Day 1: Sun 6/19: 81 miles

The train was right on time last night and I was much more efficient in getting my bike and self ready to roll from the station in Whitefish than last year.  The short few miles to Whitefish State Park passed quickly as the sun set late.  There was only one other tent in the hiker/biker campsites and I was able to get camp set before darkness arrived.  Laying down, my body was not ready to be still after having done so for 24 hours on the train, but my brain so wanted to sleep given the crappy sleep that had or hadn’t happened on the train.  Suddenly the whole campground was filled with a shaking, I could feel it in my chest even, as a massive freight train rolled past on the tracks hidden in the woods not more than 100 feet away.  It would be a long night.

Rain splatting on the tent coincided with my alarm in the morning.  So I ignored it an went back to sleep.  Eventually the rain stopped and I began the day.  I took my time packing.  Moved the bear spray to a fork mounted position.  Made coffee.  Are a Pop-tart.  It was nice not being in a rush.  Thee clouds hung low, motivating me to not go fast, hoping the sun would push them away.

Around 9:30 I began riding.  Rolling back through Whitefish I officially hopped onto the Great Divide Mtn Bike Route and began to pedal through the wide, lush valley lands dominated by ranches, most of which I think were faux given how fancy they all were.  A stop in Columbia Falls for some lunch and snacks.  Pavement guided me for the first 45 miles, weaving eventually up into the foothills of the surrounding mountains and into Ferndale.  Along the way I passed two fellow riders, a couple with quite a few years on me, and exchanged stories quickly on the side of the road.  They had started in Jasper 18 days ago and had gotten stuck in the snow, eventually taking advantage of the opportunity to be evacuated and shuttled down to Whitefish.  They seemed tired, not from biking but from dealing with all the negatives they had encountered.

I forced myself to stop for 30 minutes to eat, drink, and rest at the Ferndale fire station.  My legs were feeling the massive switch in requested effort and work compared to the last week… and they weren’t happy.  It felt good, even as a stray rain cloud started to sprinkle above.  Up to then, the rain had avoided me.

The next 35 miles would finally take me off the pavement and into gravel as I tackled my first big climb.  2000 ft in 5 miles isn’t crazy, but we don’t have that in Minnesota and I surely hadn’t been able to train for that.  Coming out of Ferndale I started the steep climb and found a groove that worked.  I surely wasn’t fast, but I made progress and my legs didn’t spasm into uncontrollable cramps.  Just don’t look at your speed and it’s all fine.

It took about an hour to make it to the top.  And going down made it all worth it.  It was so incredibly fun bombing down that single lane gravel road with the trees flying by.  I’d only seen 1 car thus far.  The road was mine as I flew down the grade.

The next 25 miles we’re a bit of a grind.  Rolling forest service gravel road winding through beautiful forests, muddy and potholed kept my mind busy and off my hurting legs.  They were ready to be done.  Somewhere along there I caught up with David, a TDR (Tour Divide Racer) who had also gotten stuck up north in the snows and had to be evacuated.  He was loaded down with a lot of gear, and mosquitos were insane so we didn’t chat much before I pulled ahead.

I finally made it to the turnoff for the campground I planned on staying at around 6pm.  One last big downhill took me to the bottom of the valley, only to find the campground completely flooded.  I could see the tops of a few picnic tables, but the river was well over its banks and the land all around was turned into swamp for the meantime.  Evaluating the location and other options, I decided to huff it back up the big hill to rejoin the route and head a few miles further.  Luckily I passed some locals mountain biking and asked them for some beta, which confirmed that the location I had in mind would be a good goal.  

A few miles later I rolled up to a massive earthmover parked in a clearing next to a bridge over a clear flowing creek.  Finally… camp.

My legs are toast, but seemed to recover well as I cooked dinner.  While I had cell service earlier I checked the forecast to confirm what I hoped wouldn’t be true.  Tonight rain would start around 2 am and not stop for a good 18 hours. My goal tonight has been preparing as best I can to make packing tomorrow as painless as possible.  No matter what I’m going to get wet, but it’d be nice to keep most of my gear dry so when it does stop I have something to change into.  At least it isn’t raining tonight.  I’m a little nervous about getting cold with the low temps and never ending rain tomorrow, but it’ll all work out.

The grouse are angry that I’m camped here.  I’d rather listen to them than a train though.