We were back on I-90 soon after the gray dawn.

Horse droppings on the expressway? We took a closer look.

We dutifully watched for elk.

Crossing the roadway.

We didn’t see any.

Nor did we see the predicted rain or snow. Just a few drops. Less than a sprinkle.

The road gradually climbed, for miles and miles, into snow country.

At what looked like the top, we didn’t see a sign.

Jeffrey checked his phone’s compass/altimeter.

What goes up, must come down. We began the descent.

The road dropped for at least 10 miles; Jeffrey lost count. The cold rush of air penetrated Jeffrey’s four layers of clothing: shirt, down jacket, travel vest, rain jacket. We rolled fast, me in the bag, Jeffrey hyper vigilant and steering with a steel grip.

After a long while, the road flattened.

Although we didn’t feel unsafe on I-90, Jeffrey was frazzled by the roar of traffic. He saw a gap in the barbed wire lining the highway. We decided to try the Iron Horse Trail for today’s last leg.

The trail was built on the roadbed of the now-defunct Milwaukee Road (in operation 1847-1986).

It was slow and unpleasant to pedal on gravel.

But what a relief to be away from noisy motor traffic, alone with birds and animals too quick to photograph.

At South Cle Elum, we explored the remains of the historic railroad complex.

We stopped at a motel. Jeffrey chatted with the man at the desk. Raz, who prefers not to be photographed, is from Nepal. He won the diversity “green card” lottery and moved to the U.S. for the adventure. He came to Cle Elum because a friend offered him work. The scenery coincidentally reminds him of Nepal, although the Himalayas are higher.

Trace is from San Diego.

He flew up north to collect this van, which he’ll drive home and convert into a camper.

It’s part of his plan to bike the Continental Divide from Mexico to Canada. He’ll put a bed in the back of the van, with room underneath for bicycles.

What a nice guy! What a happy plan! We hope to see Trace on the road.