February has been another wet month, but it did allow a few days of respite, and some unseasonably warm temperatures.
My
wife and young daughter took a week to visit her family out of town,
and I took advantage of the weekend with outdoor extended riding each
day. This culminated in a day on the exercise areas of Joint Base
Lewis/McChord (JBLM), hundreds of acres of wooded and meadowed lands
laced with service roads and no big hills. Perfect for a nice long
cruise.
I'd
been out in these areas twice before, both times relying on the "easier
to ask forgiveness than permission" factor. I figured the worst that
could happen was that I'd be escorted off the range and sent on my way.
With some recent happenings in Texas, where riders were being fined and
having their bikes confiscated, I'd take the higher road and actually
get permission to ride.
I
was clued in by another local rider that the process was simple, and
free, though a little time consuming. Contacting the Range Command office at JBLM, I found where to go and made the trip in to get my
permit. Aside from that, it was just a matter of seeing which zones were
open on the day I had to ride, and mapping out a route that avoided the
areas closed for exercises and endangered insect breeding (yes,
seriously, there are areas that are closed indefinitely due to being
breeding grounds for certain endangered insects).
The
weather on the day looked to be perfect, climbing to near 60 at the
warmest, and mostly cloudless. A welcome change from the last few months
of near constant rains. I embarked on my 50 mile route at about 9:30,
with temperatures hovering in the low 40's.
After a few miles of pavement, I turned north into the woods and gravel roads. Quietness and solitude.
As
I rode, certain things caught my eye, and I found the theme of the day
-- trees and water. The gravel roads were mostly dry and in good shape,
but several have fairly fresh gravel laid down, so the going was slow at
times.
 |
| Second water crossing, not conducive to riding. |
Right
at the half-way point I hit my first water crossing. A concrete ramp on
both sides made it easy, and it was only about a foot deep, allowing me
to ratchet the pedals one-footed and stay completely dry. But just a
short distance later, I met up with a more challenging stream. Paved
with concrete blocks spaced about six inches apart, and an undetermined
depth, I decided to doff my shoes and socks and carry the bike across.
Riding through this would have been disastrous. So I strapped my shoes
onto the bike, hoisted it onto my shoulder, and carefully picked my way
across.
Fortunately
this one ended up only to be about knee deep. But this is February,
remember, and temperatures had only elevated in the couple days previous
to this, and the water was running at a fair clip. My feet were numb by
the time I was half-way across. Thank goodness for wool socks! I got
feeling back within a couple miles, and continued on my way. |
| Third and last water crossing -- deep and cold |
 |
| This view never gets old. |
About
ten miles later, I saw a sign up ahead that read "Approved for..." For
what, I wondered. As I neared, though, it became apparent. "APPROVED
FORD." Meaning another water crossing. This one running faster and
deeper. Like the first, though, it was paved with concrete ramps on both
sides. Again, I doffed my shoes and socks, strapped them to the bike,
and started across.
Slowly
the water got deeper. Past the knees... Still downward. Feet numb all
over again, I hoped that I didn't step on a sharp rock. Finally the
water level stopped at just below crotch height (whew!), then began
ebbing again. I dropped the bike on the other side and let the water run
off before putting my socks and shoes back on and continuing on my way.
Fortunately
that was the last water crossing. I was able to keep my shoes on the
rest of the ride, winding my way north and east, finishing back where I
started in the Walmart parking lot.
Two McD's cheeseburgers for the road got me back home.
