Day 4: Wed 6/22: 62.1 Ovando to Llama Ranch

The fire went late last night and the streetlight was brighter than the stars of the past few evenings, which all together made sleep hard to come by.

Rising at 6, but feeling cold and wet from condensation in my tent I pushed my wake-up time back to 6:30.

I decided to forgo the prepared breakfast, opting for coffee and a Serrano wrapped cinnamon role from the Ovando store across the way once they opened at 7.  I balanced my prep time between packing my bike and trying to finish drying stuff in the morning sun that was still wet from Monday’s long rain.  The sky was clear and the sun’s rays intense as the bike slowly found itself loaded once again.  Best part of the morning was pooping in a heated, flush toilet. 

Rolling out early before most of the other riders, I headed into the flats south and east of Ovando, formed by what I think was the Blackfoot River.  Fly fisherman, with the funny clothing and oddly shaped boats, and coolers of beer, seemed to be everywhere.

The morning miles went quickly across the valley to the base of the first pass for the day.  Entering the National Forest, the climb went quickly and without any ridiculous Garmin re-routes.  I was at the top of the 2000’ climb in just over an hour and 40 minutes.  

While climbing my mind fixated on how wonderful handkerchiefs are.  I have 3.  A black one that is for cleaning my drive chain.  A light tan bikepacking.com one that I wrap all my tools in, which then gets wrapped in the black one.  This way if I need to doing maintenance I am ready to deal with dirty hands and muck but I don’t lose all the little parts because I keep everything on the tan on.  The third I keep somewhere in my cockpit for wiping sweat off my face in hot days.  It gets gross, but it’s better than letting salty sweat deep into my eyes.

Descending was a blast- good gravel, gentle slopes, smooth grading- I unleashed the brakes and just let the bike fly.  From dense pine forest and back into ranch lands, the change came fast as my bike sped down from the pass.  The Cutthroat seriously is an amazing bike.

Dropping into the next big valley I rolled into the town of Lincoln.  Riding past a motel I noticed the trademark sign of GDMBR bikers and stopped to chat.  A group of older gentlemen, 5 I think, who had been doing the GDMBR in parts together offer the last few years, something that I hope to be able to do also in my 60s and 70s.  The provided valuable beta on crossing the Great Basin,relieving my anxiety about that looming obstacle in a weeks time.

And they recommended a place to grab lunch, the Pit Stop, which I did.  There I was able to get Wi-Fi and check in with the world, which was a good thing to do given the last few days varying adventures.

Rolling out of Lincoln at 1 I started the gentle but ever increasing climb towards the next pass.  The would be the tallest and steepest yet.  The winds were at my back, and the first few miles flew by over the barely inclined route.   Slowly, it got steeper as the road become more and more enclosed by pines, until taking a hard right the real steep began.

The last few miles took a long time.  My right knee was hurting a lot by now, and even the short sections of walk-a-bike didn’t provide a break from the pain.   

Climbing higher, the proportion of biking to pushing slowly switched, and for the last 1.5 miles I just gave up and pushed my bike up the loose, worn, narrow 2-track that at times hit a 10% grade.  It was slow going.  I got in the habit of counting 60 steps at a time so as to keep my mind distracted and not focused on the screaming from my knee.

Finally, around 3:30 pm, I made the pass at around 6800’. 

The  descent was much like the climb.  Lose and steep, such that I had to take brakes to give my hands a rest from squeezing the brake levers so much and for so long.  It slowly eased up and again. Could just let the bike go free.  If only Minnesota had mountains like this, where the descents stretched so long you forgot about all the different parts of it.

The valley opened up and immediately the Llama Ranch announced itself with a huge white cyclist painted on a roof and old bikes lining the fence along the road.  My initial thoughts of pushing on immediately disappeared as I rolled up and was welcomed by John.  

After resting for awhile in the shade of his house’s porch, he showed me where I could stay the night- a solar battery powered tiny bunk-shed with propane kitchen, plug ins to charge stuff, and even stocked with food and wine.  And don’t forget the fridge full of soda and beer on his house deck.  His one rule is to pay it forward.  He accepts no payment, just the agreement that we will pay it forward somewhere down the road.  That is something I can get behind and will willingly do.  For the second time today I have met someone older and wiser than I, who gives me guidance and an idea for what to continue growing towards with age.

A quick rinse in the outdoor shower was absolutely refreshing.  Then, being only about 5pm and lots of sunlight still to be had, I unpacked all my bags and just payed everything out.  Finally, Monday’s dampness will be gone!

All together there are 6 GDMBR riders staying here tonight.  Two here before I arrived and three more after.  It was wonderful watching the new arrivals go through the slight shock and awe of figuring out this place and all that has been made available to us.

Tonight we all sat around a picnic table and shared a big pot of pasta noodles and red sauce, wine, and an odd but kinda good can of warmed up beef in gravy.  At this point on day 4, that canned meat was pretty darn delicious.  

With Wi-Fi available and not being in a rush to get moving it is nice to check in with the world back home.  Tonight around the table there were people from all over the U.S., the U.K., and just now a gentleman from Germany arrived.  We enjoyed each other’s company and this moment in time, all partaking in a common endeavor in a similar way in a place that welcomed us openly.  If only this was the standard?