A Triumph over the Switchbacks

Anyone who has ever visited Holden Village is familiar with this sign. It is posted beside the road on the way down to Lake Chelan at the beginning of what everyone refers to (sometimes ominously) as "The Switchbacks," a rather longish series of hairpin turns that allow the traveler to negotiate the rather steep ascent...or descent, as the case may be...of an altitude gain...or loss...of approximately 1,000 feet in a relatively short distance...about 2 miles. The remainder of the altitude change of 1,000 feet is spread out over the remainder of the 10 miles coming to or going from the village itself.

Some weeks ago, three of us (Gail Johnson, Debi Gustafson, and I) had ridden our bicycles to the lake, but we had lost our nerve (we had planned it that way) and rode down only as far as the start of the switchbacks and got aboard the oncoming bus there, putting our bicycles aboard also, for the remainder of the journey down to the lake. But even though we have heard our share of horror stories of over-the-handle-bars accidents and broken arms and legs and hideous scrapes and cuts from landing in the gravel of the road, we always felt we could ride down the entire way, switchbacks included, and get back in one piece.

Yesterday was the day, and we are back in one piece. Debi had to work, but Gail and I made the trek. I fear that we may never again use our hands properly. They do not seem to want to come out of the grip position! There are other noticeable aches and assorted pains that I am much too proper to mention here in a public space. We will recover from the abuse of our bodies, but I am not sure that our bicycle brakes will ever be the same. There were many moments of fear on my part when I was applying as much squeeze to the brakes as I possibly could...I was slowed down (somewhat) but the bicycle was in the grips of gravity and it was not stopping!


Just "out of the gates," as they say in horse racing, we rounded a curve and what should we see but a mama bear and her cub...worst possible combination. They proceeded to let us know that they owned the road, not us, and that they would get off of it in their own good time. This natural territorial instinct exhibited by the bears allowed us to cave in to our own natural instincts...stop the bikes, grab the camera out of the backpack, and take a photograph! of what might turn around and attack you at any minute!


The intrepid Gail, shown here demonstrating her own natural instincts of taking a photograph, began immediately to resume her descent down the mountain as soon as the bears left the side of the road and disappeared into the brush. I thought it prudent to wait at least half a minute to be sure they were indeed gone into the woods. Staying where I was, I watched in horror as a great noise and a great cloud of dust rose from the spot where the bears had left the road..the very same spot Gail was just passing. I thought for sure that they were coming back up on the road to attack her for disturbing their Sunday afternoon stroll and that I was going to have to be the witness to said event...perhaps just before they turned on me. But such was not the case. She says that they were afraid of her and that they were just going deeper into the woods. Listen to me...she is from Dallas, Texas which, perhaps, explains the bravado. It does nothing to convince me that she knows much about bears in the great forest!



Continuing on down the road, we passed through this lovely stretch of sun and shade. When I stopped to take a picture, I found it to be amazingly quiet. There was absolutely no sound at all except for the occasional sound of a bird. Such peace and such quiet is very hard to come by outside this wilderness, and I stood for a few minutes enjoying it.















Many of you remember the forest fire that threatened Holden last summer, threatened to the extent that both the guests and the staff members (all but 20..."The Left-Behinds") had to be evacuated. This is a picture taken from the road, and it shows that the fire came all the way to the road's edge. You can get an idea of what "the burn area" looks like today. In my opinion, it is quite beautiful, in its own way. There is a wonderful combination of colors...black, a deep rust-red color, gray, and of course, green where the plant life has started to emerge. The scene is a bit other-worldly.

This spectacular view of Lake Chelan is one that (if you happen to be lucky enough to be sitting on the right-hand side of the bus going up the mountain or the left-hand side of the bus coming down the mountain) you see briefly from one of the switchbacks...while you are simultaneously listening to the grinding of the gears, worrying about the functionality of the brakes, and wondering how much sleep the driver had the night before. If you are on a bicycle and if you can manage to get your bicycle to halt its race to the bottom, you can enjoy the view as long as you wish...and take a picture. This view is looking toward the very end of the lake and the resort of Stehekin, about another 30 minutes uplake from the Holden dock at Lucerne.

We would continue down to the dock and take the Lady of the Lake on to Stehekin. Our bicycles, with their partially melted brakes, would be taken back to the village on the luggage truck, and we would take the last bus up the mountain and up the switchbacks upon our return from Stehekin. Some things are possible and some things are not. We have learned that riding the switchbacks down is possible. Riding the switchbacks up is not an option.

Window box at The House That Jack Built in Stehekin.