After following the Columbia River for several hundred miles, I stopped to visit my friends Doug and Janet in Trout Lake, WA. It was always great to see them. Doug and I go back forty years on the vocal jazz education trail teaching thousands of choral directors to be better jazz musicians. I visited them several years ago on my way to Alaska. Doug had previously warned me about the Hood River Bridge knowing that I was on the Oregon side of the Columbia River and needed to cross into Washington State. For this trip he also reminded me. I have crossed many bridges on my adventures but none like this. It is an old-school, veeeeery-long, metal-decked bridge. There are metal-decked bridges on the way to Alaska but are not as old as this one with deep grooves between the parallel metal guides. This bridge is frightening to cross. Because of the wear of the decking, the bike tires dip into the grooves of the bridge and it attempts to take you where you may not want to go. If you go slow, the narrow bridge can throw you into on-coming traffic. Knowing I had to cross this bridge, I watched all of the bike videos on metal-decked bridges. The key was to go faster than you think you should. After paying my toll, I waited for previous traffic to get way ahead of me. Instead of going twenty mph, I cranked up to thirty-five. The bike floated above the grooves, squirreled all over the lane, and with my sphincter in my throat and my heart pounding, I eventually reach pavement.
Leaving Trout Lake on my way to the Oregon Coast, this bridge experience was so troubling I chose to ride sixty-five miles of twisty-turny on the Washington side of the Columbia River rather than cross the bridge to the Oregon side and cruise on straight freeway.
