WWR: Trail Notes: Post 2

Day 6:  N. Fork to Trout Creek CG: 7 miles into Segment 2 of WWR

Dang- today was a lot harder than I anticipated.  Looking at the topo it looked pretty chill- still 5500’ of climbing but nothing super steep.  A big part of today was the heat, in the 90s, and I ate too much lunch and wanted to barf for a good 20 miles.

The night was cold and humid wet- you know how it doesn’t rain but everything is soaked from condensation.  My phone and backup battery died so I was left with my undistracted mind keeping me awake in awe at the brightness of the moon and the lack of moose that were visiting.

Finally rising, packing, and getting rolling I found Molly and Skylar a mile down the road.  Our plans to rendezvous last night were no match for mother nature’s complex landscape.  After chatting with them as they problem solved Skylars still leaking rear tire (leading hypothesis: broken spoke had trashed the rim tape as evidenced by soap bubbles around lots of spoke connections) I wished them a wonderful adventure and set out.  They would be leaving Segment 1 today to find a way into Missoula and get some bike repairs done.

A few miles later I found myself at the western terminus of the famous Hiawatha Trail.  This rails-to-trails Route has become a major tourist attraction, with shuttles dropping people off at the high end and picking them up at the low.  The draw is understandable- beautiful, slightly slopes downward, beautiful trellised bridges, tons of informative displays, and most importantly TUNNELS!  Being at the end of the tourist route so early I had the trail to myself for a long time, so I found myself stopping to read the displays and take pictures.  Going the opposite direction of the tourists it was a constant grind up though, not hard but not easy.  By the time I reached the tourist’s starting point the I had passed probably a few hundred people on bikes, which is really awesome.  I remember thinking that whoever is renting these bikes really needs to put some lube on those chains...

Finally at the “top” I entered the big tunnel, over a mile long.  Pitch black.  Except for the dozens and dozens of rental bikes with shoddy lights coming at me in the darkness.  What made it super fun not fun was that the tunnel was soaking, with streams coming out of the ceiling all over and a small man-made Creek gulley running on each side, making the 10’ wide path incredibly muddy.  That would explain why everyone was wearing those cool poncho thingies.  The tunnel was sloped down in my direction, allowing me to kick it pretty fast.  Too fast, as I got a lot of mud in my face and eyes, forcing me to slow down and minimize the front wheel spray.  

Exiting the tunnel and into the bright light I found myself surrounded by well over a hundred people getting ready to start the trek, and that I and my bike were covered solidly in fine grit mud.  I think a bunch of moms turned around upon seeing me to grab a poncho while tons of littles got way more excited about the tunnel.

Without stopping I continued, as the trail keeps going down for ever and ever.  The next forever got worse and worse as the trail condition degraded.  Today is the first day my butt hurts, not due to skin rawness, but from getting pounded by the rough 4-wheelered trail.  Despite it being downhill for almost 30 miles (minus a 6 mile interlude) it was so rough that I had to work like pedaling up.  

10 miles down the trail my bike now sounded like a Huffy you pull out of a dumpster with intentions of fixing it up, just like those tourists’ bikes had sounded.  The tunnel mud had done a number on my bike.  Where the road crossed the river and Interstate I stopped for a snack and washed my bike and self in the river.  Glad I brought the handkerchief- super helpful in many ways.  

I eventually got to the end of that crap trail and into the bustling town (highway tourist exit fed crossroads) of St. Regis on some blessedly wonderful pavement.  I set up shop in a tiny burger and shake joint, charging my stuff, and started gorging myself on delicious fried foods.  It was great to get service and say hi to everyone at home.  

I stuck around there as long and I could, rolled to the post office, became quickly overwhelmed by all the cars and rvs and people and honking and whirring that I felt the urge to pedal as hard as I could and escape.

But the rest of the day I followed the highway.  And it was hot.  I wanted to throw up my lunch.  I ran out of water.  Blah.  The roads were good though, and I made relatively decent time to the last stop of Segment 1 in Superior.  I lazily grocery shopped for the next 2 days and took my time in the shade before officially starting Segment 2 and heading to camp 7 miles SW of town.

At 79 miles down I wasn’t super stoked to find the campground full.  I suppose it is Friday night, fairly close to a large population center (Missoula), on a beautiful weekend....

Evidently I was spoiled these last few days having the wilds to myself.  I hope I get them back soon here...

I may or may not be camping tonight in the back corner of the day use area... 

Day 7: Trout Creek CG to Weitas Creek CG: 62 mi : 5700’

Thunder woke me up.  So I went back to sleep.  Still thundering, but no rain yet.  Hmm... should probably get out and see what’s up.  Out of the tent I see massive, dark thunderheads to the north, moving fast east, and blue skies to the south.  Having a large pass to climb right away I would love to not do it in a thunderstorm.  I pack and am getting the final buckles clipped when the rain starts, so I roll quickly to the bathroom and finish up under the entrance awning.  The rain is heavy but short lived.   I begin today’s climb to the pass with a new set of dark clouds rolling in from the west.

Rain, sun, rain, sun as tiny but intense storm cells roll over my path. Spin, rest, drink, spin, pee, spin... and two hours and 50 minutes later I’ve made it a whole 18 miles!  With 3600’ of climbing along the way that went quickly with the changing weather on good gravel roads.  At the top it was nothing but blue skies to the west in Idaho.  The mosquitos at the pass were those little hard to see ones that move to fast. And lots of them, so I ate half a chocolate bar while pacing around then started the descent.

Ten miles never went so fast.  It was paved and I rarely went under 30.  Then began 20 miles of one of my favorite stretches thus far.  Descending along the river a single lane gravel road hugged the steep cliffs.  Rocky outcropping of dark, sparkly metamorphic schist alternated with dense stretches of massive white cedars providing much needed shade, while the upper reaches of the valley was a patchwork of trees and new growth from a fire not too long ago.  The fly fisherman outnumbered the fish I’m pretty sure.  The further down in the elevation the bigger the river got, and the tiny road maintained its small habit.  Dropping further the air dried out as the temps climbed and the cedars were replaced by firs and pines.  After yesterday’s people infested, Interstate paralleling Route this was sheer pleasure.

Coming to a forest service work camp, with cold water to offer travelers, the road joined another, widening to match the river’s size.  

I stopped and checked out a sweet suspension bridge at 4th of July Trailhead, and Noe Creek CG (which was nice and quiet), until finally coming to the old bridge that crossed the river to tonight’s camp at Wietas CG.  I found a site right along the river, ditched my stuff and immediately went and sat in the cold water.  The sun was beating, my little bike computer registering temps in the 90s, and that water felt amazing.  For dinner- peanut butter tortillas.  I now wish I had bought that bag of chips.

I have been biking for a week now.  I am not tired of biking, or camping, or living simply with the few things I can carry on my bike.  Thus far I am beyond happy with how this trip has gone.  My legs have had no troubles handling this non-MN terrain.  My rear is not a pile of raw ground beef- far from it despite the heat to my surprise.  The Lantiseptic I have been using, half a little pouch per day, along with a good anti-bacteria wipe down each night seems to be doing the trick.  I must also give credit to the Twin-Six Bibs and Selle-Anatomical Saddle too. My Fargo is a damn machine.  It feels solid and controls so well.  The wheels and dynamo hub appear to be holding strong, with no sign of being out of true despite some fast and rough descents. I am glad I brought the small hydration bag, even though I don’t like the constant sweat on my back.  I appreciate the mental freedom it gives me being able to carry and access easily water.  And it will hold ALL THE FOOD I am going to buy tomorrow.  So what would I do different?

Day 8: Wietas CG to Maggie’s Butte: 73 miles: 7400’

Sitting in Miss Lilly’s Gold Rush Saloon in Pierce, ID drinking a beer in and enjoying the respite from the sun.  It’s the only place open at noon on a Sunday.  There are 6 people here, and only 5 cars total parked along Main Street, being less than half a mile long and truly the only street of the town.  This is a logging town- a real one, not like the tourist ones you might find along the interstate.  Where lining the street are businesses closed today, their employees tired from a week of hard work that does not include decorative landscaping.  Just outside town heavy machinery rests idle in a clear cut, logs stacked for future loading.  Food arrives, country music is a bit too loud, the staff friendly as I excitedly eat this massive burger.

The night was spotted with thunderstorms, my tent wet only on its outside.  The morning was cool with clouds keeping the suns warmth at bay.  I felt a desire to move out quickly in case more rain comes, as packing up wet or while getting wet ruins a morning.  

The small road I had descended yesterday had gotten fairly large at this point.  But a few miles downriver I turned left and began my way up a small tributary.  This was wonderful.  Again, a tiny ribbon of gravel following the contours of the river and steep rock walls.  This rock was much lighter than yesterday’s.  The giant cedars returned in the cool narrow river way.  The ride was pleasant.  Evidently people like to mine along this river.  Not strip mine or huge operations, but dudes in pickup trucks and atvs can make a mining claim for a section of river and, if my eyes serve me correctly, they sit in the river with some fancy looking machinery and pan for.... gold?  One mining claims stated name was “Granny Bacon”.  

The climb up this tributary to French Pass was chill, as the top miles were paved and the slope not too bad.  I could spin without stopping and resting.  Near the top I met a touring cyclist going the opposite direction.  He was been riding for a few weeks, starting in Boise, following bits of the WWR, heading to a reunion, and somehow needs to be back in Boise mid-September.  He was super chill, and old, and said shit a lot.  I liked him.

The pass can and went and I descended 10 miles into Pierce for lunch and a resupply for the next 1.5 days.   I got cheese and pepperoni for dinner- no more peanut butter for this guy.  

The next 15ish miles to Lolo Creek CG went quickly through rolling pasture and timber operations.  The sun wS intense, so I put my sun sleeves on.  They work, but the magic they use to make your arms feel cool while the rest of you body is hot and angry is kinda weird to mentally come to terms with.  I’ll take that over sunburn though. The descent along Lolo Creek was paved and picturesque and there were cows wearing actual cow bells.  But the Campground was full.  So I pooped and continued on.  

Not really considering how this landscape was much different than prior days, I made the assumption that it would be easy to find a place to camp.  Nope.  River and stream valleys are steep and loose, providing no nice bars to camp on.  Then I entered all private lands and was surrounded by barb wire and signs threatening me with “the law”.  For miles and miles I could find nothing that suited me.  Sure, I could set up my tent on a wide spot along the road but that seemed out of class for this trip, especially given how busy the paved road was.  

Finally the route turned off the paved and entered timber property.  Freshly worked.  Roads washed out.  It was rough going.  And up.  Had to walk the bike a bunch due to the steepness and looseness.  And no water.  But, being out of the trees and climbing higher and higher onto what the map calls Maggie’s Butte I found myself enjoying an amazing view.  Despite being pretty darn tired and super hot in the sun with no shade to retreat to, the view was beautiful.  I could see for tens of miles to the South and West.  It would be an amazing sunset to watch.  At about mile 20 I came to the top of the Butte and found a protected spot where state land begins and the trees return to set up camp.  It’s along the side of the road, but there will be no one up here I’m thinking.  A hummingbird scoped out my bright, drying bike shorts- evidently not impressed with my crotch odor.  I am tired, but camping here...this feels good.

I went to check out the sunset.  Walked up the hill into the clear cut.  Cowbells clanking away below me.  It’s like the Idaho Alps.

Day 9: Maggie’s Butte to Red River: 74 mi : 8780’

Being ahead 20 miles of my scheduled itinerary, I found myself getting up early with the bright sun wondering how far I could make it today.  An eventful night, quiet for the first time I can remember with no water nearby, I was packed and rolling by 7:30 in some time zone.  

Adventure riding is best done early, and the southeast descent of Maggie’s Butte didn’t disappoint.  It was one of those routes where you had to keep checking your gps because it didn’t look like a route, with trees down, wildflowers everywhere, boulders and grass and branches to duck, and the roughest 4”-6” cobbled old logging road you could imagine.   But it was mostly downhill, my legs were fresh, and the morning sun kept my spirits high as I negotiated these challenges with a loaded rigid framed bike.  I eventually spit out onto an actual gravel road and flew down for another few miles until encountering a “Road Closed” sign.  Looking at the gps, that was the only way I could go.  Onwards!

For a car, yes the road would have been closed thanks to Mother Nature’s efforts to reclaim that graveled road.  Massive sections of the road were slumping down the slope, leaving cracks like an earthquake would.  A slope from above had slid down and completely covered the road.  And at one point the entire road was gone thanks to a massive flood and mudslide compliments of a creek that was not given due credit by the road engineers.  Luckily all of these were passable by bike, and I soon found myself on Hwy 12 paralleling upstream the wide Clearwater River.  Being early on a Monday it was quiet, with a small shoulder I appreciated this, and 15 miles later I had traveled up the Selway River and crossed it at the O’Hara Campground.  

It was 9:15 am, 30 miles down, and I was already at my days destination.  It was cool and early, so I decided to head up.  By up I mean holy cow up.  This would be he biggest climb of the trip.  From 1500’ in elevation on the Selway to 6300’ 28 miles later on a gravel road... I settled in for the long haul.  Thankfully the sky was fairly cloudy and the suns intense energy-sucking heat was kept a bay.  I started out with 15 minute pushes, followed by a short standing break- a big improvement over my prior abilities on this trip.  This kept my pace decent and the monotony at bay.  The road was good- small, windy, beautiful, shaded, and of well packed gravel usually.

About half way up I ran into a couple from Colorado who were also doing the WWR.  We all rejoiced in meeting each other, quite surprised that it had happened given the newness of the route.  We rode together for quite awhile and this made the time pass much quicker.  They were riding full-suspension bikes and loaded more than I, also with lower gear in for climbing, so eventually I had to pull away as the steep slope and my smallest gear required me to maintain a faster pace.  Nearing the top, I felt exhausted.  I had been climbing for hours now and my legs definitely were feeling tired.  With no official pass marked, I stopped at what my gps said was the route’s high point and rested and ate my “you made it” candy bar.  After 20 minutes and no sign of the two yet I decided to continue down the 12 miles into the town of Eagle, wanting to get there before the grocery store closed.  Weird hours in some of these towns.

The descent was fast and beautiful, although the road was washboarded and loose so I spent a lot of time riding the brakes.  Making it to town and finding the convenience store/grill/gas station/ice cream shop I stocked up on a 13 year old boys dream menu of pop-tarts, fruit pies, chips, cookies, and Cheese-it’s.  This needed to last me for two days.  Just as I finished the two rolled in and we decided to have some dinner together.  They are both educators and it was super fun needing out with them about our thoughts on what’s best for kid while letting the beer numb the ache in our legs.  We parted ways as they planned to stay in town somewhere (not sure where as this is a small and isolated town) while I wanted to hurry  few miles south to where public land reappeared before the rain I noticed to the west arrived.  I’m not camped along the Red River just off the fairly quiet paved road.  The rain is moving in, but camp is set and I find my tent incredibly comfortable after sucks long day.

I paved the question the other day of what would I not bring.  I have been thinking about this.  Thoughts:

• Extra pair of socks
• Wind jacket
• Bright front bike light

Some things I WILL bring: 

• Full sized handkerchief for bike cleaning- picked one up yesterday- it’s been much easier to clean with
• Diff bike lock- my zip lock locking mechanism isn’t working
• Extra pair of lounging shorts
• Different place to mount my bear spray

Day 10: Red River to Deep Creek CG : 72 mi : 10,300’

Today was hard, but proud hard.  After 12 hours of riding I am happily laying in my wet from last night tent, hiding from the bajillion no-see-ums, and eating cheddar, pepperoni, and Cheese-It mini sandwiches.  

It rained a lot last night, but everything that was supposed to stay dry did.  Having an unspoken goal in my mind of trying to make it super far today I got up early and packed in the fog.  Rolling by 7, following the gentle upslope of the Red River, the sun began to burn away the fog and a beautiful morning revealed itself.  A skilled bald eagle flew over my head with a fish in its grasp... jealous I was.  Not of the fish, but how cool would it be to fly and catch fish with your feet!

After 10 miles I reached the beginning of the McGruder Corridor.  There’s a lot of history behind this pathway- you can google it.  There were also a lot of warning signs about how involved those driving the road would find it: 8 hours for 113 miles.  What does that mean for a bike?  The road started out wide, loose gravel indicating heavy use.  It was steep, immediately beginning the first climb from 1,500’ to 6,200.  I settled into my spinning and went onwards.  About 15 minutes up I ran into another bicyclist and we chatted for awhile.  My mind has passed on his name but he was super excited to ride the McGruder.  Eyeing his bike I was mentally worried for his success, as his city cruiser would not fair well if the road turned bad.  Looking back now, my Fargo barely got me through it!  But he has a friend supporting him with an ATV so I am sure it all worked out well for him.  

I made it to the top of this first climb around noon I think.  Sitting on the road viewing the massive views through the burnt forest I ate tons of food.  3 trucks rolled by, and some dirt touring motorcycles- all with looks of worry on their faces.  So far the road was great.

He descent to Poet Creek CG was great for the first 1000’, then it turned on me and every descent until 7pm would be the same.  Steep, washed out, rutted, with loose rocks, sand, cobbles up to 8” across littered the road.  All the way to the bottom of the descent I rode my brakes, kept my ass out of the seat, and tried to use my legs to absorb as much of the madness that my fully rigid bike frame delivered.

Refilling water I started up the next climb.  Almost  3000’ vertical in less than 8 miles.  My cadence dropped to under 80 even in my lowest gear- putting my legs in prime cramp zone if I kept it up.  The trail going up was just as bad going down a bit ago.  So I walked.  I walked a lot.  It took me well over 2 hours to make it to the top.  Walking felt good though, and I averaged 2.6 mph as compared to 4.8 spinning.  But I had some serious doubts about the rest of the day.  Could I make it through 4 passes today? 

Fast forwarding to 6pm I made it to the highest point at 8200’ on the 4th Pass of the day.  The last two weren’t as steep as the second in general, but I did find myself walking when the grade kicked it up.  The last pass was amazingly beautiful.  A road curving around the northwest side of a massive dome of granite with views stretching to distant mountains.  At the high point I downed a cookie and a fudge pop tart, out on a layer and started the 5000’ descent.  The first 3000’ were bone rattling and cautious, maxing out at maybe 16 mph while squeezing the brakes as they screamed, navigating/dodging the scary path of body destroying rocks.  I was so worried about my squealing brakes that I stopped and took off my rear wheel to check the pads- seemed alright though.  Finally at a commercial outfitters turnoff the road improved and I let it fly- kinda.  Still had to be on my toes and able to stop or dodge random rocks and erosion controls, but it went much faster and more enjoyably.  All the way to the bottom, joining the Selway River from yesterday morning again but in much smaller form, and heading up stream 4 miles to tonight’s camp as the sun sets behind the river valleys high walls.

Some random things: I’ve eaten 3 packages of poptarts today.  I mixed up the raspberry and chocolate so it’s like a surprise when I peel open the silver wrapper.  And, I saw a tree fall over all by itself.  Freaked me out.