Twelve days, 800km later, we bid adieu to the beautiful state of Washington.
We departed Republic in the morning, and set out for the highest mountain pass the state has to offer. This one was a steep grind, and included the proverbial killer finale. A winding hairpin that had us reaching deep into the lung capacity reserves. Add in an endless brigade of trucks carrying such things as rocks, logs, and garbage, and a moderately hot sun, and you can imagine how many times we wish to repeat this particular stretch of highway. Nonetheless, we made it in decent time, and cherished the sign atop Sherman Pass: "It's all downhill from here."
Thankfully.
The descent, as usual, was a balance between being safe and not overheating the brakes/rims. On the way down we ran into Dorothy and Karl again and rode with them across the Columbia River and on into Kettle Falls, where several ice cream products were purchased. They decided to spend the night there, while we soldiered on beyond Colville.
Turns out, there lies a fairly challenging series of hills leaving town, which slowed our pace considerably. We eventually putted our way down Hotchkiss Road far enough to hit the apparently very well known Bacon Bike Hostel, and were blown away! Nothing could be more welcome after a 103km day, with a good 1250m of climbing, than a beautiful free house all to ourselves! The Bacon family are, in a word, awesome!
The rest of Washington was fairly uneventful. Smooth riding along our trusty friend HWY 20, and the satisfaction of having actually reached a huge milestone on our journey. One state laid to bed.
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