Day 2: Monday 6/20

Day 2: 6/20: 36 miles

Rain.

It started sometime in the early morning and it hasn’t let up since.  My efforts last night to stage packing worked well.  I emerged from the tent only once to pee and grab my hanging bear bag of food.  Covered head to toe and packed as much as I could be in the tent, I emerged into the rain and began loading the bike.  Rain gear traps freeze-dried rice n beans farts way too well.

Packing went quickly and I stayed dry.  But no matter what you do your tent gets soaked when you knock it down.

At 9 I began pedaling, warm from moving and packing, and quickly getting warmer as I was welcomed with a god climb heading south from my roadside camp.

Biking in the rain is a sensory overload.  Not only am I trying to navigate a muddy, pothole and puddle filled steep forest service road, but I’m inundated with wetness creeping in slowly but surely from every spot it possibly could.  My brain was on overload as my face was constantly dripping sweat and rain, and each attempt at wiping it away only left my face wetter from a sopping mitten.  Tricking you is your own sweat as you become wet from the inside, leaving you questioning if the rain is or isn’t getting in.

Smart gear choices: water proof socks and mittens.  A rain jacket whose hood is big enough to go over the helmet.  Low-shoe gaiters to keep mud and debris out of the shoes as it sprayed all over.  And. Lots of waterproof bags.  It was mentally comforting knowing that most of my stuff was dry for the future.  

Bad gear choices:  soft—shell rain pants whose knees are not waterproof, leaving your knees cold and the water to squish in your knee pit with each pedal stroke.  

Moving was slow.  I was cold.  The Garmin read 45 degrees, and the rain never stopped.  On the climbs I was comfortable, but I could feel the sweat dripping down my back, soaking me from the inside.  On the descents I started to freeze as the wind cut through my rain jacket and thin long sleeve wool shirt.  

If ought stopping to add another layer, fearing that I would get too wet and cold if I stopped and any layer I did get out would just get wet in the process.  But eventually, I could tell that I was getting too cold and needed to do it.  Quickly, I stripped off the Camelback and rain coat, dug out my synthetic jacket (yay for not down!), and put everything back on.  Immediately warmer.  Keep spinning.

Progress was slow.  The gravel was soft and required a high degree of attention to navigate along so as to not plunge into a pot hole of hidden depth.  Most often it worked best to ride right in the stream that formed on either side of the track, where the water had washed away the soft material and left behind harder gravel.  Wet.  Everything was wet.

Today was supposed to be a 69 miles day, with a big 2500’ climb at the end before dropping into Seeley Lake.  The thought of a hot meal in town was motivating.  But I was getting colder, and even pedaling I seemed to be less able to generate heat.  

Formulating a game plan, I decided to stop at mile 36, about halfway, and get hot food at the Holland Lake Lodge.  Taking a break from the rain. Getting a chance to warm up.  These were positive thoughts and I set that as my goal.

I finally hit pavement, knowing I only had a few miles left.  I felt like I should be going faster than I was.  I’d been at it for 4 hours now.  I’d done well drinking and had forced myself to eat a bar 2 hours ago.  But I was feeling drained.

I rolled past the campground at Holland Lake and almost missed the sign.  Tacked to the campground sign was a small sheet of paper in a plastic covering stating “GDMBR riders, the Holland Lodge is closed until Tuesday at noon.”

Today is Monday.  My hopes of a hot meal were dashed, and more worrisome I didn’t know how much longer I could fight off the cold.  I immediately started looking for shelter in the campground.  Behold, the infamous park service concrete biffy, complete with covered entry way and bikers favorite poop smelling hangout.

I wheeled my bike in and enjoyed taking a moment to be out of the rain.  My body temp immediately started to plummet as i snacked on trail mix and I began to shiver.  I couldn’t feel my fingers.  Taking stock quickly, I knew that I didn’t have much time to get hot drink in me and out of these wet clothes.  I unpacked my stove and fire it up.  Still in rain gear, I found the water spigot and filled my pot.  While water heated I stripped all my upper layers off, my body steaming in the cold air.  I cracked open my bike bags and put on every single upper layer I could find.  Over that I put on wet synthetic jacket, knowing the only way it would dry would be with my own body heat over time.

I downed one cup of lukewarm coffee, but the shakes returned quickly, so on went another pot.  I patiently waited for the water to get almost boiling, then savored the hot cup in my freezing hands.  Feeling return, and the shivers dissipated.

Comfortable, and with a dry upper body, I assessed the current state of things and thought about what would be the best course of action.  My legs were cold, still covered in soaked rain gear, socks, and shoes.  I need to get those off.  I really want to lay down, but this bathroom floor is nasty, even outside in the covered entry.  I decided to officially take over the bathroom as my camp spot.  I would lay down my tents ground tarp, which is soaking, and then put my sleeping pad over that, allowing me to keep my sleeping bag dry and giving me the opportunity to really warm up.  Officially, I was done for the day at mile 36.

The park host didn’t like that plan.  So no sleeping pad.  He seemed cool with me chilling here until the rain abated and I could get my tent set up.  It’s been over 4 hours now that I’ve been sitting here and the rain hasn’t stopped.  My wet stuff hangs all over the bathroom.  The poop smell only wafts my direction every once in awhile.

I changed out of my wet lower layers into my shorts and long underwear.  Soon I will cook dinner- I have one more dehydrated meal left.  I will need to do a food restocking tomorrow for sure.

The rain doesn’t seem to want to stop.  I’m holding out as long as I can to put up m tent.  It is soaking wet and I’m nervous about getting soaked again just in the act of setting it up.  So I figure I’ve got one shot to do it to minimize my exposure to the rain.  Crawling into the sleeping bag sounds really nice right now though.

I’m now half a day behind schedule.  Fingers crossed that it stops raining soon, at least before I have to get going tomorrow.  Today was rough.  The cold really did sneak up on me.  But I’m glad that I chose to stop when I did.  Had I continued onwards blindly, I would have been in an even worse spot.

—-

The rain took a break at 6 and I was able to set up and make the move to camp while dinner rehydrated in my bathroom haven.  Finally laying down, the rains have continued again.  I’m not even going to bother with the wet stuff I hung up on a line… it can’t get any wetting than it already was.  Assuming I can wake up to no-rain tomorrow, I feel good about having enough dry stuff to get rolling comfortably.   

Listening to the smattering of drops on the tent fly, I’m appreciative of warmth, dry shelter, cozy sleeping bags, and effective waterproofing for old tent flies.