In the morning we found out why the place was called Crowe Butte. The insessant raucous calling of these noisy beasts woke us up at an ungodly hour. I was in a bad mood until I realized that for once we could get on the road before noon.

We did our last miles of the gorge, which by now wasn't much of gorge. The countryside was more arid. In Patterson, we got onto 221 and headed directly north into the Washington wine country. We stopped immediately at Columbia Crest and took the tasting tour. I was at least as impressed by the irrigation as I was by the wine. This region gets seven inches of rain a year, and the vineyards were as green as any I've ever seen. We bought a small bottle of wine, cheese and crackers and had lunch on the grounds.

We felt great until we started riding again. It was so dry. The farms in this season were nothing but acres of parched dirt. The houses, like little irrigated oasis of denial - packed with lush trees in a desert. I got my first flat tire here and we ran out of water.

We took MacAbee Rd into Benton City. MacAbee falls off a cliff into the town via a loose stone road. It was tricky riding. The rough road and steep hill ended up improving Patti's technique a lot. After this skills workout she was suddenly able to ride no handed.

In Benton city, we stopped at an RV campground. This one was meant for longtime campers only. The amazingly sweet managers let us camp on the grass, turned off the sprinklers for us, and invited us into their home to watch a war movie, share bagel bites and, give us fresh cherries. The best part of the ride is meeting all the friendly people.