Ride Across Washington
A sometimes delightful, sometimes grueling ride across Washington State.
May 18 - 24, 2025 -- compiled by Jeff DePree
featured on jeffdepree.com
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A sometimes delightful, sometimes grueling ride across Washington State.
May 18 - 24, 2025 -- compiled by Jeff DePree
featured on jeffdepree.com
(If you've never heard of bikepacking, this video offers an excellent summary: www.instagram.com/reel/DKJzRIDMQZ3/ )
Jess messaged me back in March to see if I’d be interested in joining the grand depart for the Cross Washington Mountain Bike Route (crosswashington.weebly.com/). Having spent many an hour pouring over the Bikepacking.com events calendar (bikepacking.com/events/) and dreaming of one day doing one (or all) of the events within, I was thrilled that she was willing to take the initiative and do all the research that I would likely never do. I had never attempted a bikepacking trip lasting more than a single night, and was generally terrified of the idea, but was more than happy to rely on her confidence and expertise.
My Frontier GoWild pass meant that I could get to Seattle for $16. Packing a bike, however, would still be an expensive ordeal, so I opted for my usual approach of finding one upon arrival. As luck would have it, my cousin had recently found a seemingly suitable hybrid in a dumpster, and after getting a few spokes repaired, it was ready for a test run. I tried the 50-mile Lake Washington Loop and eventually managed to snap another spoke. So we threw out that wheel, bought a new one, installed a rack, and generally turned my bike into the very best version of itself. Fortunately for me, Jess is quite proficient at repairing bikes, and I thus wasn’t forced to hobble through the trip with one working brake and only a fraction of my gears.
Jess’s partner, Jake, was too busy with grad school to spend a few weeks crossing the state, but he very generously drove us all the way over to La Push. We made it for the 4pm meeting, where most of the ride’s 77 participants gathered to hear the course creator, Troy, wax poetic about how we would soon be cursing his name, and to receive our free packets of butt cream from the ride’s generous sponsor, Chamois Butt’r.
www.strava.com/activities/14524892238
After an evening at a brewery in the town where Twilight was set, we found a quiet spot in the forest to rest up for an early morning start. The full crew wrangled their heavily-laden bikes over driftwood logs to dip our tires in the ocean, only to return them to the parking lot for a 7am roll-out. The ride began with a delightful 23 miles along gently rolling forest roads, before abruptly shifting to an uphill slog, which was in turn followed by a treacherous, muddy descent. This brought us to the Olympic Discovery Trail and our first instance of trail magic.
One of my favorite parts of this ride was the incredible enthusiasm conveyed by riders who had been involved year after year, as well as friends and family, and random fans who seemed to have no connection whatsoever. When we least expected it, a table or cooler would appear before us, and offer copious quantities of protein bars, water, and Fireball shots – though we never sampled the latter. These surprise snack caches supplied many of our calories for the first few days, and those attending provided plenty of useful tidbits for negotiating the obstacles that awaited us.
The ODT is one of the more enjoyable bike routes I’ve ridden. A long stretch of paved trail eventually gave way to thirty miles of singletrack. This was incredibly fun, but thoroughly tired us out, and we set up camp two miles from the end in a lovely glen beside a babbling brook.
Jess messaged me back in March to see if I’d be interested in joining the grand depart for the Cross Washington Mountain Bike Route (crosswashington.weebly.com/). Having spent many an hour pouring over the Bikepacking.com events calendar (bikepacking.com/events/) and dreaming of one day doing one (or all) of the events within, I was thrilled that she was willing to take the initiative and do all the research that I would likely never do. I had never attempted a bikepacking trip lasting more than a single night, and was generally terrified of the idea, but was more than happy to rely on her confidence and expertise.
My Frontier GoWild pass meant that I could get to Seattle for $16. Packing a bike, however, would still be an expensive ordeal, so I opted for my usual approach of finding one upon arrival. As luck would have it, my cousin had recently found a seemingly suitable hybrid in a dumpster, and after getting a few spokes repaired, it was ready for a test run. I tried the 50-mile Lake Washington Loop and eventually managed to snap another spoke. So we threw out that wheel, bought a new one, installed a rack, and generally turned my bike into the very best version of itself. Fortunately for me, Jess is quite proficient at repairing bikes, and I thus wasn’t forced to hobble through the trip with one working brake and only a fraction of my gears.
Jess’s partner, Jake, was too busy with grad school to spend a few weeks crossing the state, but he very generously drove us all the way over to La Push. We made it for the 4pm meeting, where most of the ride’s 77 participants gathered to hear the course creator, Troy, wax poetic about how we would soon be cursing his name, and to receive our free packets of butt cream from the ride’s generous sponsor, Chamois Butt’r.
www.strava.com/activities/14524892238
After an evening at a brewery in the town where Twilight was set, we found a quiet spot in the forest to rest up for an early morning start. The full crew wrangled their heavily-laden bikes over driftwood logs to dip our tires in the ocean, only to return them to the parking lot for a 7am roll-out. The ride began with a delightful 23 miles along gently rolling forest roads, before abruptly shifting to an uphill slog, which was in turn followed by a treacherous, muddy descent. This brought us to the Olympic Discovery Trail and our first instance of trail magic.
One of my favorite parts of this ride was the incredible enthusiasm conveyed by riders who had been involved year after year, as well as friends and family, and random fans who seemed to have no connection whatsoever. When we least expected it, a table or cooler would appear before us, and offer copious quantities of protein bars, water, and Fireball shots – though we never sampled the latter. These surprise snack caches supplied many of our calories for the first few days, and those attending provided plenty of useful tidbits for negotiating the obstacles that awaited us.
The ODT is one of the more enjoyable bike routes I’ve ridden. A long stretch of paved trail eventually gave way to thirty miles of singletrack. This was incredibly fun, but thoroughly tired us out, and we set up camp two miles from the end in a lovely glen beside a babbling brook.
I think my cousin found this in a dumpster somewhere -- just had to replace the back wheel and add a rack.
77 participants -- apparently twice the size of last year's
Pre-ride swim was optional, but knocked an hour off your time.
Getting off the beach and to the start involved one of the worst bike-carries of the ride.
We encountered a surprising number of trail angels (and coolers hidden by trail angels), with an assortment of delectable snacks.
www.strava.com/activities/14535070573
We packed up camp and headed into Port Angeles to spend an hour at a delightful coffee shop, charging batteries and repairing my brakes. The first many miles were back on the ODT, and we would’ve done well to remain on this serene seaside track…
The XWA route is actually two routes: the Main and the Lite. In the beginning, we imagined that we wanted to stick to the Main, believing that this would be the more interesting and enjoyable of the two, perhaps with some additional climbing and more challenging terrain. This was certainly sometimes the case.
But what we found when we turned off the ODT on the second morning, could more accurately be described as needless suffering with no upside. Instead of a peaceful ramble along the coast under sunny skies, we turned inland for a terrible, rainy climb that lasted for most of the day. Before the final push, we determined we didn’t have enough time to get to the summit and back down the other side, so we bailed along an easy descent to the town of Quilcene.
In town, we met some of the other riders at Quillbilly’s Taproom, and discovered that the part we had skipped was actually horrendously technical singletrack that would have led us to ride late into the night. We cheered our luck and left to cook ramen at the town campground just down the street.
We packed up camp and headed into Port Angeles to spend an hour at a delightful coffee shop, charging batteries and repairing my brakes. The first many miles were back on the ODT, and we would’ve done well to remain on this serene seaside track…
The XWA route is actually two routes: the Main and the Lite. In the beginning, we imagined that we wanted to stick to the Main, believing that this would be the more interesting and enjoyable of the two, perhaps with some additional climbing and more challenging terrain. This was certainly sometimes the case.
But what we found when we turned off the ODT on the second morning, could more accurately be described as needless suffering with no upside. Instead of a peaceful ramble along the coast under sunny skies, we turned inland for a terrible, rainy climb that lasted for most of the day. Before the final push, we determined we didn’t have enough time to get to the summit and back down the other side, so we bailed along an easy descent to the town of Quilcene.
In town, we met some of the other riders at Quillbilly’s Taproom, and discovered that the part we had skipped was actually horrendously technical singletrack that would have led us to ride late into the night. We cheered our luck and left to cook ramen at the town campground just down the street.
www.strava.com/activities/14546090656
Jess doesn’t drink coffee, but I do. So I made sure it was our top priority to find it at the start of every day. I was very appreciative of her willingness to accommodate this addiction. Also her willingness to fix my brakes, which was a procedure required each of the first four mornings of the trip. But on day 3, there was conveniently a coffee box 200ft from our campsite. Washington is rife with coffee boxes.
Most of the day was spent in a variety of mountain bike parks. The first was an abandoned golf course that was rather overgrown and hard to navigate. The next two were quite flowy and enjoyable. A free ferry took us into Edmonds, and here we were met by a devoted fan on an e-bike who was especially impressed by my skinny tires and socks-and-sandals look.
Running out of time, we switched to the Lite route to cross Seattle. This was mostly on bike lanes on busy streets and was generally not all that pleasant. And it wasn’t helped by the fact that it poured for most of the distance, and thoroughly soaked every inch of our clothes.
When we arrived at Jess’s, we found that Jake had prepared a delicious feast of vegetarian enchiladas. We showered, washed our clothes, and made little effort to do anything else with the evening.
Jess doesn’t drink coffee, but I do. So I made sure it was our top priority to find it at the start of every day. I was very appreciative of her willingness to accommodate this addiction. Also her willingness to fix my brakes, which was a procedure required each of the first four mornings of the trip. But on day 3, there was conveniently a coffee box 200ft from our campsite. Washington is rife with coffee boxes.
Most of the day was spent in a variety of mountain bike parks. The first was an abandoned golf course that was rather overgrown and hard to navigate. The next two were quite flowy and enjoyable. A free ferry took us into Edmonds, and here we were met by a devoted fan on an e-bike who was especially impressed by my skinny tires and socks-and-sandals look.
Running out of time, we switched to the Lite route to cross Seattle. This was mostly on bike lanes on busy streets and was generally not all that pleasant. And it wasn’t helped by the fact that it poured for most of the distance, and thoroughly soaked every inch of our clothes.
When we arrived at Jess’s, we found that Jake had prepared a delicious feast of vegetarian enchiladas. We showered, washed our clothes, and made little effort to do anything else with the evening.
A free ferry carried us off the peninsula and into Edmonds.
www.strava.com/activities/14556649296
After effortlessly waking up at 5am, we restocked our food, made coffee, and repaired my brakes. An easy sequence of paved, riverside paths brought us to a hilly powerline trail, which was followed by lots of great singletrack. On the outskirts of an abandoned state park, we found a trail magic stand where two former-participants forced all manner of delicious snacks on us. Paved trails took us to Snoqualmie, and here we found two riders about to abandon a large helping of BBQ mac-n-cheese that served as a delicious first-dinner.
The remaining miles brought us onto the gravel Palouse to Cascades Trail, which at this point is still quite pleasant and offers loads of good camping options. We stopped at the first available site and had turned in well before the sun went down. We did poke our heads out to talk to a few fans that were biking through to converse with whichever riders they could find. Another guy from our group ended up arriving at midnight and cowboy camping under the outhouse awning.
After effortlessly waking up at 5am, we restocked our food, made coffee, and repaired my brakes. An easy sequence of paved, riverside paths brought us to a hilly powerline trail, which was followed by lots of great singletrack. On the outskirts of an abandoned state park, we found a trail magic stand where two former-participants forced all manner of delicious snacks on us. Paved trails took us to Snoqualmie, and here we found two riders about to abandon a large helping of BBQ mac-n-cheese that served as a delicious first-dinner.
The remaining miles brought us onto the gravel Palouse to Cascades Trail, which at this point is still quite pleasant and offers loads of good camping options. We stopped at the first available site and had turned in well before the sun went down. We did poke our heads out to talk to a few fans that were biking through to converse with whichever riders they could find. Another guy from our group ended up arriving at midnight and cowboy camping under the outhouse awning.
One of the more difficult obstacles we encountered
www.strava.com/activities/14566640490
After a few awkward encounters with our bathroom guest, we rode 30 miles to Cle Elum, where we stopped to consume much coffee and the world’s smallest breakfast burritos. On our way back to the trail, Jess discovered a disturbing bulge in her back tire, and so we rode 3 miles up another nearby rail trail to the town of Roslyn and the closest bike shop. An hour later, we were on our way to Ellensburg.
Once in town, we took turns grabbing random, discontinued and/or expired snacks at Grocery Outlet, then hopped over to a nearby college for a free food fest with sample plates and live music. We set our sights on a horse camp ten miles further out, but found little of interest there and opted to pitch camp right next to the trail above.
After a few awkward encounters with our bathroom guest, we rode 30 miles to Cle Elum, where we stopped to consume much coffee and the world’s smallest breakfast burritos. On our way back to the trail, Jess discovered a disturbing bulge in her back tire, and so we rode 3 miles up another nearby rail trail to the town of Roslyn and the closest bike shop. An hour later, we were on our way to Ellensburg.
Once in town, we took turns grabbing random, discontinued and/or expired snacks at Grocery Outlet, then hopped over to a nearby college for a free food fest with sample plates and live music. We set our sights on a horse camp ten miles further out, but found little of interest there and opted to pitch camp right next to the trail above.
Roslyn was a detour to fix an unnerving bulge in Jess's tire.
www.strava.com/activities/14580822364
We had opted not to tackle the storied Colockum Pass section, but to instead ride the railroad-grade Lite route along the Palouse. What we didn’t anticipate was that much of the trail through this section would consist of horrible, chunky gravel, as well as deep sand, that would slow our progress to a painful crawl, under a relentless sun.
By the time we arrived in Othello, all the coffee shops had closed, and we thus resorted to relaxing in the main park’s gazebo and making forays to a nearby McDonalds. Here, we met bikepackers coming from the other direction, who had long since given up on the trail and had resorted to riding nearby roads. Conveniently, they had just bought a quesadilla nearby, ate a third of it, and were prepared to gift the remainder to the next random strangers who stopped in.
We opted to ride thirty more miles, surfing fun, hilly roads late into the night. This was delightful. Our campsite for the night was a tent pad next to a war memorial in the tiny village of Ralston.
We had opted not to tackle the storied Colockum Pass section, but to instead ride the railroad-grade Lite route along the Palouse. What we didn’t anticipate was that much of the trail through this section would consist of horrible, chunky gravel, as well as deep sand, that would slow our progress to a painful crawl, under a relentless sun.
By the time we arrived in Othello, all the coffee shops had closed, and we thus resorted to relaxing in the main park’s gazebo and making forays to a nearby McDonalds. Here, we met bikepackers coming from the other direction, who had long since given up on the trail and had resorted to riding nearby roads. Conveniently, they had just bought a quesadilla nearby, ate a third of it, and were prepared to gift the remainder to the next random strangers who stopped in.
We opted to ride thirty more miles, surfing fun, hilly roads late into the night. This was delightful. Our campsite for the night was a tent pad next to a war memorial in the tiny village of Ralston.
www.strava.com/activities/14585879335
Ralston had curiously neglected to equip their campsite with any sort of bathroom and we began our day by riding up a quiet highway to a Maverik station in Ritzville. From there, we followed many miles of roads, both paved and gravel, to Rock Lake and managed to eke out the tiniest bit of shade for a lunch stop. Thirty more sunny miles brought us to Cheney, and a brewery that just happened to be celebrating their fifth anniversary, and was eagerly proffering free hot dogs and pint glasses upon everyone who walked in their door.
The rail trail to Spokane was all downhill and heavily shaded, and served as a welcome reprieve from the grind that had come before. We had hoped to reach the Idaho border, but as it was already nearing sundown, we asked Jake to meet us at the famous trash-eating mechanical goat. Since I had a flight at noon the next day, and we preferred sleeping in to getting up at 4, we decided this goat was the ultimate destination for our trip.
In the following hours, we would stay in dispersed camping, then grab pancakes at a diner, then I would be dropped off at the wonderfully empty Spokane International. Jake and Jess would drive back to Seattle the same day and return my still-functioning bike to my cousin’s garage. Later that day, I’d receive a free bib to Bolder Boulder, wake up at 4 the next morning to run it, and then immediately begin sifting through the Bikepacking calendar for my next adventure.
Special thanks to the amazing cast of characters, who through their knowledge, food, and boundless stoke, propelled us across the state. To my cousin, who hosted me before the ride and donated her trusty dumpster bike to the cause. And especially to Jake, who selflessly gave up two of his weekends to cross Washington twice, with bikes, supplies, and good vibes, and make our logistics a thousand times simpler.
Ralston had curiously neglected to equip their campsite with any sort of bathroom and we began our day by riding up a quiet highway to a Maverik station in Ritzville. From there, we followed many miles of roads, both paved and gravel, to Rock Lake and managed to eke out the tiniest bit of shade for a lunch stop. Thirty more sunny miles brought us to Cheney, and a brewery that just happened to be celebrating their fifth anniversary, and was eagerly proffering free hot dogs and pint glasses upon everyone who walked in their door.
The rail trail to Spokane was all downhill and heavily shaded, and served as a welcome reprieve from the grind that had come before. We had hoped to reach the Idaho border, but as it was already nearing sundown, we asked Jake to meet us at the famous trash-eating mechanical goat. Since I had a flight at noon the next day, and we preferred sleeping in to getting up at 4, we decided this goat was the ultimate destination for our trip.
In the following hours, we would stay in dispersed camping, then grab pancakes at a diner, then I would be dropped off at the wonderfully empty Spokane International. Jake and Jess would drive back to Seattle the same day and return my still-functioning bike to my cousin’s garage. Later that day, I’d receive a free bib to Bolder Boulder, wake up at 4 the next morning to run it, and then immediately begin sifting through the Bikepacking calendar for my next adventure.
Special thanks to the amazing cast of characters, who through their knowledge, food, and boundless stoke, propelled us across the state. To my cousin, who hosted me before the ride and donated her trusty dumpster bike to the cause. And especially to Jake, who selflessly gave up two of his weekends to cross Washington twice, with bikes, supplies, and good vibes, and make our logistics a thousand times simpler.
This magical trash-eating goat was the endpoint of our journey.
