Refueling on the first climb

WHISKEYTOWN to WILLOW CREEK (Amy) -- We left our campsite by 7am. I was angry with Ryan but I can’t remember why. I was tired and cranky. Because of this I did not bother putting on my warm gloves when we started riding. But the air was so cold. Ryan was leading at a pretty slow pace and I raced ahead of him because my hands were freezing. Note: This does not help. I went faster and faster and finally I just had to stop and have Ryan put my gloves on me because my hands were so painfully cold.

On this day we had to go over two sizable passes before we got to our lunch destination, Weaverville. The first one, Buckhorn Summit, had a lot of switchbacks and had no shoulder. The car drivers in this area were not very courteous. It was cold and the big mountains that led up to this pass were all covered with snow. We had to take a lot of breaks. Ryan became giddy and was making a lot of corny jokes. At the top, we were sad to see snow. We put on our warm clothes and descended.

On the second pass Ryan became unhappy. We had to take an extended tea and chocolate break. He was tired out. One of the ways he expressed his tiredness was to complain that we had not gone farther the night before. And I have to admit that, had I known there would be so much climbing all in one day, I would not have been so into stopping where we did the previous day.

Um, that sorta looks like rain.

Shortly after our break, we descended a bit and took a break at a rest stop. Here we read about all the unsolved murders in the area for the past 15 years.

But there was a bright point: We thought we had a long climb ahead of us to get to Weaverville, and I was personally tired and starving. We got distracted by a big bunch of deer and then suddenly we were already in town with much less effort than we expected. Still, Ryan was totally bonking on the outskirts of town, and I was a little worried.

We went to a nice café (Noelle's Garden Cafe) where the owner commented on how much food we were able to put away. Ryan drank two lattes and had a brownie sundae in addition to a regular lunch.

Ryan promised that there would be one brief climb after lovely Weaverville, and he was right, but the giant-sized desserts we had just eaten made it slow.

Ah, a latte before the next pass

Then we descended fast and were following the Trinity River. Finally here was the kind of riding that I like. It was all almost flat, maybe slightly downhill, easy and fast. We covered about 20 miles with very little effort and then I had to stop to pee. I did so near a historical marker for the early and tragically lost town of Bagdad.

We continued happily on, and then it started to sprinkle.

Then it started pouring and we put our rain gear on. It was probably two in the afternoon.

We rode, it rained.

I don’t so much mind moderate amounts of rain, but Ryan couldn’t see anything because of his glasses, so it was getting tedious for him. And, OK, this was not moderate rain. It went on for hours and hours. The constant little beating of raindrops was making me crazy.

Snowflake!

We had been aiming for the largest town in the area, Willow Creek, because someone at the table next to us in Weaverville told us said there was definitely a motel there. But really we would have stayed anywhere, so every tiny settlement, and eventually, every bend in the road, got our hopes for shelter up. And then dashed them.

Late in the day we took refuge at a rest stop. I called and talked to my sweetie and that was very heartening. Ryan left a message for his. The motorists looked at us with pity. A woman on her way to the bathroom commented, “A little wet out there huh?” I kind of appreciated the sympathy, but I might have preferred a different conversation starter.

It was getting near dark by this time, and I was completely beat. We left the rest stop and I had to stop for a snack shortly thereafter, I was almost bonking. I didn’t even look for a sheltered area, I just devoured a muffin in the downpour.

We learned that there are no accommodations between Weaverville and Willow Creek. When we finally got to Willow Creek it was late, we were demoralized and soaked. And then there was the Bigfoot Motel, with vacancy and looking well within our price range.

Often motel personnel are not excited to see bicyclists, so I took off my rain gear and tried to look like a non-cyclist. Still, the motel worker right away asked, “Are you OK?” So I had to come clean about the bicycles, and she was actually very nice and said she would check the weather for us on the Internet.

We took showers and ran in the dark and rain over to a restaurant serving an alarming variety of food. I ate so much. Ryan was more restrained. He was irritated about something, I can’t remember what.

We went back to the Bigfoot. We watched the weather reports, tried to dry our clothes, and then had a solid sleep.