"That's your damn sarcasm again! Matt, you haven't changed at all!"

At 4:30 AM, I was already rearing to leave Okanogan and tackle the damn mountain. Yesterday, after eating a meal that was far too violent for physical activity, my mindset went to shit. I didn't want to ride the damn mountain and Josh didn't care. So, we stayed another evening, in a motel, and the Pirates were on, and they won. That was a solid win to see with the playoffs on the horizon and it helped quiet my squirrelly nature. However, as the night crept over town, I wanted to sleep so I could finally flee the damn neighborhood.

Finally, my alarm signaled to me that the sun was coming up. At 6:45, I rose out of bed, opened the front door and made sure I could see that pinkish orange gleam outlining the hilltops. At 6:55, I was gone. I figured the pizza from the night before would be enough for the climb. Eh, kinda was, kinda wasn't.

The climb began immediatelly. The third of four passes left on the trip. Sherman Pass was the longest, a 4,000 ft. ascent up the colorful jungle of pines. There were no real "viewpoints" or overlooks, the forest had too much of a hold on the road. The next day after Sherman was Wauconda, a slightly easier 2,000 ft. climb through a much drier climate. And after a few days, we now have the third pass known as Loupe Loupe, a 3,000 ft. ascension to 4,020 ft.

It started out difficult. Beads of pizza sweat dribbled out from all pores, spilling upon the cold pavement. The first eight miles or so were steep and through neighborhood farms and ranches.

That said, the trees eventually began enclosing together, and the houses/farms dissapeared. We were back in the thick of the Okanogan National Forest. Thick may be a poor word to use though because there weren't many trees left.

In July of this year, Washington dealt with the worst wildfires since the early 1900's. There were two fires I learned about by Sherman Pass that were really bad. One in 2008 that burned about 30,000 acres and one in 1929 that burned 120,000 acres. This most recent fire consumed over 300,000 acres, including much of today's barren forest that we rode through.

At the top of Loupe Loupe Pass, the descent began. Around one green bend, you were met with the entire burnt out landscape that had previously been a forest. A scorched earth with black sticks standing perfectly straight in the ashy snow. Dashes of red splayed on some trees that appeared to have somehow avoided the flames. It was a surreal experience cycling through this apocalypse.

At the bottom was the tourist town of Wisp, generating money off people coming to visit the nearby National Cascades Park. 15 miles west of Twisp is Winthrop. Both towns had evacuation warnings and their electricity shut off. It was on the way to Winthrop we met Troy. A bald, athletic guy in his forties cycling in spandex. He was cool though, had an accent any South Jersian might feel comfortable around.

"All over here on your left was a separate fire. This was started out by a guy's exhaust pipe. Luckily, we already had the fireman here for the inferno. Originally, those were three separate fires all caused by lightning strikes. It was the perfect conditions with the wind though, and they all met up," Troy gushed alongside us.

"Yeah, it reall-", he was cut off from. Corvette beaping at him. "Hey, fuck off!" 

he screamed, flipping the bird at the passing vehicle. "Sorry about that," he apologized to us.

"Nah man," Josh said, "I feel like doing that several times a day."

Troy left us in the town of Winthrop, his home, describing the place as a real "cowboy town." It really was something out of the old west.

Our goal was to get eight miles up Washington Pass and then turn in for the night then conquer it the next morning. However, on the beautiful ride from Winthrop to Mazama, we came across a sign.

"Bicycle Camping", it read. We followed the signs up to an empty driveway. "Please camp beyond the barn". And so we did. It's supposed to rain pretty heavily tomorrow and seeing as the owners haven't appeared, (we e-mailed and called) we're setting up shop. Since we've set up camp and hauled up in the barn...

A man named Ben from Switzerland is also here for the evening. He's hidden behind in a rugged blonde beard, a small blue cap, and shorty shorts. He started hiking in New Mexico, followed a trail to Glacier Park, and then found a bike, which he has since cycled by us. Since April 15.