Day 69: Like Castanets

I wake up at around 10:00am. Pack up my bags and head out the door to Whitefish. It's a pretty gray and overcast day. I get off Hwy 2 onto some back roads that turn to gravel.

I had read about this on other blogs, but found it to be pretty ride-able; I have no complaints. It starts to rain, and it's pretty cold. Luckily it's a short day. I ride into Columbia Falls and stop at... A BURGER KING... at long last!

The backroads between Columbia Falls and Whitefish are VERY SCENIC. I can't recommend this ride enough. It was a great day of riding.

As I rode into Whitefish, it started to hail... and I don't mean just large raindrops or little pellets of ice, but rather huge clusters that spilled from the sky, cracking against my helmet like castanets. Which brings me to something I've been worrying about lately:

This trip has turned from a fun summer jaunt into a race with Mother Nature to see if I can reach the coast before everything freezes for the winter. It's getting a bit ridiculous at this point:

Hail 5 straight days of snow in the Cascades Temperatures dropping below freezing most every night Rain predicted every day for the next week

So... I've been toying with the idea of chucking most of my gear (camping supplies included) and just staying in motels for the duration of the trip. Hear me out I've got housing already lined up for 6 of the remaining 13(?) days. So it's 7 days of motel-ing... now the thing to remember is that if I'm soaking wet or the temperature is below freezing, there's a good chance I'm gonna end up in a cheap motel anyways, right? so why not chuck some of the gear and make the ride a little more fun? So I'm asking: Am I just turning my back on my pledge to camp throughout the trip? Have I just gone soft? Am I justified? I'm gonna make my decision in the next couple of days, so any and all opinions are welcome.

I had time to kill, so I rode around town hitting up the thrift stores and pieced together rain/cold gear for under $30 (pants, jacket, facemask, hat). The Army/Navy store in Whitefish is incredible, and so is the sports store on 1st Ave Great prices, and used stuff too. I like this town a lot. Mom/Dad This is someplace you should consider moving to.

I am soaked and freezing, so I check into the Super 8 Motel. I watch MIAMI VICE and it's really bad. It makes me miss hanging out with my film snob friends talking shit about movies. Sigh... Oscar season is coming up... Lots of fodder for our smug condescension; Clint Eastwood and Paul Haggis... I'm looking your way.

I have a bad habit of confusing Montana with Washington. The change in scenery has me convinced I am already west of the Cascades, which is going to make for a few anti-climactic day when I actually do reach Western Washington. I keep trying to remind myself that I am still in Montana, but it's tough.

OK... So I'm really thinking about taking a day off in Whitefish tomorrow. I know, I know, I'm totally starting to get lazy in the last 2 week stretch to the coast. It's cool though. I'm real happy right now. I really am. It's been a great week.

Day 68: Going Part of the Way To The Sun

Matt takes off and I hang out at Lake McDonald for a bit while the sun rises from behind the mountains. A park ranger tells me that today is going to be MUCH nicer than tomorrow and that I should ride up Going to the Sun Rd today, rather than tomorrow. It's supposed to rain and get real cold tonight, so I decide on getting a cabin at KOA where I can drop off my stuff while I am riding today. The cabin is cute. A little expensive, but every price within 50 miles of this park is inflated to a nauseating degree (Except for the Backpackers Inn in East Glacier... What a great place, and its run by a cyclist!). On my way to the KOA, I see Matt on the side of the road... having some bike problems. I'm kinda useless in those situations but I keep him company nonetheless. Double-goodbyes are the worst, right?

Drop off my stuff, check my email, and head back to the park sans 40 lbs of stuff. I head up the road, and it's probably the most beautiful day I've seen in the last 2 weeks. Strange, for over a week they had been predicting that today was going to be a mess; a huge drop in temperatures and massive amounts of rain. I had scheduled my entire week around today, and here I am... a warm fall day as sunny as it could be.

The first 10 miles are beautiful but not much different than everything I've been seeing for the past 3 days. Once I get past Lake McDonald the sights start to get a little more interesting: Waterfalls, Creeks, Overlooks... etc.

It's great, but I am starting to worry that I might not get anything even close to the full Going to the Sun Experience. It gets better and better as it goes on, and then the road ends at 'Avalanche'. I have to admit I am a bit let down with the ride, until I notice that the road is only closed to cars... Hikers and Bikers can keep going. Accompanying this sign, is a pretty stark warning about bears; they'll attack without warning, provocation, there is no hope if you get attacked, etc. I get a bit freaked out. There will be no cars, and probably no other people up this road. Just me and Smokey (The Bear). I hate heights, bears and fish (anything alive underwater). There are others, but those are the big three at the moment. Really freaked out about the bears, though cognizant of how irrational it is.

I start up the road but after a mile my paranoia sends me back down to Avalanche. I sit around for a half hour and work up the courage to go back up. I keep telling myself how irrational I am acting, and eventually force myself to go back up. 'Fitter, Happier, More Productive...' I am loud and unconvincing if these were my actual affirmations. Eventually I calm down as I notice how the scenery has changed... My goodness... about 2 miles past Avalanche, it gets AMAZING. I can't even begin to describe how ridiculous the beauty is. There really are no words.

I am taking a picture when another cyclist speeds by me up the road. I catch up with him about 5 minutes later and we start talking. His name is Chris Wilson and I join him if only for the peace of mind that comes with being in a group. He says he's climbed this road over 50 times and that he's never seen it with so much fall color. We get to the part of the trail where we start having to do some serious climbing, and after about a mile, we hit the end. It's a little ways past Packers Roost, and I'm seriously debating just ignoring the signs and heading up until the road deteriorates. But I don't... I guess I'll just have to come back next year. The way back down is pretty fantastic. I want to stop every 10 feet and take a picture, but I'm enjoying the speed. Storm clouds are gathering over Lake McDonald and so I hurry back so as not to get stuck in the rain. Looking behind me, I see the GTTS RD as it winds its way up the face of that cliff; so treacherous; looks insane; I WILL come back to ride that.

Slowly, the scenery recedes back into a yellow leafy forest on the banks of the lake.

I say goodbye to Chris and get some food at the same diner I ate at last night. It's a bizarre feeling I have. I'm not sure how to explain it to others it's exhilarating and isolating. It's one of the more amazing experiences I've ever had. Damn I wish I could've done the whole thing.

It's raining on my way home. I get to the cabin, and listen to the rain on the wooden roof. I stay up to late trying to plan out the last 2 weeks of the trip. I get an email from John E. and apparently it's going to dump a lot of snow in the Cascades this next week. I might need to take the southern route through Washington. Damn.

I want to take a day off either tomorrow or the next day, and do a lot of nothing. A LOT of nothing.

Day 67: Fitter, Happier, More Productive...

Woke up early and didn't feel like getting anywhere near the bike; especially with the panniers back on. So I killed time by watching downloaded episodes of Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Season 3 is not holding up to the former glory of seasons 1 and 2. It's a bit disappointing. I ate a bunch of junk food, and drank a lot of bottled water I didn't want to carry with me today. Did I ever mention that the water in East Glacier can give you Giardia (sp?)? I also messed around with Photoshop CS3. Visiting Two Medicine was a good impetus to download and install it; those vistas demanded panoramic pictures. I have to give props to Mike Riscica (Sp?) of TNT2007 for the idea. I've taken so many cues from those guys and their excellent blog, I really need to thank them at some point, or buy them a Coke or something.

Around 9:30am I finally headed out the door and got moving west along Hwy 2. The climb was really not bad at all; not even really all that much of a climb. A little anti-climactic really... leave it to me to complain about it not being ENOUGH of a climb. The scenery was nice, but it just couldn't hold a candle to yesterday so I was rather conservative with my picture taking. I want my parents to see this place. I think they'd like it. When they move back to the states, they want to move to somewhere cool, and It'd be pretty great to visit this area for Christmas every year... not too likely though.


Wow... the other side of Marias pass is pretty stellar. There are a lot more Evergreens; it really feels like I've crossed the gateway into the Pacific Northwest. I love the smell, the moisture in the air and the views, which become pretty spectacular right after Marias Pass. The first 12 miles is all downhill, and I am flying I am a bird now; I am unstoppable; uncontrollable; untouchable; this is pretty mindblowing; the best riding of the trip surpasses yesterday (not in the view, but in the riding). Every mile gets more and more scenic. Giant walls of Evergreens unlike anything I have ever seen. The mountains in Utah are a joke, an afterthought. Today is a good day.

I stop for lunch in Essex and the meal is surprisingly good. I think I've passed through that phase where I got sick of food. I'm really digging the hamburger I got today. I ate quickly so I could get back out on the road. The crazy thing was that despite being at 5K feet, it was the warmest day I've seen in weeks. The day continued with a downward trend, though the downhills definitely mellowed. When I rolled out of the mountains and into West Glacier, I was craving more speed... maybe "velocity" would be a less confusing way to phrase that. I stopped at a Conoco and got a soda.

I entered the West Glacier Entrance of the park so I could get set up in the Apgar campground. There was a line of cars at the entrance gate, and when eventually it was my turn, I had my receipt/pass and ID ready for the ranger to inspect. He asked me where I was going and where I had come from, and he seemed impressed with my answers. I asked him about the camping fees and his reply was:

'I can't think of any other fees that YOU should have to pay'.

Wow. He accented YOU, and had a strange look on his face that seemed the subtle equivalent to a 'wink'. I could only assume he was 'waiving' my camping fee because he was so impressed with the quality of my character, or 'cut of my jib', to use the parlance of our times. And you know what... yeah... why not? Maybe I DO deserve free camping. This park ranger had such a keen insight into human nature that he could pick me out for the exemplary citizen that I am and determine that I was an asset to this community, and would bestow a certain legitimacy to this whole ramshackle affair they call a National Park. Unlike these other jerks, who drive their big fancy cars and hike with their big unwieldy backpacks, I manage to be bio-friendly whilst still possessing the good sense to know that hiking is just a dressed up term for 'walking around a while'. Yes... You are correct Mr. Aging Park Ranger. I can't think of any fees 'I' should have to pay either.

I roll into Apgar and Lake McDonald is just sitting there, front and center. I couldn't believe how amazing it looked, and also how little work it took to get there. I had seen pictures before, but assumed that this view had to be the reward for hours and hours of cycling. Nope it took 5 minutes to get there, and it's right next to the gift shop; simply amazing to look at.

I roll into the campground and ask the Camp Host, who is cleaning the roof of his RV, where the Hiker/Biker site is. He points it out (A10) and then instructs me to pay $5 at the self-register station. I take pause... Does he not realize who I am? Maybe if he came down from the roof of his RV, he would be able to see what an amazing specimen I am? Maybe his inability to see how deserving I am of free camping speaks more of his character than mine. How did this yahoo get to be a Camp Host? Clearly he lacks the insight of his aging counterpart at the entrance station. This guy is a menace. He's grown mad with his own power. Tyrant.

I begrudgingly pay the $5 like one of the common people, and the Camp Host's offer of free firewood does little to set things right between us. I set up my tent, shove the rest of my stuff in a bear-box, and go riding around on the bike trails they have in the park. The deer are fearless and stand in the middle of the trails staring at me as I pass within 2 feet of them.

The Glacier Bear Pamphlet recommends that you make noise on the trails to alert any possible bears of your presence. I haven't memorized too many things in my life, so I recite a little bit of the Gettysburg address, and a few LDS 'Articles of Faith' while I ride... but apparently in my old age, I no longer have a perfect mastery of those. It seems the only 'speech' I have memorized and retained is track 7 on OK Computer: 'Fitter Happier', which for those of you not familiar, is spoken by a 'text to speech program' (think Stephen Hawking) to produce an ominous effect.

'Fitter. Happier. more productive. Comfortable. not drinking too much. regular exercise at the gym (3 days a week). getting on better with your associate employee contemporaries. at ease. Eating well (no more microwave dinners and saturated fats). a patient better driver. a safer car (baby smiling in back seat). sleeping well (no bad dreams). no paranoia. careful to all animals (never washing spiders down the plughole). keep in contact with old friends (enjoy a drink now and then). will frequently check credit at (moral) bank (hole in wall). favours for favours. fond but not in love. charity standing orders. on sundays ring road supermarket. (no killing moths or putting boiling water on the ants). car wash (also on sundays). no longer afraid of the dark. or midday shadows. nothing so ridiculously teenage and desperate. nothing so childish. at a better pace. slower and more calculated. no chance of escape. now self-employed. concerned (but powerless). an empowered and informed member of society (pragmatism not idealism). will not cry in public. less chance of illness. tires that grip in the wet (shot of baby strapped in back seat). a good memory. still cries at a good film. still kisses with saliva. no longer empty and frantic. like a cat. tied to a stick. that's driven into frozen winter shit. (the ability to laugh at weakness). Calm. Fitter. Healthier and more productive. a pig. in a cage. on antibiotics.'

So yeah... I felt a little silly whenever a person would pop up from on the trail and it would be clear that they had caught at least 2 or 3 lines of what I was saying. Their faces seemed to say: 'Who is this kid, and why doesn't he get along with his associate employee contemporaries?'

I meet Matt P for dinner, which was another pretty good meal... I gotta say how much I am sick of 'homestyle' food though. He decides to camp out at Apgar as well, and after he gets set up in the dark, we have pretty much nothing to do so we talk for a couple of hours about the future, the past, relationships, jobs, friends, music, wild animals, etc. It's a good way to end the reunion period of this trip. Tomorrow Matt goes off on his own for good, and I will stick around here for a few more days. So now... and for real this time, I will be going solo.

Tomorrow it is supposed to rain, so I will get a 1-room cabin at KOA and kill a day tooling around on the internet so I can ride as far up the GOING TO THE SUN ROAD as I can on Saturday. I'm really looking forward to that, even if it is an abbreviated ride.

Day 66: I'm A Rolling Stone... Of Sorts.

I am INSISTING that you click on all the panoramic shots to get the full effect. Trust me... they'll look much cooler at their full size. Thanks.


This morning Matt moved on to West Glacier and i headed out to sightsee. I got a good chance to talk with the hiker who stayed in the hostel last night, and he's a really neat guy. Definitely glad I stuck around this morning to hang out with him. But around 10am I headed up Hwy 49 to Two Medicine. The skies were overcast and the wind was growing stronger as the day went on, but the riding was excellent. Getting there was a decent split of uphill and downhill; combined with the fact that i didn't have any panniers attached to the bike, it made for the best day of riding on this whole trip. I cannot even describe how beautiful it is here.

Before even entering the Official Park Boundaries, I saw a black bear in the woods on the side of the road, which made me completely paranoid for the rest of the day. Rationally, I knew I had very little to fear, but still I couldn't stop my heart from racing every time I turned a corner. Still not completely sure of what to do in case of a bear encounter, but I doubt it will be an issue, so I'm not too worried.

Shortly after seeing the bear, I saw 3 large dark animals way off in the distance... I quickly stopped the bike and stayed completely still while examining my options. I was a ways away, but didn't want to take any chances. Well... Long story short... It was a bunch of cows. But from afar they very much looked like they could have been bears. Check it out...

OK... I'm gonna go through this quickly, and just let the pictures speak for themselves. Two Medicine was beautiful beyond belief, though very windy and very cold; wind unlike anything Ive experienced on this trip. The Rangers Stations and stores were boarded up for the winter, and it added to the effect of the cold windy day. I felt like I was witnessing the last gasp of the 2007 season. Like being introduced to somebody the day before you graduate college and move away to a new city. On the way back, I walked my bike down a dirt path to Lower Two Medicine Lake, which was also empty, and vast and impressive. I'm not sure why everything feels so lugubrious today, but it certainly adds to the poetry. I spend a couple of hours exploring the area before heading back to East Glacier. On the rid eback, I have a tailwind and go flying both uphill and downhill; great riding. I can't wait to see more of the park. If it wasn't about to get so much colder, I would be tempted to abandon the cross country thing, and just spend a few weeks here. But I'm a rolling stone... of sorts.

Later that night, a hiker from Austin Texas comes to stay in the hostel. He's on his way to Chicago via train. Super nice guy. He tells me I HAVE to see Many Glacier, but unfortunately i don't know if I'll get the chance.

Day 65, Part 2: Suddenly Everything Has Changed

The Mexican food was good. Very good in fact… or maybe it’s just been too long since I’ve had Mexican food. After dinner I decided to grab my headphones and go for a walk. Wow, what a great decision.

I headed up Hwy 49 and cut through some woods onto a dirt path that ran along a creek. The trees have started to turn yellow and the sun was setting behind the mountains. I really could not believe how beautiful this place is, and this is only a tiny corner that is barely inside the park. I took pictures but am confident that none of them can do it justice. Every person I passed was smiling and a little bit too friendly, like Christmas morning when everyone is drunk with kindness, having received many gifts and then swelling with warmth when others receive ours. I think everyone here can’t help but realize what a treat it is to be surrounded by such “unnatural” beauty, and are thankful, and happy, and want to share it with everyone they see. So they want to say “hello” to everyone they meet. It’s a magical place. Richard Hawley on the Ipod. Moon rising over the giant trees that I couldn’t name for $100. When night fell, the wind got colder and I headed back to town.

I’ve been on the prairie for so long, it’s great to be in a forest again. We only rode 12 miles today, and suddenly everything has changed. I’m really happy here. I spent so much time in my youth despising the outdoors; too egocentric to appreciate the world outside of myself. So many camping trips with the scouts, or with dad; probably not wasted, probably more like a seed that would take way too long time to germinate. Maybe that’s a lot of what parenting is: 20 years of seemingly wasted life lessons that pay off way down the line. Still, it seems like I should be able to identify those trees. I like that they are yellow.

Tomorrow I will wake up early and ride my bike up to the top of Two Medicine and then slowly work my way downhill. Thursday I will ride my bike over the continental divide at Marias Pass over to West Glacier and find a place to spend Friday during the cold and the rain. Saturday I will ride my bike up Going to the Sun Rd, as far as I can, and then head back down to West Glacier. Sunday, if I’ve had my fill, I will head over to Whitefish and continue on with the cross country ride. This is going to be an exciting week, and the scenery is going to get a LOT cooler.

Oh yeah. From here on out, Steven is riding solo, and he will probably be very cold.

As I was uploading these photos, a new guy showed up to stay in the hostel. He's hiking the Continental Divide. He started in Mexico is just a few days from reaching Canada. Nice guy. I envy his abilities to survive in complete wilderness, but have absolutely no interest in facing that large of a challenge. I'm glad to have met him.