Day 3: Tuesday 6/21: 68 miles

Almost Perfect Day
The rain stopped sometime in the night.  I rose at 6, and began the slow process of packing all the wet things.  One whole fork bag full of wet stuff.  The clouds were low and dark, but the sun was peeking out here and there.  

Almost out of food I ate two bars, getting down 500 calories with the help of some warm watered down instant coffee.  I wheeled my bike over to the water spigot and cleaned the drive train as best to could.  Finished loading at rolled out at 7:30, hoping to get an early jump on this first pass.

Both knees ached.  Right over the kneecap.  Nothing to worry about , yet.  The climbing started right away into the foothills leading away from Holland Lake.  My left foot refused to lock into its pedal.  I stopped and found one of the cleat bolts had wiggled itself half loose.  Glad I caught it before it escaped into the woods of Montana.

I made good time.  Settling into a groove and enjoying the beautiful skies emerging and the lack of rain, this stretch was beautiful.  

I arrived at the base of the main climb, ate another bar, and started the climb.  The morning was still cool and humid, my gloves wet with yesterdays rain and the mornings condensation.  My Garmin bike computer get a bit glitchy with all the moisture, but I seemed to get it straightened out.  Spinning my way up, the sun emerged and the temps gradually climbed, the air sweet with the smells of a warming wet forest.

My Garmin said take a hard right.  I looked at it, even rode 50 feet up it and back down.  Something didn’t feel right, but Captain Garmin insisted that this hard right up an overgrown used-to-be-a-trail was the way to go.  So I went.

For an hour I bushwhacked through what used to be a two-track road.  1.6 miles of wishing I had shin guards, lifting my bike over fallen trees, and trudging through boggy, willow thickets.  At mile 1.6 it stopped feeling right.  I should have been going up hill.  But I was descending.  I checked my Garmin for the billionth time, and this time finally noticed that the Garmin had rerouted me as a Commute, finding a new, “better” way to something.  

You know how when you mess up so bad but there is no one to express your frustration to except for yourself, so you just start yelling?  Yeah.  If there were any bears around, they definitely knew they was there.

I angrily turned around and beat my way back to the road.  Fixed the Garmin.  Ate my last remaining bar, and began the climb again.   And it was so good!  Good gravel.  Nice slope so that I could spin mostly.  It was absolutely beautiful climbing out of the valley.  Around 6000’ the first patch of snow appeared along the side of the road.

500’ vertical from the top the pass the route did a hard u-turn onto a well worn single track path.  200’ vertical from the top snow covered the path.  Time to start pushing.   

And pushing.  The soft, angled snow slope was slippery and frustrating to make progress with on.  Pushing and pulling, keeping the rear tire from sliding downwards, while fighting with slippery foot placement and trying not to fall over, it was not the greatest. 

Came around the bend of the pass to finally see into the next valley, and saw snow stretching for as far as I could see along the descent.  45 minutes of pushing and I finally emerged onto single track that was free enough to ride down.

Finally, the descent rocked.  For miles I didn’t pedal, applying the brakes only when my speeds exceeded my ability to control the bike over the quickly passing terrain.   This made it all worth it.  Into Seeley , the first town in three days, I pulled up to a Dairy Queen-esque food establishment and ordered a burrito, hot dog, and coffee.  Ate that, then got a vanilla frozen yogurt and French fries and ate all that while finally getting a chance to check in with Sarah.

I rolled a mile down the highway to the single grocery store and stocked up on food for two days, giving me the freedom to respond to whatever adventure was thrown my way.  I finally headed out of town at 3:30, 28 miles to Ovando.

The first 10 miles went smoothly.  While the gravel was torn up the grade was gentle climbing the first half of the route to Ovando.  The sky was beautiful and the temps perfect.  For the first time I put on sunscreen.

Stopping for water just after the first climb two NOBO riders pulled up and gave some encouraging feedback- there would be no other snow south of here.  Canadians, who bailed on starting in the north after hearing about the madness that unfolded at the start of the Tour Divide Race and instead started near Yellowstone and rode north.

A little more climbing and then the massive descent down for miles into Ovando.  It was absolutely beautiful, the gravel smooth and fast, the late afternoon sun casting golden light, temperatures perfect, and few bugs.

Pulling into Ovando earlier than I expected, I was greeted by the famous tipi and covered wagon and immediately invited to go grab a bite to eat with two other riders.

Tonight there are at least 10 riders camping here.  It was fascinating to hear everyone’s stories.  Some people are road touring.  Some are northbound on the GDMBR, while others are southbound.  Some started riding a month ago from the Mexico border.  Some are travel nurses or school administrators or defense attorneys.  We enjoyed a fire, and slowly drifted off to our tents after a day of riding.

Today was almost perfect.