Day Thirty-six: 6/29/08

Montana is almost behind us. The North Dakota border is a mere 25 miles to the east of us. This is the fourth consecutive day of 100+ miles ridden, although today was a mere 103 miles. The temperatures climbed into the low 90s today with zero clouds in the sky, but a fairly mild headwind kept me comfortable all day. It wasn't until I stopped riding I realized how hot it was.

Montana is huge - almost 700 miles wide; wide enough to take up an entire time zone. The mountainous west side is radically different than central/eastern side, which reminds me of central/western Nebraska. But it's all Big Sky Country.

I once read, (in a book that I can't remember the title or author), that major milestone in the history of the settlement of the West was the introduction of the phonograph to the area. Before the phonograph's introduction western settlers suffered from a high rate of insanity and suicide. the culprit: constant silence punctuated only by the wind. The phonograph gave settlers the ability to hear something other than the constant wind. As a result, the insanity and suicide rate dropped.

PeterB and I spoke tonight about how our minds are beginning to wander in strange ways during the course of the days in the saddle lately. I find myself going over trivial subjects over and over in my mind until I forget why I was thinking about the subject in the first place. Furthermore, I'm beginning to remember people and events that I've completely forgotten. My mind seems to be engaging in a long-overdue mental spring cleaning as a way to counteract the constant sound of the wind and chain spinning beneath me. And it's weird. Liberating in a way, but weird.

We've been wrestling with some bad mosquitoes for the past few days. We've heard that they're particularly bad up the road. It looks like a DEET bath in morning is in order.

Day Thirty-five: 6/28/08

The tailwinds dissipated today, and turned into a whirlwind of cross-winds. But PeterB's iron will could not be thwarted, nor even slowed. “Damn the winds” he said in response to my reservations first thing in the morning. “To Glasgow we go”, 117 miles away. And away the fearless rider, PeterB, went, braving whatever elements may come his way. I stayed behin and ground it out in a lower gear, baking in the sun all day. In the end we have averaged 111 miles per day for the past three days, yet it looks like we won't hit North Dakota until Monday. This state is that huge.

A really great thing happened to me yesterday afternoon. I bee flew into my slightly agape mouth at high speed, stung the inside of my bottom lip/cheek and flew off. The sting hurt like hell. I instinctively started to suck on the wound and drew quite a bit of venom out of the wound, which I spit out. Then I sucked the stinger out, which took a while, all while riding my bike. Only then did I stop and take of picture of the stinger for my friends and family to see. The lip swelled up for about a half-hour, but no strange reactions took place afterward.

I rode tight-lipped all day today....

Day Thirty-four: 6/27/08

Oh what a difference a day and a tailwind makes. Two days ago pulled out of East Glacier at mile marker 210 on U.S. Highway 2. A day and half later we're at mile marker 381, and it looks like we're going to ride at least another 40 miles today. Yesterday we rode 112 miles. PeterB went into cyborg mode - no pain or fatigue - once the west wind started giving him a bit of a boost and the terrain flattened out in a hurry. I rode with him for about 5 minutes yesterday. The remainder of the day he was out of my field of vision. Today hasn't been quite as windy in our favor, but it has picked up a bit since noon.

It's a strange, hypnotic feeling hammering away in your highest gear for hours on end. The sound of the tires running across the pavement and the churning of one's legs, coupled with straddling the never-ending white line can easily lull one into some downright strange daydreams and introspection. Even the slightest variation in the landscape is noticeable, and I find myself focusing quite a bit on those changes.

I finally was able to put up the latest batch of photos on Flickr in its entirety. The Glacier photos were taken on June 24. They're pretty dramatic when compared to the few shots I've taken today....

I met a Swiss guy named Iulian yesterday and rode with him for about 20 miles. He works for Rolex and they gave him a two year sabbatical so he could ride around the world. After 13 months onthe road he's made his way through Europe, South America, Mexico, and is now half-way across the U.S. He was a pretty interesting guy, although he's hoteling it every night. Oh how I wish we could do that....

Day Thirty-two: 6/25/08

Today we rode around the southern end of Glacier. Out of West Glacier, and we wound up in East Glacier this afternoon. Along the way we tackled our last climb for quite some time: Marias Pass, where the continental divide sits. We stopped to take a couple of obligatory photos while on top. It is, quite literally, all downhill from here. Once we got over the top I was again amazed at how quickly and how radically the topography and climate changed. Going up the pass we were surrounded by dense forest and steep slopes. Going down we were welcomed by barren scrub that's been flattening out markedly. We still have some rollers to go through tomorrow morning, but after that it's flat. Very flat.

I feel as though we're about to enter what is likely the most trying phase of the trip. There's virtually nothing of the kind of interest we're used to for almost 1000 miles. Luckily, the going will be quick as a strong tailwind is expected through eastern Montana and likely North Dakota. I'm hoping to log more than a few 100+ milers during this stretch. I just hope it doesn't get too hot....

The wireless connection I'm using right now is infuriatingly slow. As a result, the Flickr uploading is accordingly delayed. I took a bunch of photos at Glacier that I want to get up ASAP. Sorry about the delay.

Day Thirty-one: 6/24/08 Cont.

I changed my mind. We went into Glacier and set up camp at the Sprague campground about ten miles in from the West Glacier entrance. We rolled in at around 4:00 p.m., so I ate a little bit food, dropped all my gear, and headed up Going to the Sun Road to see how far I could get.

I've been hearing about Going to the Sun/Logan Pass being closed for over a week now. When I checked the Glacier NP website it showed that the plows on either side of the pass were within a half-mile or less of each other, yet they barely moved closer from day to day. I spoke to a ranger today and found out why. That last half-mile – a section of the pass aptly known as Big Drift - was buried in 60 feet of snow. 60 feet. Furthermore, a federal contractor was up on the west side of the pass tearing up a mile long section near the plows. Ironically, the road's 75th anniversary celebration is this coming weekend, yet no one can get over the pass. Such is the way....

I got on my bike and started charging up the hill, while PeterB opted for a more sensible nap. We had already ridden 60 miles today, so I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to ride up the pass myself. I took my headlight and some warm clothes just in case. Some people had told me that the road was open another six miles past where we were camped. That turned out to be half-true. After six miles, at another campground named Avalanche, (why would one sleep at a place named after icy death), the road closed to all vehicular traffic, but continued to stay open to bicycle and hiker traffic.

I had a run-in with a bear about a half-mile before getting to Avalanche. I was plugging along and I heard a noise to my right. I looked over, and there was a black bear about 40 feet away near the side of the road. My heart skipped a beat and I instantly went into fight or flight mode. I had no bear mace with me, and worse, I couldn't tell if it was a black bear or a Griz. Luckily for me the bear was even more spooked of me, and he turned and hauled ass up the ridge. I'm pretty sure it was a black bear because it wasn't that big and ran away quickly, but still....

Once I made it through the closed road gates I had the whole road to myself, save the occasional road crew truck tooling up or down the road at 25mph. It was great being ab;e to ride all over the road, and stop where ever I wanted to. I even pissed in the middle of the road just because I could. Anyhow, the road continued for at least another eight miles or so. I got to the steep grade and trudged up to near the base of the one and only switchback on the pass. I was getting pretty excited because I was really starting to gain some good altitude, when I rounded a corner and came up to a road closed to all traffic sign placed seemingly arbitrarily in the road. Bummer. I sat there for a while drinking some water and taking a breather when I road crew truck came up the road and stopped. I asked theguy in the cab how much further the road went before the construction and plowing was going on. He told me about another five miles up. I asked him if he would drive me up there just so I could see the operation. He said he could loose his job if he did that. I asked him how much that was worth to him. He laughed and shook his head. And so began the fast downhill about 15 miles back to camp.

I'm glad I took the ride though. The park is simply stunning – even more so when I was traveling down a road that wasn't clogged with 30 foot RV's and SUV's full of half-bored kids. It sounds cliché and more than a bit new age, but it really was an almost magical experience zipping up the hill almost silently on a bike, surrounded by titanic mountain features. Anyone who's been here before can attest to the feeling at least a little bit.

Tomorrow we leave the same way we came in and starting the one, maybe two day ride around the southern edge of the park along US Highway 2. I've been told that US 2 provides a fairly scenic ride anyhow, but I still wish I would have ridden over Logan Pass.

Day Thirty-one: 6/24/08

Quick update: we're about ten miles from Glacier National Park. Unfortunately, it looks like Going to the Sun Road/Logan Pass is still closed near the top, which means we're going to bypass the park to the south, (Going to the Sun Road is the only road through the park). I'm pretty bummed because I was really looking forward to that climb.... Who knew the park was going to get a huge snow storm in mid-June?

Day 28: 6/21/08

PeterB and I decided to take an off day today in Missoula, Montana. We've been riding for well over two weeks in the mountains without a day off, and my body (and I'm sure PeterB's as well), was getting pretty sore. We slept in until around 10:00a.m, which is extremely late for us these days and PeterB is currently in the middle of an hour+ long nap.

We rode over Lolo Pass on the Idaho-Montana border yesterday morning and rolled the 40 miles downhill with a headwind into Missoula in the afternoon. I made a quick film of the initial steep downhill complete with melodramatic hollering. The film doesn't do a good job of capturing how quick we're going but all I know is it was well over 35 miles an hour.



Missoula is the first stop that could be considered a real city since Eugene. Big box retailers have rarely looked so appealing, and we made visits to REI and Target. The sterile, predictable environment of these places are a bit marked after dealing almost exclusively with mom & pop establishments and greasy spoons for the past two weeks. I even visited three farmers' markets this morning within walking distance of our motel – the Bel Aire Motel – although as far as farmers' markets go, they were subpar.


We're on schedule to be in Glacier NP by Monday or Tuesday. Logan Pass/Going to the Sun Road is currently closed about 2/3 of the way up due to exceptional snow coverage on top. he park typically opens the road to cyclists for about a week before it's opened to vehicular traffic. The opening date is still up in the air, but I'm hoping that we'll hit the opening for cyclists. If not, we'll be forced to go around the park to the south, which would be unfortunate because I was really looking forward to riding Going to the Sun Road. It's a huge climb, but the views are well worth that climb.

Starting tomorrow PeterB and I will be riding without two guys that we've been leapfrogging and/or riding with since western Oregon over two weeks ago. We met a guy, Anthony, at a bike shop, (the only bike shop), in Florence, Oregon. He was just starting a solo cross-country ride via the Trans-Am route which goes to Missoula and then breaks southeast toward Wyoming and Colorado. Anthony had just graduated from THE Ohio State University, wasn't as experienced a rider as PeterB or I, and was a bit under prepared out of the gate. Most nights, however, Anthony would roll into a campsite a while after us, and would be raring to each morning. He found out that he had been accepted to Medical School the evening after the crappy Santiam Pass climb. Since then, he found out that he had no choice but to abort the majority of the ride in order to have a series of vaccinations administered before classes start. So Anthony is dropping out here at Missoula, and he is taking a Greyhound back to Ohio.

And then there is Jim.... Jim is a 55 year-old high school math teacher from Cincinnati, who, like Anthony, is in the midst of a solo TransAm ride. We met Jim in the snow on the way up Santiam Pass and have ridden with him most days since then. Jim is a real outdoor enthusiast, and has a ton of experience riding, hiking, and camping. He taught me a lot of little tricks and gave me a ton of valuable advice without even knowing it. But more importantly, he has a kind of enthusiasm for what he's doing that's infectious, and he's made my experience a lot better overall. Jim has been maintaining a very good blog on a cycle touring website. I'm adding a link to his blog. It's worth checking out - not only because there's a lot of references to PeterB and I, but because it's updated daily,and gives a good account of what the day-to-day routine typically is on a trip like this.

I'll miss Anthony and Jim, but we'll most certainly continue to meet good riders on the road.

It's supposed to rain a bit tomorrow morning, but then it's predicted to continue to be sunny for the remainder or the week. Once we get east of the Rockies we should have a nice tailwind and that means high-mileage days. We could be in Minneapolis within two weeks....

Check out the Flickr link if you're so inclined. I added all the Idaho photos, and started a Montana set.

Day Twenty-four: 6/17/08

Today did not go so well. Due to a perfect storm of circumstances we were forced to ride 90+ miles today in the face of a really strong headwind through Little Salmon River and Salmon River canyons in Idaho. It's strange when you have a fairly steep downhill grade ahead of you, yet you have to grind hard in a smallish gear just to keep moving forward due to the wind. It doesn't help that the pannier bags straddling either side of the bike act as a gigantic sail to catch the wind.

To make matters worse, I suffered two flat tires in the span of about ten minutes. There's something fishy going on with my front tire; a lot of mystery flats, but with no discernible source. I bought a backup in Baker City, just to be on the safe side. Good thing I did.... There's also something weird going on with my left hand. For some reason it's been going really numb due to the pressure of being on the handlebar all day, and it's now left virtually worthless off the bike as well. My wrist has swollen up and I can't even manipulate utensils very well. It's as though I have a hook hand.... The next rest day in Missoula should help that out.

We've been leapfrogging a group of college students from Simpson College, a California school with a serious Christian bent to it, for the past week or so. They're riding to Memphis to raise money for "African wells". They're nice people, but they're cheaters. They have a SAG wagon, (I've never been absolutely sure about what SAG stands for, but I think it's Support And Gear - anyway it's a van pulling a trailer full of food and sleeping/camping gear etc.). They carry NOTHING with them, yet we almost always pass them on the road. It's weird. The Iron-legged PeterB goes so far as to toy with them on the road; letting them catch up to him and then he darts away. They're goal is noble, but I have to ask: would Jesus have a SAG wagon? No.

Tomorrow, we tackle what looks to be the biggest climb on the ride thus far. The good news is, we're camped right at the base of it tonight, so we can work our way up in the morning when it's cool.

We've been in Idaho for two days now, and should only be here for another three days. The landscape is incredibly beautiful, (I don't have the camera with me right now to attach pictures, and I maxed out the free Flickr account. I'll rectify that situation soon.), but the people area bit odd. The Adopt-a-Highway litter control was sponsored by 'Yahweh's 666 Warning Assembly" for about 10 miles today. Really? Is this how you're going to warn me about Satan? By picking up garbage on the side of the road? The caretaker of the park we're staying at tonight told us that he knew for a fact that noted conservative radio host Michael Savage was Allen Ginsburg's gay lover back in the day. Why he told us that was unclear.

I'm exhausted right now, but very happy nonetheless. We've had a run of great weather for the past week and it looks likes it's going to continue for the foreseeable future. We also continue to meet good and interesting people, including other touring cyclists, and others who simply offer encouragement and advice. It's been nice thus far.

I'll work on getting more pictures posted soon....

Day Twenty-one: 6/14/08

Quick post today. The laptop is running low on batteries. We're in Baker City, OR. Almost to the Idaho border. There's a motorcycle rally going on here this weekend; a lot of old fat guys thinking they look tough in chaps. They don't. We climbed two passes today, with hundreds of motorcycles wizzing by. Right after cresting the second pass, Sumpter Pass, there was a guy layed out on the pavement, evidently he had been launched from his bike. He was alive, but moaning a lot. Exhibit D as to why motorcycles have deservedly been given the nickname Graveyard Ponies.

Check out the Flickr stream for some new photos, including some new ones of Santiam Pass.

One other thing: we passed the 1000 mile mark yesterday or the day before. It's hard to tell considering that neither of us have cycling computers, so that mark is fairly conservative. I wouldn't doubt it if we were closer to the 1100 or 1200 mile mark....

Day Seventeen: 6/10/08

Quick post tonight. We rode over Santiam Pass today. We left in the rain around 9:00. A few hours later at around 3000 feet the rain turned to snow, and so it stayed for the remainder of the climb up to 4700 feet... on June 10. PeterB had the camera and was only able to reel off one shot during the climb. It was so cold that if we stopped for more than a minute or two, all the sweat on our clothes would cool off and chill us badly. The climb kept up us warm with all the activity, but once we crested the pass the downhill was awful.

Without heat generated by pedaling we became wet, cold windsocks on the way down. We wound up pulling into some hoity-toity restraunt at the bottom on the climb to keep our fingers and toes tact. Lucky for us the staff was really accomdating and loaded us us with tea and soup while we dried our gear off near a fire. A huge thanks goes out to the waiter, Andy, who went out of his way for us.

After that we made it into the high desert climate of central Oregon. It was sunny and arid. Go figure. After nearly an entire week of rain on the coast, I think we're finally going to stay dry for a while.

Day Sixteen: 6/9/08

Greetings From Belknap Hot Springs, Oregon. After a 60 mile ride with a steady 1000 foot elevation gain, PeterB and I are perched at the edge of our first major climb of the Cascades. Santiam Pass peaks at a little over 4,700 feet, which is 3,700 higher than where we are right now. The good news is the climb is spread out over 25 miles so it won't be too steep. The bad news is that Santiam Pass adds about 10 extra miles of climbing over the pass we were originally going to take: MacKenzie Pass. It's been so abnormally cold in Oregon this spring that MacKenzie Pass is still closed with 200% snowpack, with no opening date in sight.

PeterB and I have been joined by new travelling partner. We met a guy, Anthony, at a bike shop in Florence, just as we were about the head inland off the coast. Anthony is a recent graduate of THE Ohio State University, and was embarking on a solo ride to Virginia via the TransAmerican Route. Since we're now riding the TransAm Route to Missoula he asked if he could ride with us and of course we said sure. He's not in shape yet, and he's riding some questionable equipment – PeterB had to fix his chain that snapped on the second day because he wasn't carrying a chain breaker – so we've spent a fair amount of time waiting for him these past few days. Anthony is riding with much less gear than either of us, so it's only a matter of time before he's kicking our asses up the hills.

The change in access to state campgrounds and facilities between our time on the coast and now as we travel inland is marked. The whole time we rode up the coast we would come across at least four state park campsites a day that charged $3 a night, and most of them had shower facilities on site. Now that's all gone, and it's been replaced by a lot of chintzy private campsites that charge an arm and a leg for the privilege of sleeping near a body of water, (hopefully not too stagnant), and a picnic table. It's not necessarily bad, but it's just not anywhere near as nice as the options we had while on the coast.

PeterB bought a new camera the other day when we got into Eugene, so new pictures will be forthcoming. It's too bad though, because missed out on a lot of good photo ops while we had no camera....

PeterB and I stayed at a hostel in Eugene where we met a very friendly couple from Ireland, and a couple of Swiss girls. Otherwise, all the Americans there were weirdos. We stayed up too late with our new foreign friends and talked about how very different the U.S. is from anywhere else in the world. There were many drinks had by all and a good number of “fookin' 'ell”s uttered from Irish lips. It was great....

Now it's time to rest up for the big climb tomorrow.

By the way, in case you haven't noticed, I've added a link to a Flickr photo stream with most of the photos that have been taken during the trip. Check the upper left hand corner of the blog.

Day Twelve: 6/5/08

Right now PeterB and I are hunkered down in a seedy motel, Captain John's Motel, in Charleston, Oregon after riding through the rain this afternoon. I've hung some lines in the room. Tents, sleeping bags, clothes are hung everywhere to air out overnight. It doesn't smell too good. We're about 60 miles south of Florence, so we have to make a break for it tomorrow rain or shine so I can get the mail drop before the post office closes for the weekend.


Bad news: the camera died the other day, so there won't be any pictures a new camera is secured. If anyone has any recommendations regarding a relatively cheap, quality point-and-shoot, they would be recommended.


PeterB and I have been playing leapfrog with two guys and a girl for the past four days. They're headed to Seattle, and then one of the guys is riding east through southern Canada. It's been nice getting to know them. I sat around a fire with them last night, had a few drinks, and ate some of their hippie food. The differences between Midwestern and West Coast sensibilities are subtle but marked, and it made for a lot slight disconnects.

But for now, I'm going to take a shower and hope everything is dried out in the morning. Awesome.

Day Ten – 6/3/08

We finally made it into Oregon yesterday. We've been averaging a shade over 50 miles a day, but that includes a few half days, so I'm not too disappointed with the average. After nine days of riding, we decided to take a rest day today. I'm not sure whether that was a good or poor decision, because it rained fairly had last night and effectively forced to stay put. Anyone who has spent more than a couple of hours holed up in a tent can attest to the strange pace life takes in tent filled with all of one's smelly gear and reading a paperback in the gray light filtered through the tent. The rain has since let up and we've dried out all our gear.

Upon arrival at the campsite last night, we met a noteworthy guy, Art, who was in the midst of a “peacewalk”, (I put in quotes because I'm not sure peacewalk is an actual noun), from Mexico to Canada. I couldn't quite figure out how walking actually promotes peace – he did give PeterB and I stickers – but I was impressed by his level of commitment. I asked him if he was going into Vancouver, to which he replied, “I can't go into Canada”. I was not surprised by that.

We spent the good part of the last three days in Humboldt County, and here are my observations regarding this almost mythical place: it's a very beautiful county with some stretches of stunning coastline and incredibly majestic old growth Redwood tree stands. It was certainly unlike any place I've ever been to. On the flip side of the coin, there were a lot of odd things going on in those woods. We rode though some fairly remote sections of the forest and I saw a truck that had recently been obliterated by shotgun fire, dead animal skins on the side of the road that had obviously been skinned by human hands, and tons of heavily gated properties – which from what I could see were usually little more than a shack, a trailer or two on blocks and ALWAYS a rusted out old VW microbus in the weeds. I'm not sure how active the hippie weed growing core still is, but we saw a number of 'hydroponic and gardening' supply shops. One other thing of note: in the 18-35-year-old male demographic there were two extremes with almost no permutation. 1) Most guys drove full sized, often Diesel, pickup trucks with huge mudder tires on them, (although there was little evidence that anyone needed them). In this day of high gas prices it was no small wonder that anyone, much less almost every young guy would drive these things, or 2) Dreadlocked and/or overalled hemp patchuli -smelling guy who drives an old Mercedes diesel, (converted to bio-diesel now). No in between that I saw......

We've decided to make a break eastward toward Eugene once we get to Florence, OR, about 175 miles north of here. The headwinds have been fairly brutal and we both figured we'd have a better time riding when the winds are helping up going east as opposed to hindering us going north. The new route will take us to Missoula, MT, were we'll head a little further north to hook up with our original route. The new maps should be in Florence for us to pick on Friday.

Some German tourists are trying to ask me something. I have to go....