Published on July 4, 2015 1:52PM
Less than 100 yards into the 1.7-mile Taft Tunnel, I had a severe meltdown.
The dark and damp tunnel is the first portion of the 15-mile Route of the Hiawatha, a mountain biking trail along the old Milwaukee Railroad bed in the Bitterroot Mountains of Montana and Idaho.
I could see the flashing red taillight affixed to my husband’s CamelBak approximately 15-20 feet ahead. John is a seasoned mountain biker and I had wanted this to be a fun outing we could share together. However, as I sucked on my asthma inhaler, I was seriously doubting whether I had the mettle to continue pedaling in the darkness.
I first heard about the Route of the Hiawatha from Henry Zitterkob. I told him time and injuries were beginning to take a toll on my body and impacting my ability to participate in some recreational activities.
He asked if I had heard about Hiawatha. Describing the adventure, Henry summarized with, “Even you could do it.”
I didn’t take this as a slam — Henry had been my long-time pharmacist and was aware of my various maladies over the years.
After breaking my shoulder, forcing me to temporarily lay down my golf clubs, I started riding my bike again. My most recent experience with pedaling was riding a stationary bike after a knee replacement, so cruising around town was refreshing.
I periodically posted on Facebook about my efforts to get in shape to ride Hiawatha. Former Hermiston resident Cathy Minnick, who now lives a short jaunt from the trail, reminded me the ride was pretty much downhill. Yeah, but if you haven’t been on a bike for awhile that’s gonna be one miserable ride.
Although it’s a gentle 1.7 percent grade, the flat areas require pedaling or you’ll tip over. Besides that, you gotta get your bum in shape to sit on a bike seat for several hours.
So, there I was — my forward progress at a standstill with a poorly lit headlamp strapped to my head.
I’m not sure how John came to the realization I was in distress, but soon he was at my side. Not wanting to put a damper on his Hiawatha experience (too late), I told him to ride ahead as I would be walking my bike through the tunnel. While I said that out loud, he evidently heard my inner voice pleading, “Don’t leave me.”
As people rode towards me in the darkened tunnel, I had two thoughts ... their lights are blinding me and I must get a brighter light.
As I plodded on, my eyes either adjusted to the darkness or my ego wouldn’t let the 75-year-old woman who just passed me show me up. I finally mounted my bike again. And before I knew it, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel ... literally.
Thanks to the encouragement of my husband, I emerged into sunlight to the soothing sight and sound of a waterfall.
The next 13 miles, metaphorically speaking, was all downhill compared to what I’d already been through. My perseverance was treated to an exhilarating cruise, riding through nine tunnels and across seven high trestles with some of the most spectacular scenery around.
Equipped with a much brighter light, I’ve been back to the Hiawatha nearly a dozen times and look forward to my next trip.
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Contact Community Editor Tammy Malgesini at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.
