 Discover Washington- Winthrop
Three Fingered Jack’s, 176 Riverside Ave./SR-20
Winthrop, WA 98862, 509-996-2411
www.3fingeredjacks.com Open 7am to 9 pm, 7 days a week
Closed on major holidays. Accepts Visa & M/C
From Three Fingered Jacks, south on SR-20 North on Old US-97
South on Eastside Winthrop-Twisp Rd. North on B&O Road
South on SR-20 West on SR-20
South on SR-153 North on SR-20
East on US-97 Distance: 103 miles; Time: 2.25 hours.
The strangers rode into town amidst the dust and heat of a steamy June afternoon. Their sweaty leather gear squeaked as they eased out of their saddles and secured their hot steeds at the wood rail in front of the saloon. Boots thudded hollowly over the creaky wood boardwalk planks which drew a narrow-eyed glare from the town Marshall, who slowly turned to where the sun glinted off of the five point star pinned to his chest; hand resting casually on the butt of his holstered six-shooter. The visitors pushed through the swinging half-doors at the entrance causing the patrons to cast furtive glances their way, whilst some talked in now hushed tones about...
This is not a page out of some 1800’s dime store novel, but a scene from June, 2006, the place; Winthrop, Washington. This “Old West” themed town lies at a pivotal intersection where SR-20 takes a serious turn west to send riders on a 100 mile journey over the North Cascades Pass with its breathtaking alpine beauty, often compared to the Alps of Europe. (See 12/05 issue of Friction Zone) These factors make Winthrop a very desirable tourist destination, especially for those on two wheels during the summer months, and just strolling through town on the raised board sidewalks among the old west style store fronts to gaze at the array of parked motorcycles is a pleasure in itself, made more so when slurping down some locally made huckleberry ice-cream.
Our “Saloon” from the intro is none other than Three Fingered Jack’s, named after the original owner, Jack Lemma, who as nicknames would have it possessed only three digits on one hand from when a moment of poor judgment ended his previous career as a meat cutter. Jack’s is primarily a family dining restaurant, but maintains the Saloon front to keep with the town’s theme. The menu is varied enough to frustrate the indecisive, and once you do make a selection try not to be in a big hurry as the establishment is almost always quite busy. The staff person who tended to our needs on this day appeared to be doing it all, from taking orders and making drinks, to heading back to the kitchen for ten minutes to make the meal for all we knew. She moved quite quickly and nimbly over the ancient looking wood plank floor, that like the four-inch thick wood slab tables are deeply layered in a glossy finish.
In time the order came sliding down the wooden monolith, a Turkey/Bacon/Swiss/Cheddar sandwich with a side of the soup de jour, Vegetable Beef Noodle. Hoping the food would help soak up the endlessly filled iced tea and water that were used in re-hydration, the concoction was attacked with vigor. An ample portion of sliced turkey, (but not enough bacon), lay between the sliced fromages and the accompanying sesame seeded hoagie bun. It was still quite good, however paled in comparison to the soup, one bite of which made me wish to have skipped the sandwich and trade for a large bowl of it. Huge chunks of carrot, mushrooms, celery, and prime rib swam among thick spiral noodles in a spicy base of heavy broth that coated each morsel. Though hot outside, the quite efficient A/C inside made the hot bowl a welcome lunch companion, and all too soon the spoon was scraping bottom and it was time to settle up with “Jack”. As the modern day equivalent of a twenty-dollar gold piece, I flipped the Visa card out for the waitress to inspect, it coming back with a mere $12.72 added to the balance and what appeared to be teeth marks on the corner. Hmmmm….
Well fed, the saddle tramps squint in the late afternoon sun as they mount up to hit the dusty trail. Heading south for 2 blocks, one needs to be cautious to make the jump across the flow of traffic and continue south along the Methow River on the Eastside Winthrop-Twisp road. A couple of 90 degree turns through town and you can open her up to brisk gallop past a few farms and businesses, then put the spurs to use and break into a dead run as the road, smooth and narrow, gracefully follows the bends of the river, lined with thick stands of Birch, Aspen, and Cottonwood. Refreshingly shaded by the steep terrain on either side, this playful jaunt soon ends as you slow for the town of Twisp and the turn south again onto SR-20/153.
Becoming somewhat straight, the route now allows time to reflect on the subtle beauty of the Okanogan Valley, while also keeping an eye out for “Bambi” and friends that have had a bit of a population explosion of late. The road is well cared for, and there is a dichotomy of sights as you see million dollar, multi-acre vacation ranch spreads neighboring run-down single wide trailers on small plots. Thankfully the pine tree coverage thickens to blot out more of the flatter landscape, and soon you find the road bending more often as you approach the block-long town of Carlton where it picks its path a bit closer to the Methow River again. This section of the river is quite popular for whitewater rafting excursions, so be wary of large groups gathered on the narrow shoulders of the road or of the rare but potentially deadly “Kayakus Unsecuredus” in your path.
Following the swift flowing river for a few more miles brings you to yet another tiny burg that shares the Methow moniker and also marks the point where the tarmac becomes more entertaining as it hugs the course of water cutting its way through farms, orchards, and open sagebrush fields. The delightful sojourn ends all too soon as the road tees to a stop at US-97 on the outskirts of the town of Pateros. Rein the steeds to the east now, sun at your back as you follow the flat, sluggish Columbia for a pace through Brewster, an apple packing paradise. Just past the local hospital watch for the small sign and arrow pointing north onto “Old” Hiway 97, for a somewhat mellow roll on good asphalt through tightly packed orchards and around a few sagebrush lined bends that follow the Okanogan River. Soon you will be asked by signs to slow down for the shady town of Malott, wherein reside the Malotians (Muh-Lo-Shuns) as they prefer to be called. The road that splits the town is B&O road, where a turn north sends you hurtling for 4 miles up a curvaceous hill side between more orchards and vineyards on light gray asphalt that blatantly bears the chemical stained contrast of the dribbles from heavy orchard machinery traffic, so keep an eye on the driveways and blind corners if you pick up the pace.
B&O ends at a tee with SR-20, giving you the nod to wheel in on a westerly heading over the 4000 foot summit of Loup Loup Pass, a nice ski destination if you find yourself with nothing to do over the winter. Named after the French word for wolf, (twice), those particular canines may have at one time been prevalent, but now the deer and free range bovines are the main concern. The wonderfully maintained asphalt will have you soon putting any werewolf worries to the back of your mind, as the road quickly gains elevation and tightens the radii as it zips by a few farmsteads. The thickening pine and fir covering starts to lean aggressively toward the narrowing channel of roadway as you approach a tight section of corners called “The Seven Devils”, an uphill chute that flips you back and forth while tightening up to 25 mph, named surely for the trouble they have caused untold numbers of travelers who have underestimated their speed or overestimated their skills.
Over the next few miles the dark asphalt ribbon with some sections of very black, new pavement relaxes to allow one to enjoy the rest of the trip to the summit in noticeably cooler air. Still, the forest is thick and the scent of pine pitch and pollen is so heavy at times as to be cloying in the tight confines of a full face helmet, though the size of some of the airborne insects make it a wise choice. As the ride begins to descend the western slope, a number of campground entrances and their associated traffic beckon a slower pace, though the road still bends nicely back and forth through the forest. Eventually the trees thin, yielding a more pastoral setting, yet the now tar snaked pavement continues to demand your focus as it serves up a few off camber quick 45’s to keep you awake. After only 17 miles of this and suddenly the carnival ride ends as you tee to a stop at SR-20/153 and you must head north, back through Twisp this time staying on SR-20 and slowing to a comfortable ”mosey” back into Winthrop. As with comedy, timing is everything, so if the hour allows this could be a good spot to knock the dust and bugs from the trail off, kick back and mull over the prospect of riding off into the sunset, across the North Cascades Pass of course, into yet further adventures. |
