Rain, Rain, and More Rain

   It appeared to Albert, that as yet another storm passed through the night, a Pacific North-West weather pattern was forming. Rather the storms come through at night than during the day, he thought. This storm was the wildest so far, strong enough to down trees and knock out power for the entire town of Forks. Fortunately for Albert, he was able to spend the night in a small vacant cabin and as he slept, and of course dreamt, the storm raged and howled around him. In this night’s dream, Albert found himself under the spell of a bloodsucking character about to drain him of his life’s force, when suddenly to his defense came two wolves – one red, one white. Traversing time and space, Albert then found himself running with the two wolves along the banks of a remote mountain river, only to lose sight of them as they sped off into the distance, eventually taking flight and like the dream, faded away.

   Exhausted from yesterday’s ride, Albert slept hard and awoke late to the sound of rain pinging off of the small cabin’s tin roof. Heading out from town in a steady rain and with winds from the previous night’s storm still present, Albert envisioned a rough ride ahead. Before leaving town he had carbed-up with day-old pastries from Fork’s, now powerless, main street Twilight Bakery, and a hearty slice of home-baked strawberry and rhubarb pie, that Albert gathered, the farmer’s wife from the previous day must have slipped into one of his panniers, unnoticed.

   From Forks, the road headed south passed the Hoh rain forest and the scarry-looking ‘Hoh-Hum Bed & Breakfast’. Eventually, for the first time on Albert’s journey, the highway briefly visited the Pacific Ocean. Just before the reservation town of Kalaloch, Albert passed a young-lady cyclist, fully loaded with trailer-in-tow. She was only the second travelling cyclist he had seen in four days. The road from Kalaloch turned south-east and headed inland away from the ocean. Albert, again found himself climbing, and for a brief time, for the first time in five days, felt the wind on his back. With favorable winds and the rain holding back Albert found himself riding at a nice pace as he continued climbing in the direction of Lake Quinault, located in the foothills of the snowy Olympic mountain range.

   Favorable conditions weren’t to last long and soon the winds switched direction and the heavens opened, unleashing a torrential down-pour. Albert was okay with the rain, and relative to yesterday found the ride rather easy and to his liking. It wasn’t long before Albert’s most recent piece of yarn, lasting 68 miles, pulled him up in the small mountain community of Amanda Park, just shy of Lake Quinault, where behind a small general store, he made camp for the night.