The rest was much needed. My knee didn't hurt at all anymore and in fact wouldn't for the rest of the trip. Just outside of Lowell was an imposing road sign. "No services next 60 miles." There were small campsites along the way. All with gorgeous views of the clear clear Clearwater River.There were many Kayakers enjoying the rapid flowing water.

At about 30 miles uproad, at the natural salt lick, the Veterans Society had put up a rest stop, consisting of a mobile coffee shop. It was much appreciated.

Although we hadn't seen cyclists since the twenty sixth, and before that since our first day, we met three groups going coast to coast today. One, a young Europian couple with a trailer each moving steadily along. Another, a retired Europian couple, very friendly, looking as strong as oxen moving rapidly. A third, solo cyclist, moving really quickly. We were making good time by now, but these people were flying.

At the Historic Ranger station we stopped and tried not to share our lunch with the Ground Squirrels that mobbed us. We learned all about fighting fires in the days before cars, highways, or even good wells. Life at the turn of the century, isolated on top of these mountains must have been very hard. The burnt out areas of wood we would occasionally come to filled us with new awe.

We finally reached mileposts 142 and 152 today. We spent a good deal of time hanging out in the pristine hot springs. They felt great.

We wanted to get to the Lochsa Lodge, where we knew the rest of the tourists were staying, but made it only to a primitive campsite. The water was not working here, but we had the best time. The wild roses in the woods were blooming. The water was extremely clear. There was plenty of deadfall to make a campfire with. And the huckleberries were fully ripe. We scavenged all of this, guided by the friendly campers we met there, and in the morning made huckleberry pancakes. We talked at length with some of the campers who gave us sodas.