Cycling the International Selkirk Loop

By Gail Newbold with Conner Newbold — “You tried to kill me!” I said angrily to my son as I got off my bike, legs shaking with fear. He is 32 and an avid cyclist. I am 70, my husband is 72, and we are novice cyclists. Yet here we were attempting a six-day road-bike trip on our own that started in Northern Idaho, crossed the Canadian border, and looped back. 

It was day one and I was afraid. We were riding on narrow, curving roads, most without shoulders. My fear escalated when we suddenly entered a town with traffic and stop lights—a scenario for which I was totally unprepared. What really sent me over the edge was when my son started crossing a heavily trafficked bridge in the car lane with me right behind. I pumped my pedals furiously, heart pounding, wondering bitterly why he hadn’t veered into the bike lane safely behind a barricade. “Because he doesn’t care if I die,” I thought.

We were thrilled when our son invited us to bike with him although we had no idea what lay ahead. The description sounded amazing: We’d be privy to the International Selkirk Loop’s spectacular scenery on a route designated by the U.S. Department of Transportation as one of the “Top 10 Scenic Destinations in the Northern Rockies.” Named “Best of the Roads” by Rand McNally Road Atlas and the “West’s Best Scenic Drive” by Sunset Magazine.

I wasn’t worried because we’d have our car and my husband Dave and I planned to take turns riding while Conner tackled all 402.6 miles and 20,822-foot elevation gain. Dave, however, is a worrier and spent the next eight months stewing over everything that could go wrong. In the end, the things we worried about never happened, and things that never occurred to us to worry about, happened.

Conner: I enjoy spending time with my parents. When they expressed interest in joining me, I didn’t pull any punches about what it would entail. I did my best to make it clear I wasn’t inviting them on a leisurely joyride. There would be steep climbs, long days, and hot sun. We’d ride on highway shoulders and would sometimes be far from water or medical facilities. To be honest, I was surprised when they enthusiastically accepted. In retrospect, I should have realized that no matter how much I tried to set expectations, they couldn’t fully grasp what was coming. They have bikes but aren’t cyclists.

The day before our ride, Dave barely slept from worrying. He’s a nervous traveler and hates feeling out of control. And this was nothing he’d ever done before. He did not feel prepared. He hadn’t trained enough. He worried about falling behind and losing Conner, even though our son was riding his traditional analog bike. He worried about using RideWithGPS. He was concerned about his clothes and what to carry on his bike. My biggest worry was getting hit by a car since 95% or more of the ride was on roads—which was the only worry NOT on Dave’s list.

Conner: I had vague fears that my parents didn’t entirely believe my determination to ride the entire route without assistance or understand how much effort and focus that would require. I knew I wouldn’t have spare energy to be perky and chatty and worried they’d be offended. To make matters worse, prior to the trip I’d been sick repeatedly and injured one of my knees, so this ride would test the limit of my fitness. I knew my dad’s fears about not keeping up were unfounded. If anything, I worried my pace might be too slow for his sag-wagon-, battery-assisted legs.

Day 1: Sandpoint, ID to Colville, WA – 104.2 miles, 5,009 elevation gain

Conner’s wife Kaeli drove us to Sandpoint City Beach Park where she and their baby Kate said good-bye on the shore of Lake Pend Oreille, Idaho’s largest and deepest lake, and fifth deepest in the US. I felt lucky to bike the first 25 miles since Dave wanted to save the 2,309-foot climb for himself and Conner. We started on a dedicated bike trail and rode across the lake on Long Bridge’s beautiful two-mile pedestrian-bike lane with breathtaking views of the water and forested hillsides. The air was cool and pungent with the scent of pine, and the scenery spectacular. I was filled with joy. That is, until we exited the bike path onto a narrow winding road alongside the lake and later by the Pend Oreille River.

This was my first experience road biking with no shoulder and I was nervous. I looped a mantra in my head: relax, have fun, focus, and be careful. Sometimes there were no cars but other times a terrifying barrage of massive trucks, boats, and motorhomes blasted by. Conner scheduled quick food and rest stops every 20 miles, so we enjoyed our first of many by a remote fire station eating peanut butter and bananas.

About five miles later, we reached the center of a busy town and crossed the bridge referenced above. Even though our next stop wasn’t for another four miles, Conner pulled into a parking lot and suggested Dave take a turn. My legs were shaking from fear and exertion, and I didn’t argue. It was a relief to take over as the sag wagon driver. Days into the journey, I realized biking was more fun than driving, but in the moment, I was grateful for a break to calm my nerves and enjoy the scenery. 

Our next stop was Mellany’s Bakery in Usk, WA, where we stuffed ourselves on luscious pastries and burgers. My fear escalated again watching Conner and Dave tackle the steep Flowery Trail Pass (elevation 4,046) in 95-degree heat at 3:15 pm after our food binge. There were 50 miles left to ride. I was relieved when they reached the peak where we took the requisite cheesy photos by the elevation signage. Relieved again when Dave got in the car, leaving Conner to blaze downhill alone. I averted my eyes as we passed, terrified he’d repeat the epic crash he’d had a year earlier that left him with a smashed helmet, three broken ribs, broken collarbone, and broken shoulder blade. A crash so bad the ER surgeon ordered extra brain scans, commenting on how it takes “a remarkable amount of force to break a scapula this way.”

Conner: Funny that my mom was so worried about us. I was completely unbothered. In fact, I was looking forward to going into the pain cave, as they say. What I didn’t like was having my dad drop me on the climb. There I was grinding it out in the heat, while he bopped by effortlessly on his e-bike, or so it seemed to me. I found out later he tried to keep his gears at a challenging level, and was working hard for his age and abilities. I was nervous about him descending with me and glad he opted not to. If I wrecked, I’d break a few bones. If my dad wrecked, he’d be gone. And I’d feel responsible. I love the descent on any ride, and had fun racing the car. I worked through my post-crash fears long before. Plus, my bike-wreck was on a muddy rutted canyon road. Riding on the smooth asphalt highway shoulder felt like flying.

When Conner arrived at the bottom only minutes after us, I knew his speed far surpassed my mom-comfort level. He and Dave biked the last 23 miles through farmland to our motel in Colville, one of Washington’s oldest cities, arriving at 8:30 pm in near dark. It was the longest and most grueling day of the ride with Conner netting 100 miles, Dave 64 and I 36. Conner was exhausted and announced he was retreating to his room to shower and eat pizza in bed. I wanted to hang out and deconstruct the day, so was a little disappointed. But didn’t say anything.

Conner: This was by far the hardest day of the ride, and I had zero energy to socialize over dinner with my parents. I felt bad as I snatched my much-needed, calorie-dense pizza and hid in my hotel room. 

We didn’t have time on this 103-mile day to explore the towns we rode through, but I recommend adding a day or two to explore charming Sandpoint. It has cute shops and restaurants, white sand beach, mountain views and more.

Day 2: Colville, WA to Rossland, BC (Canada) – 62.3 miles, 4,378 elevation gain

Once again, it was my turn to ride first and I was afraid. I’d been anxious all morning—probably PTSD from my panic the day before. I didn’t want the others to know what a chicken I was, so kept quiet. I knew I couldn’t back out after all our preparation and planning. I forced myself on the bike and within minutes, felt a wave of joy. The scenery was gorgeous and I was exhilarated.

Later that day, as I biked alongside the wide Columbia River, I had one of the top 10 experiences in my life. The surface of the water was like a painting, reflecting shadows, colors, clouds and mountains. I marveled at its beauty and felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. 

They say what goes up comes down, and so it did. The temperature soared to about 97 in the shade, and away from the river’s edge, the ride was an uphill grind. My feet were throbbing from pressing on the pedals and I was fatigued and thirsty. I didn’t have a Camelbak, which was a big mistake. Conner only wanted to stop every 20-miles—never in between whether for water, photos or peeing. I thought I might collapse. At 20 miles we took a long break in the shade. I was happy Conner enjoyed our sag wagon with lawn chair, ice water, and snacks because I knew he’d never cared about having one. He likes the challenge of riding unassisted. 

Conner: The day was hotter than expected and I could swear my shoes were filling up with sweat. It felt fantastic to find a spot in the shade, take my shoes off, drench myself with water, and chat for a while.

Dave finally got on his bike at 4:30 pm in 98-degree heat. His leg included a steep 12-mile climb before reaching Rossland. That night Conner asked what we thought about the trip. We both agreed it exceeded our expectations so far. We didn’t have time to explore Rossland, aka Canada’s Alpine City, before the sun set. It’s renowned for its mountain biking and scenic hikes. I enjoyed wandering the fascinating LeRoi Mine in the morning that produced phenomenal amounts of gold during its day.

Day 3: Rossland, BC to Nelson, BC – 75.3 miles, 5,071 elevation gain

It was 10 a.m. and Dave was chomping at the bit to get on his bike. Conner preferred a slower pace in the morning and was relaxing in his motel room. Dave got so frustrated he took off on his own for the first time. He was nervous because RideWithGPS wasn’t working and he was afraid of getting lost. (User error). When he arrived 20 miles later at our meeting point at the Nancy Greene Provincial Park, he was glowing with pride about riding solo and not getting lost. Meanwhile, I loved my beautiful hike by at the subalpine Nancy Greene Lake. Con showed up for a quick rest before he and Dave descended the mountain.

Conner:  All my previous rides were solo and without sag support, which means I’m essentially homeless in between hotels. So, I like taking advantage of my comfortable hotel room and conserving energy for the day ahead. I felt bad my dad was waiting on me, but also felt a mixture of relief and guilt when he took off. I didn’t know until later that riding alone proved to be such a boost for him.

Zuckerberg Island Heritage Park in Castlegar, BC was a fascinating place to stroll while awaiting my turn on the bike. Sixty years ago, Alexander Zuckerberg built a unique Russian Orthodox Chapel House on the heavily forested island with a variety of paths to explore. I wish we’d had time to enjoy Castlegar’s famous sculpture walk featuring 20 or more sculptures of various media, many on our route. Conner and I took off around 3:15 pm on a beautiful ride through a remote forest on a narrow curving road by Gibson Creek and Pass Creek. I thought for the hundredth time how we were completely at the mercy of cars, but they politely gave us a wide berth. 

I knew something was wrong when Con suddenly stopped. After 45 minutes of desperate calling, Dave finally reached one of us to say he was stranded by the side of the road. I’d taken off with both sets of car keys. He was highly frustrated and insisted Conner ride back immediately with his keys, thinking Conner would be faster. But that would have added 12 miles onto Con’s pedal-powered ride because of our mistake. I knew I needed to do it.

Up till then, I’d always followed closely behind Conner. He asked if I was nervous to ride alone. “No,” I said. “If I have problems and can’t reach one of you, the world is full of nice people who will help me.” RideWithGPS wasn’t going to direct me backwards, so Con made sure I knew the route and I took off.

Conner: I felt super guilty and worried about my mom but completely unwilling to help, I can’t lie. I didn’t want to add in an unanticipated 12 to 14 miles because someone forgot their keys. Not to mention, I had my nutrition all planned out in 10-minute chunks. 

The ride back was beautiful and I was fast. I tried not to feel bitter at myself or Dave about the situation. It was a mutual error. We’d both forgotten I had Dave’s keys. The silver lining was that like Dave, I discovered I loved riding on my own. Back at the car, I felt incredibly proud and empowered and often chose to ride alone after that.

As we raced to catch up with Con, we drove through an especially beautiful stretch of scenery by mountains, rivers, and dams. I desperately wished I was on my bike. When we finally spotted Conner, there were only about eight miles left to Nelson, BC. I savored every remaining mile, trying as always not to think about how fast cars were going and how vulnerable we were.

Conner: It really was an incredibly beautiful segment of the journey. I felt simultaneously happy to be riding alone as I’m used to, but sad my mom was missing it. She would have loved it.

I had hours to think during my days on the bike and didn’t listen to music or audiobooks. I liked feeling attuned to my surroundings, and viewed the lack of noise distraction as a challenge. I wondered if Conner sometimes felt he was babysitting us, as with the key snafu. And when he stopped to untangle the elastic on my saddle pack that came loose and wrapped itself around my spokes. But he was always outwardly very patient. I wondered why he didn’t want to talk during the quiet stretches. My feelings had been hurt when I tried and felt rejected. Not wanting to seem needy, I didn’t ask. Instead, I told myself he needed a lot of space and alone time.

Conner: I felt like my fitness level was just barely, barely enough to survive this ride, so slowing down to chat wasn’t really on my radar. Part of the joy of cycling for me is pushing myself hard and I wanted to stay in the zone mentally. 

Our VRBO was located at the top of a very steep hill, so I jumped in the car for that section. Con tackled it with his usual resolve, arriving hot, tired, and sweating.

Conner: Grinding up this 9% or 10% grade on a tiny canyon road to the VRBO at the end of a long day biking was an unexpected challenge. I arrived heaving from the exertion to see the VRBO hosts and my parents happily chatting, and I felt unaccountably furious.

Day 4: Rest Day, Nelson, BC

We enjoyed a relaxing day exploring beautiful Nelson, resting, doing laundry, and recovering from aching muscles, butts, necks, legs, shoulders, and hands. We especially enjoyed wandering the unique shops on Baker Street in its historic downtown, Gyro Park with incredible views of Kootenay Lake, Cottonwood Falls Park and Japanese Garden and sampling the pastries at two French bakeries. WACANID says many travelers refer to Nelson as a European Village and is renowned for its eclectic arts scene, restaurants, and wide variety of outdoor recreation like hiking, swimming, and the Ainsworth Hot Springs. 

Day 5: Nelson, BC to Creston, BC – 79.7 miles, 3,517 elevation gain

Conner and I biked the first 18-mile leg alongside an arm of Kootenay Lake on a 2-lane highway with traffic going at 60 km/hour. I tried to be vigilant about staying in the narrow strip between the cars and the edge of the road and only allowed myself glimpses of the lake. When we arrived intact at the Osprey Ferry, claimed to be the longest free ferry ride in the world, I felt exhilarated to be alive. We ate pastries from a bakery at the ferry landing in Balfour before boarding.

It was bright and sunny. I wandered to the front of the ferry where a woman said she and her husband from Kamloops, Canada, were on a 40th anniversary trip. I assumed Dave and Conner were enjoying some father-son talk time, but later discovered a biker from Austria held court during the entire crossing. He was 78, riding solo and probably lonely. Dave was disappointed, but Con enjoyed swapping stories with a veteran biker.

Conner: I especially enjoyed admiring his Pinarello Dogma.

The rest day in Nelson did everyone good and Conner and Dave were feeling strong. I worried because the next 25 miles off the ferry were on a remote scenic drive with no shoulder. It began with a short but steep climb before dropping back down into Crawford Bay. A variety of artisans selling their wares are located there. The scenery along the east shore of Kootenay Lake was stunning and I pulled over in the car to enjoy beaches and viewpoints. I later read claims that this section along the south arm of Kootenay Lake to Creston might be the most spectacular road-biking daytrip in Canada with its rolling hills, winding turns, and huge views across the water to snowcapped peaks.

We met up at The Glass House made from over 500,000 empty embalming fluid bottles. No time for the tour but we appreciated its quirkiness from the outside. Before reaching Creston, Con and Dave rode on a secondary highway into the valley floor with views of the Selkirk Mountains. Dave ended up doing 50 hard and hot miles that day. Conner did 78, and I only rode 18.

Creston felt like a forgotten town with a tiny main street and no touristy stores. We loved it and our lodging at the Uptowner Motel. I wandered funky little shops before they closed while Conner and Dave showered and rested. We pulled out the stops for our last night and had a fun sit-down dinner at Bayleaf Indian Fusion restaurant with some good talk time. 

Day 6: Creston, BC back to Sandpoint, ID (USA) – 81.1 miles, 2,847 elevation gain

Conner wanted a leisurely morning exploring Creston and I wanted to start biking while it was cool. I felt elated as I rode alone through forests, by mountains, alongside fields of hops grown for Budweiser, and across the US Canadian border. There was a bit of a climb south of the border, which meant some downhill on the other end. I gained so much confidence that I started allowing myself to go fast downhill. Never as fast as Conner. And only when I could see far ahead. I felt enormous gratitude to Conner for inviting us on his adventure, and Dave for hefting my bike in and out of the car. I dreamed about a future trip with all our adult children. We could be a peloton. 

Conner: An amusing thing about cycling with my dad involved his clothing. Before the trip, I tried to equip him with appropriate cycling gear – a bib, shorts, shoes, jersey, even mid-calf Italian cycling socks. He’s always been very clothing-conscious, and I figured he’d want to look the part of a cyclist. Somewhere between day two and three, I noticed certain elements of the kit disappearing. By the end of the trip, he was riding in basketball shorts, thick cotton underwear, gym shoes, and a heavyweight orange cotton tee (better to wipe his sweaty face with, he later explained). He seemed perfectly happy so I decided not to care. My mom did, however, since she’d help finance it. 

Bonners Ferry is a great place to stop for lunch and wander shops if you have time. I enjoyed my longest ride that day (42 miles). Dave rode the last 10 miles. Con finished the day at 80 miles or so, which included two stretches on Highway 95, a major thoroughfare for trucks that neither Dave nor I wanted anything to do with. One section was in a construction zone with orange cones that forced Conner onto the highway with cars at high speeds. I was terrified for him.

Dave and I celebrated the end of the ride with a delicious flight of ice cream from Panhandle Cone and Coffee in Sandpoint, then met Con in the parking lot where we began. We took congratulatory pictures by our bikes before driving to our son’s home in Hayden.

On the long drive back to Utah, I contemplated why I loved the trip so much:

• It was a completely new experience. 
• I loved being with my husband and son.
• I love nature and this was nature up-close and personal since my e-trike was low to the ground.
• I felt a huge sense of accomplishment and empowerment from doing things that were hard and scary, and at age 70: riding alone, biking on roads with no or small shoulders, and adjusting my gears to keep the ride challenging.
• I loved exploring new places every day.
• Conner’s intensity and determination to ride every mile as outlined in WACANID’s route added to my own sense of accomplishment though I didn’t bike anywhere near what he did.

Conner: It was a good time and I’m glad we did it. Counterintuitively, having my parents there made it more challenging, rather than less, even though we had a sag wagon, stopped often, and stayed at nicer places than the slums I would have booked. But there were many upsides that more than counterbalanced it – I loved seeing my parents fall in love with cycling and watching them revel in this unique experience. I loved how they pushed themselves so hard, and seeing how proud they were of themselves. It made me happy when I found out they bragged to all their friends about it. I would definitely go on another ride with them – but instead of trying to set their expectations properly, I would adjust my own. 

End Notes

• Route: https://www.WACANID.org/ (Washington-Canada-Idaho Ride) – We appreciated using the information provided online by this website but did not join its organized ride. The route follows the famous International Selkirk Loop (https://selkirkloop.org/maps/driving-map/) closely on the east side of the loop, but not the west. The loop is a 280-mile scenic drive that winds through the Selkirk Mountains, crossing international borders between the U.S. and Canada, making it the only National Scenic Byway in the US to do so, and offers stunning views of lakes, forests, charming towns, and wildlife along the way.
• Trip Length: 6 days including a one-day layover
• Mileage:  402.6 miles and 20,822-foot elevation gain
• Food/water tips from Conner: Eat a ton of carbs all day and at dinner. Be sure to pack enough water for the long legs if you’re going in the hot months. It gets surprisingly hot and dry for a route so far north. The WACANID route is pretty good about including regular stops in towns with gas stations and c-stores, so you can usually pack light and restock as you go. But many are small towns so it’s worth checking to see if businesses are open on weekends/Sundays/random Canadian holidays/whatever. I’ve had scary situations with this in the past.
• Problem areas: Biking on US Hwy 95, especially in the construction zone, was by far the worst section of the route. Traffic was heavy and shoulders were slim. Definitely not recommended for beginners.