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August 3-4, 1999

August 4, 1999 Richmond to Union Creek Campground (15 miles west of Baker City, OR) Brian's Ride Miles Biked: 60.4 Average Speed: 13.3 mph Max Speed: 29.6 mph Time Pedaling: 4 hours 32 minutes Total Feet Climbed: 3670 Start/Stop Time: 8:40 am to 4:00 pm Wind: Mostly calm changing to variable breeze Weather: 70s to 80s. Clear skies changing to overcast with occasional drizzle in the afternoon. Riding from Richmond to Union Creek was a beautiful ride. Before the climb to Flagstaff Hill, the road followed the Powder River. Similar to the last few days, the riparian zone along the River was green while the remainder was scrub/sagebrush desert. In an occasional valley, irrigation greened the landscape and large cubes of hay were stacked in orderly fashions. Even the climb up Flagstaff Hill was beautiful as it afforded views of the valley and the Wallowa Mountains (topping out at 10,000 feet). At the peak of the hill, there is the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center which tells the story of the settler's travels on the Oregon Trail. I opted out since it was a climb up above the road. I met Joan in Baker City. After lunch and the interview, I pedaled on to Union Creek on Highway 7. Highway 7 followed the Powder River along more irrigated fields and scrub desert hills. The road then climbed into the Wallowa-Whitman and Malheur National Forests where a thicket of Ponderosa Pine covered the land and the location of the Union Creek Campground. Joan's Version Before Brian even left the campsite, he had to fix flats on both tires of his bicycle. A snarl replaced our usual kiss. Soon he was off for another adventure and I, of course, was still in camp. I honestly don't know how I manage to squander so many hours each day, but I do. Today, the camp manager gave me the keys to the RV office and allowed me to have unlimited phone time for e-mail. He asked simply that I lock the door upon my departure. This is the essence of our experience in Richland. By the fish cleaning area, a resident provided fish gutting lessons with the 5 trout he had just caught and wondered aloud why I would want to learn to fish when getting them from the store was less expensive and much more time efficient. He pointed out the cost of each boat as it passed by, "Sixteen thousand for the boat and at least a grand in tackle" as he silently calculated and translated these figures into the price per pound of the trout he so prepared. After my first fishing (and business) lesson, I placed one of our "Cycle Across America" tee-shirts on Zeeke's chair, outside, on his porch since his car was no where to be seen. I stalled in the campground, hoping to get another dose of this spunky man. He was more full of life than many 20 year-olds I've encountered. Just as I was about to pull anchor', Zeeke appeared. His big booming voice broadcast his appreciation of the tee shirt as I ran to the trailer. He invited me inside to meet Margery, his wife of 40 years. Inside, a warm and gentle 86 year old woman spoke of their 5 biological and several adopted children, scattered throughout the country. Confined to a wheelchair, she shared how Zeeke attentively cared for her for so many years. Jeff pranced under and around the chair and then all throughout this bright and cheery trailer. On the ceiling hung colorful baseball hats from all over the world, on the walls, photos of many different families, on the chairs, brillant stuffed animals. The smiling faces and the vivid colors gave me a glimpse of what love looks like. I sadly said my farewells and felt honored to have met such a vibrant couple. Zeeke said he wished we could stay for dinner as he was going "to bbq chicken, and it was going to be darn good". I wished with all my heart we could have stayed. Driving from the lush valley into the arid and remote high desert jolted me. Looking around, I saw nothing but barren, brown mountains and blue sky. Miles and miles of desert surrounded me. I wanted to go back to the robust and hearty feeling that Zeeke inspired. I met up with Brian as he was cycling down the mountains. Pulling into historic Baker City, we met for a quick lunch as we had a radio interview lined up in 45 minutes. Brian was wiped out from the ride, but he perked up for the interview. Brian, unusually verbose, answered the questions with long, interesting monologues, which prompted me to ask the interviewer from KCMB, Andrew Holz, if I could keep the microphone, as this was the most I had ever heard him talk. We cracked the code, all it took was a microphone and my normally reserved husband talked incessantly. We really clicked with Andrew, and by the end of the interview felt we'd made a new friend. On later reflection, Brian and I agreed that connecting with people on such a deep level has been one of the greatest gifts of the journey. By offering our story and our quest for help for Brian's brother, others are able to share their own struggles and accomplishments. Connecting with people, with nature and each other, we cross this diverse and amazingly beautiful country.

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