Holiday, Road.

I took a few days off here in Whitefish Montana. A bit of a holiday I guess. Ate a bunch of food, hung out with my nephews, got injured while white-water kayaking, and engraved some new ink into my arm : all ingredients in the recipe for a good holiday.

Now I’ve got a couple days left to get through the mountains before moving on to the almost endless plains of Eastern Montana and North Dakota. First up, Glacier National Park and the Going To The Sun Road (see my previous post on this) which will bring me up to an elevation of 6,664 feet in just 12 miles of riding, so I’ll probably average about 2-3 mph on the way up. Hopefully the cars behind me will appreciate the slow pace and take time to enjoy the spectacular view. The ride down should be lots of fun as well.

The next day I’ll push on to Cut Bank, which will mark the end of the mountains for me; I’m sure I’ll miss them after only a few days of the plains.

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Highway 93, you suck….

Day 4…. and my last day before a much needed day or two. I only had 60 miles to get to Whitefish Montana, where a potential hot tub, endless food and some rest awaited me. Predictably those 60 miles would be tougher than the near 100 mile days I had earlier.

First, my first formidable headwind. Have you ever had to pedal really hard to go 5 mph DOWNHILL? It’s annoying. The winds kept kicking up around each mountain turn, getting stronger and stronger until finally it starting raining; which wasn’t bad b/c I used it as an excuse to take a break under a roadside tree.

Second, the road itself was in horrible condition. We’re talking a 2 lane highway, with AT BEST a one foot shoulder covered in loose stone. Mainly, I’m actually riding in the lane, which is great for city riding, but not when logging trucks are flying past you at 80 mph. I seriously got a bit nervous, but with about 30 miles ago, Daisy pulls up, her bike unloaded, and she really saved the day. Two riders makes a world of difference, as motorists now realize they have to slow down, instead of trying to squeeze past just one rider. It was a great surprise, so thank you again Daisy.

Once in Whitefish I linked up with my family, ate a bunch of food and retired to the hot tub, where I’ve been ever since. In fact, after this blog, I’m going to eat and get back in. I’ll keep you posted on how that turns out.

Downtown Whitefish

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Eureka!

Day 3 was more heat and even more mountains. I’m really up north in the thick of the Rockies at this point. Plus a lovely 65 mile stretch without any facilities. Needless to say thirst was a serious foe. So much so that I missed my end point looking for a place to fill water (the “towns” get small up here, the one I planned on staying has a population of 100, with no gas station or anything) and ended up in Eureka Montana, a town of 1000 near the Canadian border.

Montana at it’s best. Clear lakes and rivers. Back roads, few people, lots of wildlife, and of course huge mountains all around you. The Libby dam was impressive and the Kootenai wilderness is intense. A light breeze kept changing from headwind to tailwind on me. Can’t beat any of that with a baseball bat.

73 miles. 94 degrees. Peanut butter and banana burritos. Saw another bald eagle. Gil Scott Heron, Bob Marley and Grant Green kept me company like only they can.

Eureka is a nice place with nice people and a cool name. I checked in with the local fuzz and they let me camp in the town park. There I met two other solo bike tourists, Daisy and Brent. Daisy was just finishing up a 4 week trip from the Yukon in Canada, which is absolutely amazing considering the rugged territory. Brent was just starting out a mountain trail ride down to Mexico. Needless to say my trip – tho longer distance-wise – is pretty wimpy compared to them. Being the softcore cyclist in this situation was a nice dose a reality after months of folks thinking and telling me my tour is unbelievable.

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