Startled to wake and find the moose still watching us and blocking the road, it was surreptitious that a pick-up idled its way up the hill and our moose sentinels scattered. With an even hotter day forecast, finally managing to start riding earlier was advantageous. Through the trees, we wound our way up noting the smoke was much thicker and breathing not always easy.

Three decent switchbacks further up the climb we came across this large day-shelter. Turns out it was there due to a snowmobile club – I don’t think they would have known if we’d slept there, but as it was a night under the stars with no biting insects was good.

A big fireplace, drying racks, and tables – it was quite a set-up.

Views for metres, scores of metres… Megan had been monitoring wildfire status online and we expected (hoped) we weren’t going to have to turn around.

An hour into the day’s riding we were at the top of the pass – we could see more smoke over the other side. The downhill came as a welcome change, until the road suddenly ended. A route was shown on the GPS, but it was much less obvious on the ground. Having just passed a Idaho fish & game officer, we turned back briefly and asked him if he knew what was ahead. He wasn’t sure, but had maps that showed something promising.

It was worth giving it a go, over turning around. Our progress slowed as it became apparent there had once been a decent road, but it had been ripped up and destroyed. It wasn’t just left to go back to nature, there were big hollows, rises – it was altogether slow riding, when we could ride. Thankfully it was passable and, initially, mostly rideable.

The smoke was still thick and of some concern. But at altitude and the early hour, the day was not too hot yet.

Having dropped off the slopes, and crossed a sizeable stream (I’m glad at least the bridge was still standing well) we were on the valley floor following the water course out. Somewhere the ex-road deteriorated markedly and then disappeared into the undergrowth altogether. There was significant hike-a-bike – particularly when side-creeks came off the mountains and crossed our path.

At times the trail was only a line on our GPSs, definitely not to be seen on the ground.

Sometimes it was pick-a-path through boulder strewn creek beds, which was preferable to what became routine: landslips having taken the route out, we had to scramble down to the main river, pick our way over the rocks and water and then scramble back up.

Definitely adventure “riding”.

Fatigue started to set in for me, but we were in no rush – so plodding on worked.

Ten kilometres and dropping six hundred metres took us two hours – always wonderful to take longer going down a hill than up! We were well pleased to reach an actual road. Until we saw this…

Oh.

Short of water, we snuck past the barrier to top up, eat, drink and rest in some shade. We contemplated trying to sneak through, pleading ignorance if challenged (the fire wasn’t reported as being down to the road, yet) – but the heavy equipment we could hear nearby suggested that was not a good option. We found an alternative route that headed north and then west to the highway – I for one was very relieved we didn’t have to retrace our path up the hike-a-bike!

It worked out well (not knowing what terrain, and crackling fire, we missed) – another six hundred metre climb was manageable in the heat and rather enjoyable. The presence of a quality and proper gravel road certainly helped there.

Heading up the climb, looking back in the general direction from which we’d just come.

Then an absolutely wonder of a thousand metres to drop on the gravel, looking out over the valley, whizzing down, enjoying the wind rushing past.

So. Much. Fun.

Eventually we reached some small signs of inhabitation.

Down at the highway and cooking, we attempted to get to Lake Pend Orielle to cool off. Alas, private property all around.

With sufficient water and food taken on board, it was the highway around the shore towards Sandpoint. We didn’t last long on the highway, preferring a significantly longer route on quieter rural backroads. They were mercifully flat in the heat. Hitting the outskirts of a small conurbation, the first gas station found was raided for cold drinks and ice creams. Sitting in the shade, still melting (not just the ice creams) somewhere with air conditioning was found to escape the inevitable overnight heat.

Five kilometres on a mix of cycle path, quiet roads and then the nasty highway again took us into town. Sandpoint was a nice little town with some tasty eateries (we may have required two large dinners that night) and a nice vibe – I’d have liked to explore more, but was content to walk around a bit in the evening. The first night in town for a week led to mechanised washing of clothes and so on; unfortunately with the increased heat being at lower altitude, better sleep was had the previous night higher up under the stars.

Another fantastic day on this trip – by far the hottest and most challenging yet.