Nothing quite like the 80-degree days in Arizona, especially when it's 30 degrees in North Idaho.

And especially when you want to go for a bike ride.

Which Kathy Saugen-Erickson most definitely does.

The Coeur d'Alene woman and snowbird prefers two-wheeled travel on days she's not venturing too far from her single-wide trailer, when she just wants to roll out and ride like the wind. Or the breeze.

"It feels good to be out there," she said during a phone interview.

Even at the age of 86, cycling comes naturally to Saugen-Erickson. Keeps her sharp, young at heart, along with body, mind and soul.

The ardent cyclist has covered thousands upon thousands of miles over the course of her career.

She was a gold and silver medalist in the 2001 National Senior Olympics in Louisiana, a gold medalist in the Arizona 2006 Senior Olympics and a 2008 triathlete in bicycling in Hayden as part of a team effort.

She has pedaled on the San Juan Islands, the Canadian Gulf Islands, the Olympic peninsula, the Oregon coast, across Washington state to the Idaho border and Seattle to Portland.

She has covered the Route of the Hiawatha, the Trail of the Coeur d'Alenes and the Centennial Trail.

There is one biking adventure, though that stands alone. It is one that Saugen-Erickson remembers well, despite that journey being more than 30 years ago.

The trip started June 1, 1982, at Spokane's Riverfront Park. It wouldn't end until Aug. 11, 1982, in Knoxville, Tenn.

She jokes and explains it's hard to forget a time she and a friend cycled nearly 3,000 miles in a little more than two months.

"We had all sorts of interesting experiences in between," she said, laughing.

Their two-wheeled trip is chronicled in Saugen-Erickson's book - 10 years in the making - "Never Turn Back: Bicycling 2,850 Miles With No Support System."

What she also recalls about the trek, she said, were the doubters. Let's just say there were many.

"Nobody believed we'd ever make it."

Proved them wrong.

Ambassadors

Kathy Saugen-Erickson was a nurse who liked hiking, cross-country and downhill skiing, backpacking and bicycling. She and Ginny Monroe were friends and members of the Spokane Mountaineer. Monroe not only encouraged Saugen-Erickson to take on biking adventures, but offered to join her.

Following the Expo in Spokane in 1982, the pair had an idea. How about if they act as goodwill ambassadors of sorts and bicycle to the Knoxville Expo scheduled later that summer.

Sure, why not?

City officials gave them their blessing, not much else, and sent them on their way.

Kathy, an experienced cyclist, was 56, Ginny, a longtime runner, 49.

Kathy, on her 18-speed Centurion biker, Ginny on her 15-speed Raleigh.

"In 1982, those were good bikes," she said.

Note this, too: Saugen-Erickson and Monroe were on their own. No support crew. No one tracking their progress. No one monitoring their mileage. Hell, no one even knew where they were most days or where they stayed at night.

It was two ladies, two bikes, a whole lot of supplies often powered by prayer.

Their plan wasn't exactly detailed. No deadlines to meet.

"I'll tell you, we didn't plan ahead every day where we were going to stay that night," she said.

"If we wanted to go 20 miles, we went 20. If the weather was bad, we didn't go."

Sometimes they camped off road, in the woods. Sometimes in a barn. Sometimes, in the home of a guest. They pitched their tent, sometimes, within short distance of long-haul truckers and their fumes.

Ginny woke up one night, and feared they might be asphyxiated, and insisted they get out while they could.

But most days and nights, they had what she called guardian angels looking after them.

"A lot of people just offered to take care of us," she said.

There was that day in Missouri they heard gunshots. They ended up that night in a home, and asked their host if those gunshots were just by pranksters or someone really trying to scare them.

Quite real, the host told them.

"All we have in this part of the country is the real stuff," they were told.

That made for a sleepless night as they rose early the next morning and headed out - without waking their host.

"We were very nervous," she said.

They were also very resilient.

They pedaled in the rain, wind and heat.

There was no choice but to push onward.

The weather, she said, turned out to be one of many monster challenges.

There were "treacherous" thunderstorms that forced them to flee for shelter. Lightning, accompanied by rain and hail, flickered across a prairie and roared in without warning.

Humidity in the eastern United States, she said, was "really oppressive."

Some stretches of landscape they passed through - in Montana, Wyoming, Colorado - were "desolate."

"There were times we were scared to death," she said.

More Mishaps

Monroe suffered an infection from a mosquito bite that required antibiotics.

Both women battled blisters and heat exhaustion.

Surprisingly, fortunately too, they had few mechanical problems. A broken toe clip, a misplaced bike shoes, a few flat tires.

"The funny part is, neither of us knew much about fixing anything on a bike," she said.

They realized, as they went on, there was a flaw in their plan.

In those days, there were no cell phones.

"Nobody knew where we were," she said.

If they got in trouble, well, it wasn't a phone call away. Again, they would be on their own.

But they never lost their way - or their courage.

Their arrival in Knoxville, she said, capped their crazy journey.

"Nobody believed we'd ever make it, but we did," she said.

Back in the Inland Empire, they were greeted with cheers and hugs. Even their doubters came out.

"It was a wonderful welcome home," she said.

So how did they pull it off?

Kathy knows.

"No. 1, because there were a lot of people praying for us," she said. "I think that was very important."

And like a marriage, there was give and take between the two women. Communication. Compromise. You don't always agree, every day, on how far to go, where to stay. There were days Kathy wanted to rest, and Ginny wanted to push on. There were days Kathy pedaled fast, Ginny slow.

"We always kept going, no matter what," Saugon-Erickson said.

Ginny has since passed away, but Saugon-Erickson thinks of her often, and their decision to cycle 3,000 miles.

These days, she prefers to stick closer to home. A few miles is OK.

She laughs as she recounts a recent outing when her bike suffered a flat tire. Not the best situation, to be miles from the safety of her living room, pushing a bike, sun beating down. But no worries.

Sure enough, a good Samaritan soon pulled over and took care of that tire.

"Got to get you back on the road," said the Samaritan.

On the road again.

Saugon-Erickson knows something about that.