I did the loop

 

Map Of The Legendary Cascade Loop

Coming out of the north Cascade highway 20 I had to do some serious maneuvering to avoid the parking lot that is I 5 and Seattle. Fortunately, highway 530 skirts the interstate at Arlington, bypasses Marysville, skirts Everett, and kicks you out of the major cities at Snohomish. Then it’s on to Monroe, and before you start climbing up to Stevens Pass, and the major ski resort there, you get to the best part of this side of the cascades, the town of Skykomish.

Now Skykomish would be cool enough just because of the Great Northern Railroads mascot “Rocky”

Great Northern's Rocky 

But Skykomish is home to Sky River Coffee, and that’s where I get my espresso beverage whenever I am in town.

The proper multi pierced, and tattooed Barista, new exactly what I wanted when I ordered a double Doppio

The Place For Coffee In Washington

She also convinced me I needed a scone or a  muffin. I elected for the muffin blueberries included. I settled into a chair to enjoy my beverage and listened to the assembled locals who had all the gossip on the double stacker that derailed, and how the containers were being picked up by trucks, even as they spoke. But besides all that, as if on cue my Barista went out, the front door stood for maybe a minute and then the Amtrack train came into view and as it was blowing its horn she was waving madly at the train and all the passengers. I thought that is something I would do, and who knew Amtrack ever ran on time.

Amtrak Blasting Through Town

Back on the road not much was happening at the huge Stevens Pass ski area. Guess they are waiting for snow., and this southern part of the loop is not as scenic and is more populated than the northern.

On my map I eyed Lake Wenatchee and turned off highway 2 onto a newly paved road and discovered another almost abandoned state park. This one did have a “On Duty Host” so I stopped into to ask about camping.

Smokie Lake Wenatchee

The little lady was nice and gave me a card with an 800 number to call.

I called the number and the message said that the wait would be 3 days 14 hours, 13 minutes, and 21 seconds, to talk to a human. 

There was also a web address on the card so I pulled that up and attempted to make a reservation, that was complicated  by not having my password book, forgetting my password, getting a link to reset my password, then creating a new password that contains a number a Uppercase letter and a pound sign # or something like that for good measure. And then starting over from the beginning after you have logged in using your new password.

Picnic Time 

This reservation system is also different in each state, and the National Parks have their own reservation.gov

The good thing about doing this is that so far everyplace I have stayed I have had a phone signal , and I like that, but it sure was easier when you pulled up to the park, and a human in the little gate house set it all up for you took your money, and told you not to break the rules.

Maybe someday amerikans will figure out that just  supporting the rich ain’t working out to good for us.

North Cascade Loop

 Years ago, I rode my motorbike with my traveling compadre to the sign on the western end of the Cascade loop highway. The goal was to take a picture of you, your motorbike, and a page out of a magazine, then send it via e mail to the motor company and they would send you a milestone of your accomplishment, in the post a small coin like medallion (that I still have) (but not with me))

The National Park

We should have kept going over the pass, but we didn’t. But today I am.

At Okanogan I pointed the van west on highway 20. I have spent a lot of time on highway 20 this trip and it has been worth it. I rolled through Twisp, a cute little town with an interesting name. At Winthrop was where the action was. The main street was closed off, and there was a classic car show in progress.  There was food, cooking, and traffic everywhere.

A Red Chevrolet From The 1960's

 I thought dang another place where I won’t be able to park a 21-foot van with a name. Low and behold there was a sign that read “RV PARKING” and an arrow showing the way, and even better I found the parking lot that is huge, and free to park.

I parked next to an older camper van and discovered that inside was a huge German Shepard that looked at me and barked once.  I later met this dog outside his van, after the owner’s other dog came up to my door hopped in, sat down and wanted to be petted. The Shepherd was so ferocious that unless you scratched his ears, and or gave him belly rubs, he would chomp on his tennis ball and not give it to you to throw in the river.

The dogs were fun, the cars shiny, and the taco’s tasty, but there were RV chores that needed done, including the filling of fresh water, the emptying of dirty water, and the washing of me and clothes, a commercial RV camp was needed and found, and when I asked if the price included a wash and fold. Apparently, it didn’t.

How Much More Smoke Makes It Extreme?

There are at least 3 fires burning nearby, but the road is open, so I start the climb to the pass, and soon discover that this is some rugged country with magnificent scenery.

8000 Foot Crater Mountain

The road offers numerous pullouts and viewpoints, most with picnic tables and outhouses. One of the more spectacular ones I stopped at was the Ross Lake overlook.

Ross Lake

Looking at the lake I thought that water is the same color as Kenai Lake, and Kenai is water from Glaciers. I didn’t realize until I looked it up that Washington is the second most glaciated state in amerika after alaska.

In Newhalem, a company town owned by Seattle City Light you are reminded that every drop of Water in Washington goes first to power generation then to agriculture.

Big Power Here

Just down the road is the North Cascades National Park visitor center, which let me know that the campgrounds are open and they are not very busy. Lots of camping spaces has been the theme of this trip. Maybe it the season, or maybe it’s the  almost $5.00 per gallon for petrol, and over that for Diesel in a lot of places  Eather way I’m down for no crowds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Border Shakedown

 

Well, I was pretty happy about having propane gas again. Not only do I have heat if I need it but being able to use my stove top and generator means I can do some dry camping, in more spectacular places than commercial RV parks.

Crow Picnic

I thought about going north to Banff National Park, but every time I have been there it is too busy for my liking. The option that appealed to me more was heading south back to amerika and doing the Cascade Loop.

Doing the northern part of the loop would take me to highway 20 and a section of road that I haven’t traveled.

I opted for the loop and pointed the van with a name south towards Washington.

Brakes Are Good Tires Are Fair Its Off To Washington

 I passed the legendary connector highway 97c at Peachland where Years ago the connector had been another leg in a very long day of motor bike riding, where one machine was having at the time cosmic, magical issues with running, that no dealer could fix. And when the issue was finally discovered, it was nothing more than a leak in a fuel supply line inside the tank, and no dealer had the part anyway.

The hotel was accommodating when I called and said we would be “late arriving” they said no problem we will leave the door open, and they did. The next morning at the hotel when I went to register, I was cursed at by a rather large gray parrot, who not only swore but imitated the sound of the phone ringing and sirens. The lady who owned the parrot got so drunk around the fire the next evening that she pissed all over herself and her tickle me Elmo jammies. No wonder that parrot had such a foul beak.

Elmo No Friend To Gray Parrots

But good memories of a rally at Penticton and then riding with locals through Vancouver at Mach 8 to get to the ferry to Victoria on time. We made it…

Before the border at Oliver, I thought I would stop for supplies, since everything is 13% off. I picked up the regular stuff, and then I noticed the chicken eggs. I thought it has been a couple of years since the nice lady at the border in Montana wanted my chicken eggs, and I thought eggs still can’t be a thing what with fascism, taking ahold,  abolishing the rule of law, and burning that dusty old document the Constitution. Why not. I picked up a dozen of primo brown Canadian  chicken eggs.

I rolled up to the border crossing at Orville Osoyoos and the first thing I noticed was that unlike the border crossing at Cascade, where I waited for the man in the station to turn the pull ahead lite from red to green, that this is a massive facility, resembling a military outpost or maybe a  outlet mall.

Orville Osoyoos Border Station

As you roll along to meet with the gunslinger border and customs agent you motor through a scanner large enough for semis, and you and if any passengers are exposed to who knows how many gamma rays of safe radiation.

At the window the gunslinger asked me the regular questions. Where are you coming from. “Me Canada” Where you are going. “Me Osoyoos Lake State Park” Why were you in Canada, and that question he answered himself. “Hanging out at the lake” “Yes, I said.” At the back door to the gunslingers hut another little man appeared I thought that my guy was going for a cigarette. But the integration continued. Do you have any guns (asked twice) I felt like saying you can’t bring most household guns into Canada, but I just said No. 

My gunslinger handed my passport to the little man at the back door and said follow him he has your passport. I did, and the little man led me out of the traffic and pulled me just to the side of the road. Not the place where they are going to shake you down but just off to the side.

The little man (gunslinger) said he wanted to look inside the van with a name. I said okey. I got out of the driver’s seat and opened the door for him.

Once inside he only had one question for me. “Do you have any eggs?” he didn’t specify chicken eggs, but I knew what he meant.

Being confronted by this little gunslinger was an unconfutable situation for me, but I kept my wits about me and answered you already know I do you saw them in the scan. 

This was not the answer that he was programed to receive. He marched over to my refrigerator, fumbled with the door, and grabbed my dozen eggs.

Then he started foaming at the mouth, telling me that I did not tell him that I had deadly contraband, but then I told him he knew I did, and he had the evidence in his hand, so just what is it you want?

Then he started off on he could fine me $300. For not telling him I had chicken eggs, then I told him he knew I had chicken eggs, and you have them in your hand, and just what is your point?

My lands this little gunslinger was offensive, but then I gave him the look that he read as I am not scaring her. I don’t think I could scare her over a dozen eggs or two dozen eggs, or the  two joints of marijuana  she had in her shoe the first time she crossed the border in the olden days. 

He changed his toon then and wanted to be my best pal, asking how I liked the van with a name. what I liked in my omelets.

I was glad to see the little egg sucker go, and I think I will start a tradition of every time coming back into amerika I will pick up a dozen , maybe  two dozen  chicken eggs just to make amerika greater. 

Serious Contraband At The Border

 

No Gas

 

Before we went to the Kootenai Swinging Bridge,  I noticed that the van with a name in spite of having a full tank of LP gas wasn’t letting any of it out. It wasn’t letting any gas get to the stove top or the generator.

No LP gas wasn’t really a issue for our run to the bridge as the van’s koffee equipment is electric, and we only needed the microwave for cooking. But I mainly use the van in the spring and fall, and heat is sometimes real important and the heat runs on LP gas.

No problem I thought. I looked up some RV repair places in Spokane, and since I have had pretty good luck with mobile repair guys I called RV Rescue.

Reminds Me Of Ghost Busters

The fellow arrived in a retired ambulances all kitted out for his work. He crawled right under the van without using a mat, or pad, and quickly found the issue. The coil for the gas valve had burned out.

The Broken Coil

He rummaged around in his portable shop for a bit, and then told me he didn’t have the part, his suppliers didn’t have the part, and he would look further and call me back. Which he never did. He charged me $50.00 for finding the issue and I thought that was fair and paid him in cold hard cash.

There are lots of RV shops in Spokane and I figured if I called a couple, I could have the part in no time at all.

The parts department at the big time Camping World were not sure that RV’s even used LP gas and if I wanted to talk to someone who knew something I could make a appointment for next week and have a conversation with them.

I called another place in Liberty Lakes Blue Compass, and those parts fellows knew what I was talking about and thought they might even have one. We loaded up and headed even deeper into eastern Washington. Those fellows looked and looked and pulled up a photo of the elusive coil, but alas they had none to sell.

This is ridiculous I thought and even tried to call the dealer I bought the van with a name from, but as expected the parts phone was a recording and leave a message. So, I did. “Hi I need a replacement coil for my fuel valve, part number and phone number, and please don’t call me back. They didn’t.

The closest dealer to me turned out to be in Kelowna, and after talking with them it seemed like the best place to go. I didn’t want to go to Seattle anyway.

Pointing The Way To RV Parts

The road to Kelowna is a pretty nice drive. The border crossing was a breeze, and soon I was looking for the button to put the van in Km, and cruising along at 90.

I stayed in an RV park along highway 3. They had everything I needed for 13% less. I even drained my nasty water tanks there.

Random Car Show Along The Way

In the morning, I set the GPS to the dealer’s address, and it took me right to it except it was across a major highway, and there was no left turn as instructed possible. Fortunately for me there was a Tim Hortons on the corner, and I made a bee line towards it. Rummaging around I even found enough Canadian change for the legendary Bismark and some coffee.

At the dealer the parts woman said she found the coil at a company over seas that they do not trade with. Desperate I asked, did you call the manufacturer of the van with a name?

No, they did not do that as that is high zoot and required special clearance from management.

The nice parts people suggested that I go around the block to the propane place and see if they could help. Well, I thought it’s closer than Saskatoon, the birthplace of the van with a name so I will give it a shot.

Champagne Don't Make Me Lazy Propane Is Making Me Crazy

The propane dealer looked at first glance as another dead end, but as soon as the fellow filled up the customers ahead of me, he pulled out of thin air it seemed the proper coil for the gas valve. He even let me install it on site and came over and checked to make sure it was working. Thanks Gas Man…