Day 8: Sun 6/26: 94 mi: 4369’ climbing

The morning started out as a fashion show.  Titled: bikepacking in all your clothes.  Again.

6am start again, but made coffee which was pleasantly effective at easing off the 30 degree air’s chill.  Mike and Isa… man I’m bad at names, rolled out 15 min before I did at 7:15, and I haven’t seen them since.  Power legs yo.  I mean, she did qualify to try out for the Olympics as a runner so… I’ll not compare myself to those legs!

Over the next few miles of climbing quiet gravel roads through sagebrush grazing lands I began the slow peeling off of layers as the suns intense rays started to blast down.  Sweat like a boss on the uphills, freeze on the downhills.  Perfect.  Once over the small rise known as Bannack Bench (I think?) it was a down grade for a good ten miles, followed by 3 more down on pavement.  With no wind to fight against the miles passed quickly.

Turning up Medicine Lodge Road I began the nearly 20 mile climb to the Continental Divide at 7800’.  While this is a long ways to climb about 1600’, the total amount of climbing was closer to 3000’ and just never let up.  I adopted a strategy of 55 min cycling, 5 min resting and stretching.  The last 2 miles were a complete punch in the face.  Being that high up- which makes my asthma turn me into a wheezing Llama , with super steep slope up a freshly graded class 5 road… it was killer.  I walked.

But getting to the pass and seeing over into the next high bowl of wide open green was super cool.  A lame lunch of bars and half a package of vanilla wafer cookies while I rested, and I was ready to roll around 12:45, with 35 miles down and a whole lot to go.

You’d think there be a sweet descent right?  No.  Same crazy loose gravel at a super steep pitch AND a bunch of cows the decided the road was the best place to graze… made for a dumb and finger-squeezing-brakes exhausting obstacle course.  THEN…. Before the real descent let’s throw in like 5 more miles of rolling, steep climbs.  Just for kicks.

Eventually the descent began, which was gentle but enough to keep the bike rolling as I navigated across the gravel road searching for the best line.  Across the wide open, kicking along at a good 18 mph, which was fun.  Looking at the landscape, it seemed to form a massive alpine bowl.  But suddenly the road turned, lined up next to a creek, and wound itself through a gap in the hills.  Eroded over time by the river, a narrow valley cut its way down.  The narrow valley also served as a funnel for a newly formed afternoon headwind, which kinda ruined the fun of the decent.  I hadn’t seen a tree casting shade to hide under since I left camp this morning.  I could feel myself wearing from the hot sun, dry wind, and constant attention needed to navigate the increasingly crappy gravel.

I finallyemerged out of the narrow river canyon into the big valley with I-15 cutting down the middle of it.  Intersecting with the Highway, I rejoined pavement and began the 8 mile trek along the frontage road to Lima.  In a headwind.  And this is when I ran out of water.  3L made it pretty far given the circumstances though.

Coming into the booming 1 gas station metropolis of Lima, I was greeted with the sight 5 Divide bikes already lined up and a shade-casting gazebo to hang out in.  Barely introducing myself, I immediately went in and bought $15 worth of fat and salt and sugar.

Relaxing under the gazebo, the sun peeking through the busted wood roof, it was nice to meet another group of people.  Brent was there, having also pushed hard yesterday- even past where I stayed- and slept on the side of the road.  A couple who was from Amsterdam was super chill.  Two teenage girls from California were traveling together, starting from Whitefish.  It took me a little while to figure out they were high schoolers, then an even longer time to wrap my head around it.  Pretty amazing that they are out here doing this on their own.  I felt old.

With the sun beating, we all just stayed out.  We chatted about what to do next, not wanting to stay in town, but also not wanting to go ride in the heat.  Someone bought beers.  I went back in and bought $25 more worth of food supplies for the next 24 hours.  And we chilled.  And I enjoyed having cell service again and checking in with the world.  

At 6, I got the vibe that no one was going to leave, especially given that three more riders just showed up that everyone seemed to know.  Really not wanting to spend the night in town, I began packing and said farewell at 6:15.  They said they’d be right behind me and would join at an agreed upon place along the river 11 miles out of town.  But I don’t think that’ll happen…

Climbing out of the valley and towards the Lima Reservoir, even in the early evening the sun was intense on my back.  About an hour later, just below the reservoir dam I found the spot I’d noticed in the satellite images and rolled down through the long grass to the river.  Scouting it out- it seemed legit.  I dropped the bike, grabbed my flip flops, and immediately squatted down into the river.   It was raging too fast and deep to fully submerge, but man did it feel good on my bits to dunk them into the cold water.

Clothes changed and hanging to dry, tent set, dinner of instant mashed potatoes with cut up cheese and meat sticks for some added calories and texture… now it’s time to pack up for the night, bear-proof my food as best as possible, and get to bed.

Pushing hard these last two days has put me back on schedule.  Now, I can take it a bit easier.  Tomorrow, I only have 75 miles to go and no major passes for the first time ever.  It’s gonna be chill.

9:30.  The sky is still bright but the sun has disappeared behind the river valley walls.  Laying in my tent, listening to the river 20’ away gushing and the frogs starting to come alive, my eyes are struggling to stay open even though it seems like the world outside is coming alive with the cooling temperatures.  

Should I have stayed in Lima and been more social?  That is part of what riding the GDMBR can be about.  But I’m not sure if it’s what I want it to be about.  Yes, I enjoyed the two hours chilling together in the shade and glistening chatting about whatever.  I’m fairly quiet in those situations, letting others drive the conversation.  But right now, wild camping here, being alone… I think I like that a lot, too.  In fact, I think this is kinda the reason to be here.  To just bike and camp, eat and drink, sleep and get up and go and just roll with whatever my mind drives towards.  I noticed this morning that I take more pictures when I am riding solo.  I stop and take care of myself more too (sunscreen, food, stretching, other old people stuff).

My eyes can fight it. I’m out.