afternoon…' suddenly feeling much better and actually laughing at my impatience and tourist entitlement. A little further up the road I stop at a a small cafe that had caught my attention on past rides and pull in. A tasty veggie croissant, bag of chips and a Number 5 IPA  later, I now feel capable of waiting out the few hours it will take, according to the DOT, for the two totaled Harleys and their former owners that met head-on at 50 mph to be cleared from the asphalt. It is summertime, this is 101 and large bikes with small margins for error are everywhere.

The Sheriff's road sentry tells me it will be another three or four hours. I head back to another small cafe, order a blackberry crumble ala mode and coffee. There is no wifi. I hear of another mass shooting in El Paso on the small TV monitor in the cafe. Two older guys are taking about guns and I wish I was riding my bike and not stuck in this bad dream.

Finally we move, single file past the carnage, bikeage, and regain some momentum. I stop in Hoodsport at the base of the Lake Cushman/Staircase Rd for some food and change Whitey's Go-Pro. There is way too much auto traffic and the road turns to gravel after 11 miles. I decide to time-lapse the sunset from a bridge that separates the upper and lower lakes. As I do so I decide to download video from earlier in the day using the cigarette lighter inverter I bought in Kona shooting Ironman many years ago, and tested a few days ago. I am pleased that it seems to be working fine and walk away to check on the pair of cams I previously set up to capture the sunset.

I get back to WF and WTF? My laptop is off, black, dark and dead. Mid-download. This usually means, as an interrupted file transfer, that the media is lost. What else? I fume as I try to remain calm and not throw the Go-Pro I am holding in my hand into the lake, as ITS battery is malfunctioning.

I decide to call it a day and not tempt fate any further. I find a cool spot in the Staircase overflow parking area and set up for the night, charging phone and one camera with external power sources. I lay down on my bag, adjust my makeshift pillow and close my eyes.

And the palpitations begin.