The new strategy of riding the morning and quitting by noon is working. I feel like I am in Squid Games playing red light green light. Instead of a massive sniper firing doll figure this game is against the sun. I feel like Idaho is so close but I can only move for a short period of time. Then I have to wait it out until the next day. It is frustrating but some of me wonders if I am in shape to do more than 45 miles a day anyway. Hopefully we get a chance to find out down the road.
The positive to starting early is you get the sunrise and views like this.
Yesterday the environment was what I would call barren, hard scrabble, and dirty. Pretty in the way an ugly dog is cute. The Town I spent the afternoon in was tired, dirty, and seemingly beaten down by the lack of opportunity. It was not cute just ugly. There was litter everywhere, burned out cars, junk piles, and dilapidated houses bunched together with no rhyme or reason. This was not what I had hoped for when envisioning this trip. Was the rest of Eastern Washington going to look like Nevada’s broke cousin?
The Answer is no. Within a few miles the landscape opened up into rolling agricultural lands. Their owners keeping them neat as pins and well maintained. Even the equipment yards were organized, clean, and their equipment seemingly ready to be deployed at a moments notice. It was beautiful. Don’t get me wrong it still looked like life out here was a battle but the inhabitants here seemed more than capable of fighting that fight.
The guide for today’s section of trail said to ride on the adjacent road for the first 7 miles due to an infestation of goat heads. If you are unfamiliar with these infernal weeds you are lucky. This plant creates seed pods that have spikes in such a pattern that no matter how they fall at least one point is sticking straight up ready to puncture what ever has the misfortune to step or roll over it.
So to the road it was. The road crews have been busy. The road was recently re-graveled and rode smooth if only a little slow due to the gravel not being firmly compacted (I believe a lack of water is likely the culprit here). So much better than the trail. In fact I never returned to the trail. I had 22’ wide fresh gravel taking me through beautiful farmland and for 3 hours I saw no one.
Today’s objective was Othello and more importantly Othello Golf Course. Three miles outside of town this course came into view just as I was starting to feel the miles and the temperature was creeping into the nineties.
Othello is a fruit farming town. The beautifully maintained orchards had stretched out as far as I could see for the last 15 miles. And Othello golf course is there for the farmers of the area who plowed 9 holes out of a cow pasture back in 1965.
I arrived to the usual stares and consistent remarks about the heat and my “seat”. After I found the pro shop it was clear this was a well loved amenity and had a strong community. The men’s and ladies league score boards were front and center and full of names. To call it rustic would be an understatement but it had more to offer its guests than most local courses. There were real lockers, a shower, and a barn to keep your personal carts.
Per usual, word spread across the complex about the weirdo that just rolled up on a bike with clubs and folks came by to see for themselves. I think people are more mystified by the fact that I play with only three clubs than how I am getting those clubs to the course.
The course layout itself is pedestrian by any standard. What you see is what you get here. Pancake flat the whole way around, no rough to speak of, and hardly a dogleg to be found. But the fairways are hemmed in by massive trees guarding anything but a perfectly straight shot. Then there are the greens. It should be no surprise that a community that farms would take their agronomy serious. I would be hard pressed to remember a course under $100 (it is $22 for nine here) that had greens as perfect, fast, or deceptive as this course. I had 6 three putts. All together a great time even though I played alone and failed to get a single birdie. Chatting with the old timers in the “clubhouse” made up for that.
Finished by 12:30 I headed to a motel to shower, get a meal, do general maintenance on Alister, and go to bed early. Oh, I also darned a tear in my gloves. A stitch in time saves nine right?