This is a short entry, but the day seemed longer than I can describe it. Good-long, but not too tiring...I feel really great and there's only a couple nappers here at the end where usually almost everyone but me ends up asleep before dinner. (I like to save my sleep for the nighttime...napping can interfere with my bedtime, and my journal-writing time.)
We woke up late (intentionally), and I was ready in a flash to help cook breakfast...'cept it was already done cooked by the time I made it back. So I had time to work on a previous blog entry and clean up camp, and sit around for awhile. but then we set out into our coldest morning yet--I actually used my long-fingered gloves for the first time. And it was good, for about a half hour...and then my hands were sweating like mad while my nipples were freezing. We made really good time over to our first stop and saw a sulfur pool and then hurried onto the main event: rest stop number 2 was to be at Old Faithful. On the way there was some of the best riding we've had so far--killer climbs that led to wondrous curvy downhill cruises. We lost a lot of a altitude and regained it between our two crosses of the continental divide (our first on the bikes!)...and it was good. I was the only one to have seen Old Faithful before so I wasn't as excited as everyone else, but I had fun joking along with everyone about novel uses for the geyser stream (making tea, boiling enemies alive, ruining crystal, doing laundry), and then Katy and I took the half mile walking loop trail that starts and ends at Old Faithful, to see some other pools and geysers while everyone else went somewhere else...to the gift shop, maybe? Anyhow, we rejoined everyone to sit around feeling lethargic in the shade for a bit before doing the next 20 miles..which were probably the easiest miles of the ride so far. Nearly all downhill, and Alex and I cruised along at a very nice clip, stopping to check out some paint pots and a nifty deepblue/orange contrasty pool...matched our jerseys, kinda =)
The border race was during the last 11 miles of the day, into West Yellowstone (a town just on the other side of the border in Montana). There were only 5 pre-declared contenders, though Daniel came up front for a bit to split up the lead pack into Alex C, Alex M, and myself off the front. He wasn't competing, so he dropped back and took Michael and Allison with him. Alex C had good legs and kept leaving me behind while Alex M drafted him, then got tired of pulling so slowed up and I caught them. The third time this happened I knew it had to be close since we were at mile 9 and I was close to puking (always a good indicator that the race is almost over, or anyway almost over for me!), so I stuck it until Alex C (in the lead) and me (behind Alex M who was in the middle of our paceline) saw the sign simultaneously. I put on a burst of speed...and so did Alex C...and we left Alex M behind. By this point, we were about 100 yards from the border sign, which was the smallest we were to pass on our journey--not much bigger than a street sign, only painted brown and about 2.5 feet off the ground. I came abreast of Alex, but I couldn't quite get that last half-wheel on him and I screamed in frustration as we pounded past the sigh...and he took the race by about a foot. It was really nice to actually be neck-and-neck in a race and I was proud to be part of the lead group even if I did have to pull off and contemplate vomiting afterwards. We were all (except Alex M himself) surprised by the Menzies performance, since he's never raced before, but kept up today with no trouble. Of course he didn't break the wind at all and he claims that was his secret...so we'll make him pull next time =)
Daniel gave me some advice about racing at dinner -- I need to be able to get up to 120rpm pedalling during a sprint, and I need to train up to that point instead of trying to shift in the heat of the moment and losing precious moments in the process. He said he'd help me with my sprinting...so maybe I'll get my turn someday...
Now we're all arrived in town at a church and looking at eating, so I'll end this quick. I am very looking forward to seeing what's at the mail drop tomorrow, and to staying with what has been described as one of the best hosts of the trip! (Yes, the web site is wrong about the mail drop date...it's tomorrow. If you sent something and don't hear about it in a blog entry from Bozeman tomorrow, let me know so I can send a car back to pick it up! I'm sure I won't be the only one.)
After the border race, I was pretty exhausted. working out to the extreme of the body threatening to give up on you tends to have that effect, on me anyway. Fortunately we ate like kings (I had a buffalo burger and nachos...and finished them both, natch). Afterwards I was ready for bed but duty called...Usman was out with Daniel hunting forest fires (I know. I don't know.) and we needed a route. Daniel had heard earlier from our contact at the church that the direct route (89 miles) was both under construction and unsafe to cyclists--supposedly several had died on a stretch of that road in recent years. So I mapped out an alternate route...the alternate route--there weren't a lot of choices. Any choices, really. The alternate route appeared to add 30 miles to the route and a helluva lot of climbing...oh, wait, mapping error, just a lot of climbing, since the road goes around that mountain and not over it as I drew the route. Whew! We'd basically be heading west/north/east instead of straight north. Thirty's not a lot of miles...unless they come at the end of ninety. I thought the prospects were pretty dismal, but without everyone around, I didn't figure it was worth worrying about, and went to sleep. When I awoke, I discovered that the 120 mile route had been decided upon, and so we rushed through breakfast to the dedication...which everyone put their heart into, knowing they'd need some inspiration for the long day ahead. The only relative I know of who's died of cancer is my Dad's Dad, Grandpa Arkey; so I dedicated my ride to him.
We set out fast and furious, and I led by about 200 yards for the first 40 miles...I wasn't pushing it but everyone else was in a paceline just behind me. The first 20 or so miles were made more interesting by the forest fire raging just north of yellowstone...and we headed due north for 9 miles. We could smell the smoke, see the firefighters zooming by, but I never saw smoke being actively generated, nor any flames. Still, twas kind of creepy to ride down a highway with no side road access due to the fire. From our 20 mile rest stop, we could look out to the south and see a pall of smoke hanging over the nearby lake. We'd felt what seemed like swarms of bugs during that 20 miles...but we decided later that it was pieces of soot. My nickname lately has been "the windshield" since I sweat more than anyone and use plenty of sunscreen (when I remember to use any) and so I collect bugs on my face and end up looking kind of nasty at the end of a few miles. But fortunately the soot wasn't as sticky as the average dead gnat =)
The next 20 miles had some decent climbs, but also some really awesome descents...speed limits were broken! Heading into mile 60 Nelson and I played chaseline (Who can go faster? How bout you get in front and take this wind, then!) and led the group by several minutes...and then we did the same thing most of the way up to mile 80 where we stopped for a snack (him - chips and a drink, me, a burger and a salad) in a small town as everyone else cruised past. We barely noticed anyone going by and luckily Alex C noticed us when he came past as sweeper and gave us sweep duty since he didn't want to stop. About a mile later, at a gas station, we hurtled past about 8 folks stopped and Collin shouted that he would take back sweep duty, so we pressed on to the rest stop. Between miles 80 and 100 came The Climb. We could see the hill starting just after our 80mi rest stop...and it turned out to be actually worse than it appeared. Natalie had driven ahead to get her bike's shifting looked at (she had no granny gear, and she would not have made it up the hill we were staring up at), and called back to tell Michael that the hill wasn't that bad and that it was "mostly downhill from the top of that climb." This cheered us up a little bit, and people took off quickly...so quickly that I was with the sweep group for the first 5 minutes of the climb. I probably climbed for a good 25 minutes straight and made it through 2 miles at most. I saw Amy stopped up ahead, feeling awful, and stopped to make sure she was going to survive before climbing onwards. Secretly, I needed the rest, but was ashamed to stop without a reason, so it's a good thing she was there or I might have exploded before the top. After 10 minutes of climbing, I turned off the odometer so I'd stop feeling frustrated by the near-total lack of forward progress. Finally I crested, and found some historical marker which my eyes passed over in its entirety but I retained none of, and I caught my breath. After that I chased Alex M for about 12 miles before we came upon Claire by the roadside, an apparent early rest stop, which was good--I was starting to feel tired and hungry.
Claire was the star of this episode, and tells the story much better than I do, so instead of writing pages of details about frustration and dust and figuring and eventual victory thanks mostly to our Master Trailer Operator Michael, so I'll link to her journal entry instead. Suffice it to say, it was hot, we spent 2 hours doing heavy lifting and some wringing of hands, and then got back on the road without actually doing rest stop stuff like filling water bottles and having a snack.
We were on a really narrow road at that point, and the map had said it was around 20 miles to Bozeman. So, we plowed on and were plagued by hill after hill...and my energy dropped rapidly until almost nothing was left. I finally realized where I was physically (bonking), as I hung onto the tail end of the pack..so I stopped to eat. I had enough for myself, and when Katy came up desperate for any kind of food I found a little for her, too. We soldiered on to find the vans stopped at about mile 115, with the entire team standing by. Asking a few questions turned up the following information:
0) It's 7:30pm.
1) We are getting host families for the night rather than staying with the contact for the town (a previous rider's aunt).
2) Dinner is ready and waiting for us at the contact's home.
3) There are still, somehow, 20 more miles to go and the last 6 are uphill!
4) We are expected to get in the cars (many of which are still en route to this spot) along with our bikes and sag in so as not to keep people waiting
Daniel and Collin pull in just after me and we sit there talking a moment before a truck drives by and kicks up some gravel that hit me...and then I turn to see two big orange spatters on the van. We've been shot at by paintballs! One flew between Daniel and Collin and myself missing each of us by inches. It left a dent in the van. Eric and Menzies jump in the minivan to chase them down...and the rest of the story is once again told better by Claire (in that same journal entry of hers. However, while he was off saving the planet, I ran through some alternatives to sagging in with Collin...we could just take off. We could come back and do the miles after dinner, or in the morning. We could ride around the block for 20 miles once we were driven into town. Nobody was biting, but everyone was sad about having to head in with the ride incomplete--that isn't how we roll! We finish what we start, we ride for those who can't til we can't ride anymore...and I felt like we could still finish! But circumstances spoke otherwise. Collin stated that he was ready to turn it up to 20 mph and finish in an hour. I was pretty sure I didn't have that kind of energy in me. Finally I asked Daniel if it'd be too awful if we just left...started riding. He smiled, and waved. So I bolted. I don't think anyone except Daniel even saw me leave. Fortunately I had the directions memorized (the benefits of choosing our route) and the map in my head.
And so I flew. Into the suburbs (we were still outside of even the suburbs at the stop), and then into Bozeman. I didn't have the energy inside me...but I had the entire team riding with me. I never looked back, and I didn't slow down for 10 miles. It was mostly downhill into town, and the handful of pretzels I'd eaten before the paintballs hit powered me through that. But then main street flattened out and my energy started to dwindle. And then I realized that I hadn't felt the wind at all for the last 10 miles. Collin, Nelson, and Alex C were breaking the wind for me. Michael was leading me downhill (he's the only one heavier than me on the team...so he gets more downhill momentum in the same circumstances). Katy and Claire and Ellen were cheering me on. Amy and Usman were screaming, hands in the air. Natalie was believing in my route as I had to detour through downtown to avoid construction. Daniel was smiling and nodding. Allison was telling me a joke when I stopped smiling as I pedalled. Alex M was taking a picture for the website as I rolled past. Vinoj and Alex S were nodding alongside me. Eric and Shawn were composing a theme song and belting it out as they led me up hills. The whole team was in my head and it felt like they were on the road too, and I was flying for them. And I couldn't stop pedalling as even my legs started to sweat and my breath came only in gasps, and I was turning onto the second to last street. Michael Ungar, and Aunt Judy, and Matt Bush, and Pong, and all the people I was riding for were behind me pushing me uphill. And then a car came up behind me honking...it was full of teammates, who cheered me on and led me around the last corner and I sped up to draft off their car for about 30 feet...totally expending the last of my energy. And then I saw the heartbreaker...a 300 foot tall climb that the car zoomed up, and around the corner, out of sight. And I thought I was done. I was a constant stream of saltwater, coming off every part of my body...and pouring out my eyes. I couldn't stop crying but I could still see the road and so I kept pedalling. Slower and slower, I ground up the hill. I was about to pass out and fall off the bike...when a kid on a pocket dirtbike flew past me. It was demoralizing. But I'd just then come around a corner and the team could see me from the house. And I heard a huge cheer. And I knew I couldn't stop. I had to stop. I gasped frantically and dry heaved for about 30 seconds before I cranked slowly, ever so slowly up the last part of the hill and just about collapsed next to the house. As I leaned there for a minute, dripping, supported only by the ground and the force of everyone else's will, someone took what will undoubtedly be the most pathetic picture ever, of me. I can wait to see that one.
Then someone showed me inside and shoved some food and drinks at me; I drank 4 20 ounce gatorades in about 10 minutes. I couldn't really eat much, and every time I moved I started to cramp. So, I ate some electrolyte pills and stood (for fear that sitting would leave me unable to get up). A woman came over and told me it had been 130 miles. I hadn't even been able to see the digits on my odometer for the last 6 miles. But I made it. We made it. The team didn't give up, and they didn't let me give up. And so we did 130 miles. It's the longest ride I've ever done, and included around 5,000 feet of climbing...including 1200 feet in the last 8 miles. I felt perfect, and I sat there in a haze and watched the sun go down over some gorgeous mountains and I thought about all of you reading this. Your support has meant the world to me. You got me here, and keep me happy. So I can finish the day.
Thank you all!
(And a special thanks to Charlie and Clara for their hospitality that evening. Sleeping in a bed with a private bathroom felt like reward enough for everything we've done.)
We had a great, extremely filling and maybe even balanced breakfast thanks to our meta-host Vickie (Vicky?) and a group of 8 2006 riders who all had a reunion in Bozeman and welcomed us in & saw us off. I hope we get a reunion in a town that beautiful! Several of the folks who'd said they wanted to live in Boulder changed their tune to Bozeman once they saw it. I'm a little torn...Bozeman definitely has some of the same stuff going for it as boulder does but boulder is a lot more temperate and central. Definitely would like to make it back there someday myself, though.
Then we did our typical dedication, except that the 06 team joined us, and gave us a wonderful present that I can't even begin to describe. I'll let Claire take a shot at it instead =) (If you already read Claire's journal entry I linked above, you've already read this.)
Nelson and I put out a dedication to Charlie's sister (-in-law?) Linda, just diagnosed days ago, to give us another reason to ride.
Despite coming in utterly fatigued and with tanks not only empty but nearly imploded, I led out strong...but Collin led out stronger! His story in a few words since he doesn't tend to write here is that he accidentally ran over his bike in the team van...the bike still rolled but it didn't shift and the handlebars were way crooked. He worked off his anger in the first 22 miles, outriding the group and the vans (and thus, the first rest stop) only to get picked up and taken back to the bike shop in town for a fix.
At about mile 78, I looked down at my odometer and saw a 1 change into a 2. I hit 2,000 miles cradled between two mountain ranges, next to a long, long lake, under a huge Montana sky, riding on the end of the highway I drove the first 98% of (from Texas to Wyoming via US287) back in 2002. It was an odd synthesis of past and present that just made homeless-me feel somehow at home and at peace with the world. I was the first on the team to hit 2000 miles, because I like to ride around town once I get in, and because I've been lucky with short drive days and got the bonus miles yesterday. Of course we are not particularly close to halfway in mileage and we are still 5 days off the "middle of the trip." Everyone else is close behind, and we'll all get there =)
Somehow, our day turned into a 110 mile day despite being listed as far less...lately we haven't known our exact destination at the beginning and the church was actually outside the city limits of helena to the north...and my mileage estimates were off (somehow I've become prime router again lately). But fortunately for me, the last 10 miles were literally a downhill, victorious coast through town with merriment in pointing out obstacles in the road (grate. Grate. Grate! GRATE! AAAAAA!), and we cruised up to the church just as dinner was served, and all was well in the world.
After dinner there were some tense moments as the preacher at the church got a little zany with the proselytizing in the scary preacher voice about why they'd agreed to put us up--they had decided not to at first, when they got a "divine message" about how they should. It was a little weird to be told we were basically unwelcome guests brought into their church because some dude in the sky seemed to want it. Then he started drawing analogies between our ride and the suffering of Job and lost the respect of the few remaining riders who hadn't thought that he was a little unsane already.
No complaints about the accommodations though! (Especially since Alex C and I heard a barely mentioned whisper of "you can sleep out in the RV" which featured air conditioning and quiet conditions, both lacking in the church and pounced on the primo sleep spots). I even got a bed for the second night in the row because Alex didn't want to make it in the morning, or something. I didn't question my luck! After getting set up and showered, I wandered back over and blogged a bit before it was Fireworks Time. Folks had been buying fireworks like mad and were just coming to the realization that they probably shouldn't take 'em across the border into Canada, and the preacher had made some oblique mention of how the church was outside city limits...so it became open season. I'm surprised nobody in the surrounding neighborhood called the cops on us or anything. The pinnacle of the evening (which I stayed to see despite repeated incidents of bottle rockets being dropped by Alex S and hitting people. Thankfully nobody was hurt) was Alex M riding his "jet-powered bicycle" with roman candles firing off the back. None of our image capturing (photo or video) worked very well for this event but it was quite a sight to see.
I just love that song lyric; I don't think it applies very much to today, which was more a day for natural beauty than anything else. I swept and was thus rewarded with a comfortable pace for seeing the sights, mostly. It was a good day for that!
I started out cruising with Alex S who was hurting a lot and thus performing below his usual abilities...but we had a good conversation about geekthings and startups and motivations of programmers and distracted eachother from the tedium of a very. Long. Climb. Out of Helena. We got to the first rest stop after some fun downhills, and queried some road workers who drove by about our destination. us: "Are there any waterfalls in Great Falls? Because we really want to see some." worker 1: "Huh, uh, I dunno." worker 2: "Yeah, there are some falls." us: "And are they great?" them: "..." They drove off, and I missed the reason, but suddenly the whole team was singing "I Will Survive" and much fun was had by all. Until we had to get back on our bikes, of course. And then more fun was had! Well, unless you look at it from the point of view of our butts, which actually get not much in the way of a view all day anyway, and are pretty darn furious at us by now, at least if "registered pain" is any indicator.
Today was the first day we've had to take the interstate for this entire trip. We avoid it like the plague since it's more heavily travelled, has tons of exit lanes (where most bike-car accidents happen out on the open road, anyway), tends to have more debris on the shoulders...so, more dangerous. More direct, too, usually, but we don't let a few extra miles stand in our way. After all there are two ways to do things: the easy way, and the T4K way.
Cruising into the first rest stop, I made it 2.7 miles without touching the handlebars, slaughtering my previous best of 1.2 miles. So I put the challenge to the team and they're all working to unseat me as the hand-less king. Surprisingly, Vinoj seems to be one of the best at it--he actually goes a lot straighter when he's not touching the steering wheel! (He typically weaves all over the available space to a larger degree than anyone else. A much larger degree.) Some kinda strange zen koan in operation there...too deep for me. But I hope to learn from him!
At mile 25 or so, us hwy 287 left us forever and we stuck to the interstate since it was actually working pretty well--the shoulders were clear, the traffic was light, and the exits were *very* few--there's not much out here to exit at! We won't see it again on this trip, and so that last 1% I've never travelled on will probably remain forever off my travel itinerary...until the next time I bike to Alaska maybe =)
At the point where 287 splits off, I caught up with the whole group debating which way to go. Suddenly it was decided to follow the interstate, and so they left...and left me waiting, since Alex M, Usman, and Vinoj were missing! After waiting 20 minutes and reading part of amy's ironman race report (somehow I had cell-data service out in the middle of nowhere), I decided to race up to the rest stop and let the car figure out where they'd gone. I made up 20 minutes in 9 miles to catch Katy and Claire about a quarter mile shy of the rest stop. That rest stop lasted forever for me, even though I was nearly last in..since the car found the missing 3 walking their bikes up the side of the road! They were out of tubes and had suffered no less than 3 flats. Re-tubed, they rode in, but then didn't ride out for awhile since Vinoj needed new tires in hopes of further flat-prevention.
Usually as sweep you get to go slow all day, but between that race against the clock and what came later, today gave me a chance to stretch my legs and give me a reason to be sore tonight.
Further on the natural wonders, aside from the gorgeous and huge montana sky--Alex M and I decided it was huger because of the mountain-contrast as opposed to the flat horizons we have in Texas (we were in the mountains for most of the day), was a plague of grasshoppers. Wonder-ful but not wonderful, for a mile or so the shoulder was literally littered with grasshoppers...live grasshoppers. It took me a minute to realize what the crunchy stuff on the shoulder was that was flying up at my shins...and then I was a little grossed out once I had figured it out, and was trying to fend off hoppers while at the same time dodging them at 20mph without crashing or swerving into rumblestrips and traffic...it was yucky and dangerous. And very weird. They stopped as suddenly as they'd started.
On a more beautiful note was the geology we saw today...an interstate cut through the mountains makes for interesting cross sections. I wish I could remember...well...almost anything from geology class. I saw two kinds of fault, some lava flows, and tons of kinds and eras of rock. And I can tell you almost no specifics. But it was awesome. Review your geology for better blogging, future riders!
At the 40-mile rest stop, while Vinoj changed his tires, I bragged to Alex M that my Armadillo tires were holding up super well. So well that I hadn't even looked at them in some time or done any maintenance except to pump them every morning. Alex told me not to jinx myself.
So, at the 60-mile rest stop, Nelson happened to notice that my back tire was literally shredded. The rubber had fallen off of a good 30% of the outside road-contact surface. It hadn't burst or in any way affected the tube inside...but it was obviously on the verge of an tragic explosion. Sigh. Of course this all happened as I got ready to pull out at the tail of the pack. So, I dug out my spare tire and tried to change an armadillo tire for a new one...but I was having a hard time so instead I gave it to Daniel who was standing nearby (it being his drive day) and he got it back on in record time to get me back on the road only 10 minutes or so after the last of the riders had departed onwards. Tire one (rear) lasted only 2800 miles...which makes me sad. Tire one (front) is fortunately in better condition. However tire one (rear) did allow 2 flats, and tire one (front) is still flatless. So maybe tire two (rear) will be the golden child.
The heretofore unmentioned reason for my agitation with the tire is that some stormclouds were looming and had blown up from behind us. The wind picked way up and it started to sprinkle. Daniel smiled at me and told me to race the clouds. So I flew back up to the tail of the group...and caught it just as we caught up with Eric standing by the side of the road waving us in: "You have to exit here--the construction gets awful and there's no room for bikes so we're inside trying to come up with a plan". So in we went, snacked up (corn dog with tapatio, which they strangely had in tiny packets), and waited. And waited. Apparently the pastor of the church we were to stay at was coming out to meet us. So several of us napped, and waited, and finally he showed up. and Daniel was off scouting a route in the van, so we chatted with him and listened to his route advice (I think you're gonna have to take the highway), until Daniel came back and asked if I'd scouted out a route yet. Oops. I'd mentioned I saw something on the map that looked promising but the pastor had assured me it would be a dirt road at some point so I'd given up on it. Daniel hadn't found anything perfect out driving so I hammered off down the proposed road to do the 5-minute check. and 4 minutes in, it was beautiful. 4:30, it turned to this incredible gravel that just about rattled my teeth and eyes out of their sockets and was, for all intents and purposes, unrideable. I headed back and we figured out that one could ride on the access road for most of the trip, and then just take a quick highway jaunt across a river into town.
Due to having the only functional navigational smartphone, I led us into town over a piece of "the busiest road in Montana" with no difficulties. It wasn't so bad, really.
After arriving, Shawn and I ducked in for first-showers since we were ready and they were empty. It was the smallest 2-person shower I've ever been in. No larger than a small closet. We bumped eachother a few times but got clean in the warm water, and then rode our bikes off in search of food. 6 of us converged on a pizza place that served beer and wasn't a chain. Our standards are low, but not so low that we won't patronize real local slicehouses. We all filled up, but then had to stop for ice cream on the way home Because It Was There, and finally retired spread out over this huge church--I got a couch! Could get used to all this cushiness =)
Was thrilled to get to talk with Mom and my sister Meredith this morning; finally found a better use for the morning ready-and-waiting-an-hour-and-a-half-for-everyone-else-to-be time, than napping (don't worry, I got in a nap, too). We did a quick dedication and had an uneventful rollout and first 14 miles with Usman and myself guiding. I was tired but maintained decent speed out of town until we turned west and directly into a headwind that slowed us significantly. By the time we got to the rest stop, nobody had much energy left, and the remaining climb off the main road toward dupuyer and glacier national park didn't pump us up. I led out just to get things moving, and found myself going 11mph at full effort. As a point of reference, that leaves about 2 hours until the next 20-mile rest stop, which is a lot of saddle time, so I was kind of depressed. I like the days when we hit 45-50 minute 20 milers, but over 1.25 hours means we're moving a lot slower than I prefer. I was hoping someone would fly past and I could go hide in their shadow to get a break from the wind, but I looked back and found everyone going the same speed at best. Finally I stopped to pee and Collin, Ellen, and Shawn passed me, and Collin and Shawn pulled for a while and we made it into the town of Fairfield where everyone else stopped. I decided to keep going since the wind was giving us a little break...and suddenly there was a 5 mile downhill, so I coasted into the rest stop. Nelson pulled in just after me and said he'd been trying to catch up for the last 7 miles...and had been the same distance behind us the whole time! The wind does that to even the strongest riders (I'd say nelson, Alex C, and I lead the majority of the time--not that we're stronges/fastest, it's just that we are the most impatient, enjoy riding fast, and have pretty good legs.)
Out of that rest stop, Katy led by 100 yards for about 7 miles before Allison and I passed her and found the mountains again--we'd lost them in the hills at some point. It had started to feel like we were back in Texas again--relentless heat, and at this altitude (~2000 ft) the sky looks the same as it does in texas. Surrounded by brown ranch hills full of horses, cows, barbed wire, and an occasional alpaca...anyway we were looking for a change and we got it: strange aquamarine lakes and some nifty buttes or mesas, and finally rest stop 3.
After the 60 mile rest stop, I was tired of waiting. I was also tired. My legs, my butt, my head. Never my heart, though! With 26 miles to go, I figured I could just skip the last rest stop and make it to the destination and get off the bike already. It was such a long day...the wind was never horrible, but it was always bad, for that last 26. It actually seemed to abate on the flats, but on the hills, up or down, it was there working against me. I was a couple miles out ahead of everyone since I had gotten tired of sitting around before them, so there was nobody to help with the wind, and I suffered for that, but it was the kind of suffering that brings a sense of accomplishment and success, like you've beat something evil, which is something nice to snuggle with at the end of a long day.
The last 26 were very hilly. Struggle-up-em again and again. Probably 5 major hills that left me panting and parched. And so I ran out of water on the meanest one of the lot. Straight up--so it was taunting me in its fullness rather than hiding behind a curve. I was struggling and panting when I saw the Blackfeet Nation's team of crack firefighters drive past...and then a car pulled up beside me and paced me. I was annoyed--there was no shoulder, so we were sharing a lane. until I looked over and saw an elderly indian woman leaning out of a minivan holding out an ice cold bottle of water. I gratefully took it and the driver leaned over and asked "What the heck are you guys doing?" I explained our mission in brief, between gasps (we were still proceeding uphill at like 7mph), and he says, "No shit!" and smiles and wishes us luck and drives on. I couldn't stop pedalling enough to open it until the top (though I must have looked comical trying to do so with my teeth and elbows), but once I got to the top and chugged the whole bottle, it was the best water I drank all day. It powered me through the last few miles, up the last few vicious hills, as I rode into town, finally, at an average of 12.8mph over 2.1 hours, and cheered quietly to myself. I asked the third fellow I saw if his store was open and he informed me that the only things in town that were open would be the two bars--no stores actually selling anything here. He also told me where the school was, so I went to a bar and had one of "whatever you have on tap that's not generic" and about 4 glasses of water. While I was drinking, I found out that a 2005 rider had set a record there--most tacos eaten in one night! But they were running low on food so I wouldn't be able to rise to the challenge tonight. After that I waited for everyone else to show up and told them where the school was before taking a hose shower (brr!) and going to eat at a bar full of friendly people who chatted with us about the ride, and about Bush commuting Libby's sentence (rural Montana is surprisingly liberal), and now it's 9pm and bedtime.
Our gracious Dupuyer-housing-enabler, Angie, showed up just in time to join our dedication this morning, and it was kind of a doozy of a dedication. We had the typical recognitions of the-few-locals-we-met-yesterday including a guy whose 5-month-old daughter had just died, which gave everyone a bit of pause. Amy in particular had a touching dedication to her grandma, the 4th anniversary of whose death is coming up on July 5th (which won't be a ride day for most people). I love Amy's style when dedicating and when it's appropriate I try to emulate it: she'll tell a story about the quirks of a person, make them human, and then describe how they handled cancer and how Amy felt about their death. It's extremely moving to take a step back from a list of names and see a person and their effect on others on a human level.
Fortunately Angie and I picked up the happiness level a bit at the end by dedicating to a pair of people who are survivors: her father survived prostate cancer in '93 and is still doing fine, and I dedicated my ride to my best friend's little brother (whom I also consider a friend), Michael Ungar. Michael played on the UT football team and nearly went pro at the end of his career there, but I'll always think of him as the silly kid who hung out with us while we did sillier, more immature things. He's grown up into a quality adult and I've enjoyed spending time with him over the years, and watching him turn into a responsible adult. He was the first person I ever talked to about having cancer, since he had and beat it while I knew him, though he was in Boston so I didn't see him during that time. He was remarkably upbeat and candid about it, and I was glad to be reminded that though bad things happen to good people, sometimes it all works out ok in the end.
The ride was hilly and windy, frequently at the same time. Collin and I led out and took turns breaking the wind for one another and conversing when we got too tired to zoom, after about mile 13. We both suffer the very-sore-butt syndrome at the moment and our initial goal for the day's riding was "minimal saddle time"--typically achieved by going quickly. Our legs were definitely fighting us though, as we've both ridden all of every day for the past week...including a total of 400+ in 4 days, probably the most intense stretch of the trip. In the space of 4 days (5.7% of the trip-time) we did 1/10th of our mileage and we were definitely looking forward to a rest for all of our aches and pains in Glacier National Park!
During the slow times, we talked about how this trip has really brought out the good in people as a whole, not just individual persons we meet. I've often said that I love a lot of persons but that people as a whole frequently are hateful, small, petty, and generally unpleasant...and sometimes hard to love. But this trip has been a shower of generosity, support, appreciation, and smiles...it has really shown that good things can come to good people with a good cause--we must be doing something right =)
I also made the comment that every day I enjoy seeing how the team has really come together. I don't think I've ever been on a team so full of selflessness, cooperation, and people putting in extra effort to make things smooth for others. It will no doubt boost my optimism levels for some time to come, hopefully bolstering me against moments of disappointment so I can remain as optimistic as ever through the bad times as well as the good for the coming years. That's one of my favorite personality traits (of the few that I'm even aware that I display), and I'd love to hold onto my optimism for just a little while before turning cynical. Hopefully I can just avoid that altogether!
The rest of the ride was still hilly but the wind died down, so we made good time through Browning where we met up with Alex C and Daniel who'd gone ahead the night before, to camp in Glacier to hold some sites for us--since the next day was the 4th of july and sure to attract a full campground and nothing is worse than showing up to find you don't have a place to stay! They'd succeeded but with a caveat--we had to detour to a campground called two medicine for the first night...and then the next day we get to ride (on our off day) up to the proper site, St. Mary's. It'll be an optional ride and most people will probably choose to keep off their butts on their off day and see the park on vehicle and foot, but I think a handful of us will make the 30 mile extra-hilly ride. I'm only happy about it because I know I get to drive in a couple days and my butt will get a break then...and I want to keep on keeping on for as long as I can until then.
Once we arrived and got settled in, Katy and Alex S and I went down and checked out running eagle falls which was definitely worth seeing. I've never seen a waterfall shoot out of a cliff face before, but this one certainly does. We all took a dip in the water, which was significantly colder than barton springs, so it was quite a brief dip, but, we decided, still "invigorating". And then we remembered to look up at all the mountains we're nestled in between =)
After dinner, I stayed up past my bedtime just to wait for it to get dark, so I could see the stars. I had done a little research on the constellations before I left, thinking I'd be out in the middle of nowhere and thus getting a great view of the stars fairly frequently. While I am out in the middle of nowhere constantly, I tend to be asleep at night (these days, before sunset which doesn't finish up til 10:30 or so now! meaning darkness is a post-11pm kinda thing) so I've mostly missed that boat, but I was determined to get a peek in before I slept considering that I'd get to sleep in the next day. As I picked a spot to look upwards from (we're in a forested area) and listened to the murmur of the folks around the campfire, I gave some thanks again for the opportunity to do something I love day in and day out, for a good cause, and for the opportunity to do it in such varied and beautiful country as this. And then I looked beyond our place in this world and looked out into a universe bigger than anything I'll ever do and caught my breath as a pair of shooting stars whizzed past eachother, and made a wish for an end to suffering and a safe ride for all of us this summer.