Overcoming Fear

A couple of years ago I attended a workshop on travel writing, which then segued into a group meeting to write a book with each member contributing a chapter, with the group leader being a well-known travel author. The subject was to be the Pacific Northwest, which was perfect for me as I cycle some of the rail trails in Washington State.

The previous year I had gone to the Iron Horse trail to ride it, but found out at the Snoqualmie Tunnel at the top, one needed a light in order to go through it. The tunnel is 2.5 miles long and gives one sensory deprivation it's so dark. No, I wasn't attempting that without a light.

With the book as motivation, I phoned the Washington Parks Board to find out if the tunnel was open, as they have humongous wooden doors that they close the tunnel off for the winter. I was advised that yes, the tunnel was just opened on May 2. Great! I phoned around to find out if anyone had a shuttle service they could drop me off at the top of the mountain. A local bike rental company was more than accommodating.

A day later, I loaded up my bike and camera and headed to down the I-9 and the back routes to Snoqualmie, stopping at Snoqualmie Falls on the way. The scenery on those back routes is absolutely stunning and a most enjoyable drive.

The following day, a Wednesday, the bike rental company loaded up my bike and dropped me off at the top of the mountain. Standing in the parking lot, it was a bit overwhelming, knowing I was completely alone, no cars or other people around, the peak of the mountain looming above me and the tunnel before me. Yeah, I was a little scared, but excited too. I knew there was only one way back, and that was to get on my bike and ride.

Fortunately, as I rode towards the tunnel, the parks board had just driven through the tunnel so I knew for a fact there were no bears in there. Approaching it, the last vestiges of snow lay in dirty white piles alongside the gravel trail, and a cold wind assaulted me before the tunnel was even visible, around a curve. From what I understand, even in the summer the tunnel is cold and it's advisable to wear a jacket.

Once in the tunnel, I turned on the bike light I'd purchased specifically for the occasion, a very bright LED light that lit enough area for me to cycle comfortably through the tunnel. My initial trepidation was replaced by the thrill of the journey, and by the time I reached the end of the tunnel, I was relaxed in my surroundings.

Exiting the tunnel, it was more obvious than at the beginning, exactly how much mountain was on top of it, with vistas of the surrounding area and the steep drop offs down the side. A brief break and back on my bike, but only for a short stint before glacier lilies caught my attention. White, pale pink and a deep burgundy colour lined the trails, adding colour to the mossy and forest greens that are prevalent.

My next challenge were the trestles that interrupted the gravel paths. A huge fear of heights had me in a cold sweat at the prospect of riding the first trestle, with the noise of traffic from the I-90 reaching up from a long way below. Riding onto the trestle, all I could focus on was getting across, and as my bike got bogged down in some heavy gravel, determination had me pushing hard to reach the other side.

Once across and my heart slowing to a normal pace, I was relieved that it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. The rest of the trestles became easier, to the point where I could actually stop mid-span and take photos. That was a major accomplishment for me, as my fear of heights as plagued me since I was very young.

I will continue the journey in another blog tomorrow, but suffice it to say that I can hardly wait to return to North Bend and ride the trail again. I'll go in June when the weather might be a little better, but it was the best ride I've taken.