Day 3 (Ellensburg - Omak)

Too soon to be happy. After enjoying a pleasant 7-hour sleep last night, the jet lag wakes me up from my otherwise cozy bed at 4 am today. And no chance of falling back asleep. So I spend the time until breakfast reading, writing blog posts, and dozing off. The typical American breakfast consists of fresh waffles (the batter is even homemade, not like the usual processed ones), English muffin with Philadelphia cream cheese, and cereals. On my 4th stay here, my initial enthusiasm has faded a bit, but today is the first time I use the camping cutlery made of metal that I brought to avoid using plastic utensils. And behold: it tastes better.

The drive towards Canada starts with slightly hilly grasslands, followed by wooded mountain passes, and signs indicating ski resorts that can only be accessed with snow chains in winter. A long line of cars crawls up Highway 97, and numerous trucks make it impossible to drive faster than 50 mph. But this allows me to better enjoy the magnificent Teanaway Forest landscape.

At Wenatchee, I turn left to continue on Highway 97. The landscape opens up more, and I once again follow the Columbia River, which has made a bigger loop than I did. Sparse mountain ranges flank the river valley on both sides, and orchards line the river banks. Apples, cherries, and apricots are the main crops grown here, and the warm air indicates ideal growing conditions in this fertile area. Here again, I am part of a caravan, but with significantly fewer trucks, so the drive is a bit faster until the Beebe Bridge, where the river is crossed on an old iron bridge.

Afterward, I stop and take a walk through the Beebe Springs Wildlife Area, which bird enthusiasts would surely enjoy. However, I am a bit suspicious, even though there are no warnings about rattlesnakes here. Sometimes there are suspicious splashes in the standing water next to the narrow hiking trail. Since there is no one around, I cannot ask anyone, and it is only on the way back to the car that I meet a young angler who says there are no snakes here. He looks at me strangely, probably thinking my question was quite dumb.

The drive continues along the river, and it is truly beautiful, until I turn off Highway 97 at Brewster and continue north. The sparsely vegetated mountains are still visible in the background, but the river is now missing, and in the distance, you can see the first snow-covered peaks. However, it is still warm, almost 30 degrees Celsius, and I didn't expect it to be this hot. After all, Newfoundland is on the same latitude, and it is noticeably colder there (I looked it up - 16 degrees Celsius). Omak, my destination, has only about 5,000 inhabitants, and there are many Native Americans here. My motel is the "most retro" one I have ever come across, and the TV is a relic from the German Museum. It's not clean behind the bed either, as I discover when I plug in my adapter, but I will be sleeping on it, not behind it.

However, it is conveniently located in the downtown area, in Downtown Omak, and I go to the Breadline Cafe and treat myself to a beer and onion rings. There, Roger approaches me and perceives my accent as British-tinged. He is from Birmingham, UK, but has been living near Phoenix, Arizona, for 37 years and is also headed to Canada tomorrow - but much further north and a 10-hour ferry ride away. He used to work in the IT industry, and I ask him what brought him to Arizona. He says: the desert. After a very nice conversation about the Hindenburg, the Titanic, and other disasters, we wish each other a safe trip (sic!), and I say goodbye to my retro motel. I go to the vending machine and get 2 cans of root beer. Unrefrigerated. What else!