That's no campsite. No, it's the view from the balcony of a top-floor deluxe room in the Oxford Suites Hotel in downtown Spokane. But it's one of the very few area hotels that is right on The Centennial Trail. It turns out that if you want to spend the night adjacent to a trailhead for The Centennial Trail, you have only 2 options: a grim campsite at Nine Mile Recreation Area, or a riverfront hotel in Spokane.
Well.... I'd tried the first approach for 2 nights. So for Night #3, I elected the second approach: crisp white linens and a gorgeous view of the Spokane River downtown. My relocation meant that I could spend the morning of Day #3 completing the most compelling section of The Centennial Trail, from the outskirts of Spokane to the Idaho state line. 13+ miles of dedicated bikeway and fabulous viewscapes.
I snapped a few photos, including a self-portrait, a bucolic view of the most idyllic location ever for a picnic table, and a Stop-Action shot of young boys diving into the Spokane River from the 20ft clifftop of The Island. I spoke to one who wanted to know if I'd seen him jump. "Yes!" I assured him. "Very impressive."
I also rode about 3-4 miles with Don, a pleasant 40-something cyclist who had voiced his curiosity about my clown bike. He also freely voiced is immodest pride in his own vintage ('70s) Schwinn Le Tour. (I recalled how Brian Steen, my Palo Alto bicycle buddy, had raved about Schwinn road bikes of this era, before the quality of the company's bikes went downhill. The Le Tour was nearly as impressive as the ultra-collectible Paramount, said Brian. Yup. You guessed right. Brian rode a Paramount.) After Don got all talked out about his Le Tour, he boldly ventured into talking about The Work of The Lord. Oh, dear. Was I going to be listening to evangelical fervor all the way to the Idaho border? I don't think so. My sudden urge to photograph -- crawling insects, dandelions, rocks... anything(!) -- was my salvation. I dismounted. Don pedaled on. Praise the Lord.
Following my 26-mile R-T, I checked in to my hotel. I luxuriated in a long, hot shower. And then I ventured out in search of the reception clerk's recommendation for "Spokane's best burger & beer spot." A quick bike ride over a downtown bridge to the other side of the river brought me to the front door of Onions. Fully masked and hungry as can be, I ventured inside and was warmly greeted by a fully masked and fully figured (very round) hostess. Very cheerful. She seated me and gave me a menu. And there it was, right at the top of page 2: "America's Greatest Hamburger!" Hyperbole, perhaps? Far be it for me to quibble. Maybe not America's greatest. But fabulous food. Delicious. Certainly the best in Spokane.
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