Bittersweet

I'm writing from a Starbucks in downtown El Paso. My train should have departed by now, but it has been delayed until at least 7:30. I've spent the last 24 hours or so with Brian, a new friend that I met north of El Rito over a week ago. He picked me up in Antelope Wells yesterday and helped me box my bike up. He gave me free housing and showed me around El Paso and took me to good Mexican and BBQ places. Without his generosity, I would have paid a lot for a shuttle to come get me or biked for two days from Antelope Wells to El Paso, so I'm very grateful for his time and hospitality.

Before I got to the border, I had to get to Hachita, about 80 miles from Silver City. It was a pretty easy ride, past the Tyrone Mine, through desert and ranches, paralleling the interstate and down the highway. The only hiccups were the cross winds the last 8 miles and the fact I left my debit card at breakfast on Saturday morning. I stopped for for snacks and drinks for the day and realized it wasn't with me. When I went back to the restaurant, my card wasn't there. The owner of the place, who had sat and talked to me for a few minutes, had gotten in the car and was heading down the highway to try to find me.

In Hahita, I found Jeff Sharp, Southern Terminus coordinator and trail angel. I was expecting a cot to sleep on and some water and they fed me sandwiches, BBQ, chips, cookies, Fanta and PBRs. There was also a dance going on in Hachita that night that they took me to. Apparently, years ago, Hachita was the place to be for these monthly dances. People would drive hours to party and dance in Hachita. Jeff has been a huge part of both the Great Divide and CDT, shuttling hikers and bikers and helping people out when needed. He installed a water pipe in town for riders to refill-- there wasn't one before. He's working on making a place for people to camp. He and Toni knew all the questions to ask and we had great conversation. He was even there for the finish of this year's Tour Divide Race, which was one exciting finale where three people went under the record time.

The scene at the ball was great. I definitely stood out: I was the only one not wearing denim or cowboy boots. Most guys had cowboy hats. And there I was in my khaki shorts and Tevas. Oh, and I was the only Asian in the Hachita Community Center.

But everyone was friendly. I talked to a rancher named Ed who said the band playing was the same band that he and his wife danced to in college over 40 years ago. They were excellent dancers and were having a wonderful time. It was fun to see the older crowd enjoy themselves as they two stepped the night away. I went home well before the festivities ended, but it was a honor to see the small community rally and enjoy themselves.

I describe yesterday, my finishing day, like I describe the last day of school each year: Bittersweet. You're excited for a break and change, but you're going to miss the daily routine of doing something that you love. I woke up in the morning and had trouble wrapping my head around the fact that I was actually going to finish this ride. I was glad to be going home, but I wasn't ready to be done. It's a difficult feeling to express.

It was 46.7 miles from Jeff's house to Antelope Wells. After being fed a hot breakfast and coffee, I felt great for about 30 of them. Then I was wearing down. Getting tired. Brian passed me on the road and said Hi and that he'd see me at the border. The mileage signs counted down to Antelope Wells. When I passed the '10', I knew I was really close and I was slightly re-energized. Then it was 9-8, etc. At 4 miles to go, the miles just seemed to click by. You could see the border station by then and every pedal stroke got you closer.

Brian greeted me just before the border station. I told him I was going to riding into Mexico really quick. Rode past the new US Customs station that looked nice and fancy and even had a solar panel system outside. The Mexican station looked like a dingy ranch house. The first guy to talk to me didn't speak English, so he went and got someone who could. I told them I just wanted to ride to the fence and back. They said fine, but I'd still have to stop at customs. At customs, they asked if I had drugs and opened my bags and looked in. I said I just wanted to ride to the fence and turn around and they could watch. They searched me anyway and after being satisfied I wasn't some narco, they let me go. The nice paved road immediately became dirt in Mexico. I rode less than 1/4 mile and turned around. Waved at all the Mexican border patrol agents. Talked to a young one, who looked like he was about 15 and was in fatigues and carrying a machine gun. He was very shy about his English, I was embarrassed about my lack of Spanish but we tried to carry a conversation. I think he just wanted to see the bike up close.

Coming back into the United States, one agent took my passport card and the other was checking out my bike. He said a bike like Hulk was exactly what he wanted. He loved the big tires. We joked for a minute or two, I got my card back and they let me go.

In the irony of ironies, as I was riding back to the "Antelope Wells" sign to get my photo taken, I got a puncture. My front tire was leaking. Right at the finish. I deemed that appropriate, like God's signal that it was time for my ride to come to an end. Be content where you are. No new ideas. At least for now...

Took photos of me, Hulk and Baron. As that was happening, three guys on Kawasaki motorbikes arrived. They had started in Roosville, MT and come down to Antelope Wells. They were finishing mostly the same ride that I did. Except they had gas power. And it only took them eight days. They were fun group. They had some bike issues and were tired, so were going to buy a cheap pickup and load the bikes on them, drive to Iowa and then maybe resell the truck.

But the special thing is that we all got to share in our journeys. The elation of completing something you set out to accomplish. The somber feeling we had because we were no longer on the journey.

Bittersweet.

Expectations

The last few days since leaving Grants has been a period of high expectations only to be derailed or disappointed. No worries, my attitude is still great and things are rolling along, but to say that everything went as expected or planned would simply be lying.

Monday, July 27: Grants to Pie Town, 70.1 miles

I opted for the El Malpais Alternate this morning and not because it was nearly 18 miles shorter than the main route. I wanted to ride it because it was paved and after the issues with mud in the desert and the rain that fell in Grants, I wanted a smooth ride. I got one. It was scenic and low traffic. There were a few large trucks, but they gave me plenty of room. A guy in a pickup even stopped and asked if I wanted a lift. I was 4 miles from the turn off to Pie Town and he was headed in a different direction, so I passed.

I made pretty good time to Pie Town. I was pretty excited because Pie Town is somewhat legendary in Great Divide circles. Well, I was bummed when I got there. I arrived just before 4:00 and everything was closed. The Pie-O-Neer was only open on Thursday-Sunday and the other cafe closed at 3:00. I also had a package from Buck Tanner at the post office, but small community post offices often close at noon or 1:00. Everything I was looking forward to was closed, it was indeed a let down. The only place open was a little shop run by Janet, who sells her own art and items from other local artists. She also sells some sodas and light food items, so I ate and talked to her for a while. She also pointed me to the Toaster House.

The Toaster House is definitely one of the highlights of Pie Town and the Great Divide. Nita, the owner, apparently raised a family there. Now, it is unoccupied except for the riders and hikers that are allowed to overnight there along the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route and the Continental Divide National Scenic Trail. And all the toasters that decorate the fence outside. It is donation driven, you just leave some money in a box inside. The house is kept stocked with food; there were fresh potatoes and onions on the counter, sodas, lots of packaged snacks, a pantry full of non-perishable food and even a whole watermelon. The back had a refrigerator full of frozen pizza and pot pies and filled with beer. It was one of the neatest things I've experienced. I ate some of the pizza, had some soda, a Rolling Rock and some ramen.

About 8:30, a four wheeler pulled up and behind it was Chad. He couldn't find the Toaster House, so a local showed him the way. I went out and said Hi. When I told the young man who brought Chad my name, he said, "Is that Cambodian?" I was impressed. He said he was in the Navy and had a Cambodian friend.

Tuesday, July 28: Pie Town to Middle of Nowhere, 64.6 miles

I was up early with no where to go because the post office didn't open until 8:00. Ate some food and made coffee at the Toaster House. Left my donation to the Toaster House. Rode to the post office and got my care package. Thanks Tanners. Went next door to Janet's again and had some coffee and a croissant. She, Chad and I talked for a while. We decided to stay until 9:30 when the cafe opened. You can't leave Pie Town without having pie!

The wait was worth it. I had the New Mexico Apple ala mode. Connor, who is doing an Individual Time Trial (ITT), joined us. He had already covered 30 miles that morning. He started on July 5 and was caught up with me already, averaging well over 100 miles per day. The three of us swapped stories and gorged. It meant a late start, after 10:30, but the terrain was set up for lots of fast miles.

When I started rolling, I was making good time. I was hoping to get close to Beaverhead Work Center, 99 miles away. Covered 30 miles quickly and then it started raining. Conner and I waited out the rain for nearly an hour. Then we were riding again. Covered another 25 miles pretty well, though it would rain lightly off and on. The grades were gentle and Beaverhead was looking good. Then I hit a section of clay. The clay clumps, so as you roll it clogs the clearance between your tires and frame locking up your wheels. You'd clean off as much as you could, roll 3 feet and then it's all clogged again. I was two inches taller because it would clump to the bottom of my shoes.

Conner said he was going to push on, he was more determined and has a lighter set up than me. I pushed about 3/4 mile and camped. Beaverhead was not going to happen. I was still 30 miles away. It was frustration, mixed with disappointment. The rain was crushing my momentum.

Wednesday, July 29: Middle of Nowhere to Rocky Canyon Campground, 66.3 miles

Again, I was up at 6:30 but took my time getting packed in the morning. It had rained again and I wasn't going very far fast. When I did get moving, I made the strategic decision of not riding in the road. I rode in the grass beside the road as much as I could. Pushed where I had to. I was really thankful for the big tires this morning. Biked about 2.5 miles before the road met another road. The surface, while still dirt, improved immediately. I was so elated to be able to pedal. I was going to make up for lost time. Lake Roberts, 85 miles away, was my goal!

Like the day before, I was making great time. The Beaverhead Work Center houses Hot Shot Fire Crews that go in and fight wildfires. A firefighter named Anthony rode down to the water station and asked if I needed anything. He told me they have men all around-- in California, British Columbia and other places fighting fires right now. He had tweaked his knee, so he was recovering. I told him I was good, I'd probably grab a cold drink from the vending machine. He said it was broken, but he'd be back. A few minutes he returns with a tall cup of Pepsi and a bowl of fresh fruit mixed in yogurt. I wasn't expecting that! This day kept getting better. I was definitely going to make Lake Roberts.

Soon after leaving Beaverhead, you pass little Wall Lake. There it started raining again. I waited 30 minutes before riding on. The rain let up and things were going well. I topped out on two climbs. On the descent to Black Canyon, I hit the clay again. I was literally stuck. I would push 3-4 feet, wheels lock up and I'd spend 2-3 minutes cleaning. I decided the best technique would be to drag the bike sideways. I would do this for 4-5 feet, rest and do it again. I did this for about 300 meters before I was too tired. 80 pound bike, pulling it uphill, was tiring. Lake Roberts wasn't going to happen. I cursed and fumed and laughed and cursed some more. Things were going so well...

Had someone driven by in a pickup I would have asked for a ride out of there, but alas, I would see no one on that road.

I ended up ditching the bike and walking nearly a quarter mile to see where the road improved. Then I made two trips, one carrying my panniers and the other carrying, pushing, dragging the bike. One more cleaning and I could ride. My drivetrain was gunked and gravel grinding, but I could pedal. Maybe I would make Lake Roberts.

About 6:30, the skies opened up again. Evening thunderstorm. Of course. I rode on since I was already wet. Made it to Rocky Canyon, which is not the developed campground I was hoping for. And it was still 20 miles short of Lake Roberts. But the rain had stopped and I set up camp. I cleaned off my dirty stuff in the rising creek next to the campground. When I was settled, I got in the tent to rest and eat. And then it rained again. At least I was dry.

Thursday, July 30: Rocky Canyon Campground to Silver City, 50.3 miles

When I woke, I did a lot of things that I were no fun. I packed a soaking wet tent. I put on wet clothes. Wet jersey and shorts, wet socks and shoes. The rain the day before and overnight had caused the water to rise in the creeks draining into the valley. Lots of fording of creeks that had flooded the road.

But the sun came out! Thursday would be the first day I did not get rained on in New Mexico. I rode into Lake Roberts finally! At the motel/store there, I asked if there was a place I could get breakfast. The lady said no, nothing was opened. She had some burritos made, but sent them away to a worksite. She offered me hers, but I didn't want to take that. More disappointment! But then the truck that had picked up the burritos came back for something and she grabbed one for me, so things worked out.

It was a big 10 mile climb out of the Lake Roberts and the climb didn't feel bad at all. There was no rain, the sun was out and I was going to make Silver City. It's really unfortunate about all the rain, because the Gila National Forest was one of the prettiest places that I rode through on the Great Divide. I just couldn't appreciate it at the time because I was frustrated and slowed down.

Roll into Silver City and stop at Gila Hike and Bike. For the last 4 days, I was wondering if my rear tire would make it to Silver City, much less the border. I would occasionally hear or feel leaks that the sealant would close. But I could tell that a good amount of air had left the tires and the tires were getting close to being worn through. I was going to either get them to put a bunch of sealant in the tire and take a chance on the border or maybe get them to rotate the tires. Against my expectations, they had a 29x3 Surly Knard in the shop. I was going to have to buy a new tire when I got home anyway, so I went ahead and bought it and had them install it. Finally, something working my way! And now, I knew I wouldn't be stranded 4 miles from the border with a giant hole in the tire.

Staying at the Bike Haus. Found Conner (below) there too! He's going to bike 120 miles to the border on Friday. It's an interesting place. About 5-6 guys live there and they open their house to the random cyclists who need a place to crash. It is definitely a bachelor set up, I would not call it the Marriott. The people living there are an interesting, eclectic group who range from a college professor to people who just arrived in Silver City and looking to get established. Not my first choice, but it's cheap and that works for me right now.

Im two days to the border. Brian, who I met over a week ago in northern New Mexico, has agreed to come get me at the border on Sunday and house me in El Paso and take me to catch the Monday train east. It's really neat how things indeed do work out. I was planning on biking two days from the border to El Paso and this random dude I meet offers to come get me (though he said I was welcome to bike it if I wanted). My plan is to take the train home, tickets run me $279. That's versus $600-700 to fly and ship bike, so it's worth it to me. A bike box is only $10 on Amtrak, $150 on most airlines.

The homestretch is near. Thanks for reading and following. Thanks for the prayers, encouragement and support.

The Divide

So what is this Divide that I keep referring to and for which this route is named? Assuming a drop of water does not evaporate or get absorbed into the ground, the Divide separates where water will end up. Water will end up either in the Pacific Ocean or the Atlantic Ocean (Gulf of Mexico) depending on what side the divide the water originates on. So far, I have crossed the Continental Divide 15 times and it's pretty neat to stand there and know that I'm standing at the watershed, that water one one side of me might flow into the Pacific via the Snake and Columbia Rivers and the other side will reach the Gulf of Mexico via the Missouri and Mississippi.

Encompassing most of Nevada, some of California and Utah, the Great Basin is one place where water doesn't drain into an ocean. It basically pools into lakes or evaporates. Another place is the Great Divide Basin in Wyoming, where the Continental Divide splits and forms a "bowl". Water will form seasonal creeks and ponds but for the most part, it evaporates. And this was the place where I spent the weekend.

The Great Divide Basin was everything I expected and some I did not. I expected it to be lonely, dry and hot.

I was actually surprised at how unlonely I was in the basin. There were lots of animals-- rabbits, antelope and the marmot I saw making a beeline at me. It ended up diving into it's burrow, startled by me. Lots of birds also, small ones and large raptors. At the campsite I chose at A&M Reservoir, one of the few water sources in the Basin, there were a set of car campers, about 8 guys who pulled up on BMW touring bikes (you can see their camp in the photo below) and two Continental Divide Trail through hikers.

The Basin was dry, though you could see the effects of the recent Wyoming rains in puddles left behind. I got water at Diagnus Well (below), which technically isn't in the Basin yet, but it was the last water source until A&M Reservoir. We take fore granted things until they are scarce. I was transferring water from one bottle to another and, while trying to swat a bug from my foot, spilled half the bottle of water. What a tragedy. Fortunately, I still had plenty of water, but I knew I wasted a precious commodity.

As for hot, I lucked out. Temps barely reached the 90s, which is pretty good for the Divide Basin. But the wind. Oh the wind. Most of Saturday morning, I lucked out with a tail wind. The afternoon was a head and cross wind. When I got to A&M Reservoir, I felt like I could go further, but it would be directly into heavy winds. These were winds strong enough to blow my bike over while it was leaning against me. I waved the white flag and camped at the lake rather than fight the winds.

It took me a day and half to make the ride from Atlantic City to Rawlins. This was one of the parts I dreaded as I prepared for the ride. It was difficult and carrying extra water sure made me slower, but it was a surreal experience being in the desolate landscape.

Other Notes:

- Hulk got a new chain and some adjustments in Pinedale. I didn't mention it before, the chain broke on the bike near Lima, nearly a week ago. I fixed it and it made it over 400 miles to the first bike shop on the route since Butte, MT. Actually, it's a hardware store that has a bike repair area in the back. The guy working on the bike said he gets lots of Great Divide riders since there's not another shop until Steamboat Springs, CO.


- Dodged rain all day Friday. Didn't start riding until after 12:00 since it was pouring in Pinedale. Locals were apologizing to me, saying it never rains this much--- they're semi-arid! Made it about 20 miles and then saw a storm to my south as I was heading east. I pedaled hard and watched it pass through where I had been (below pic). Saw the same guy on the BMW that passed me on the Ashton-Flagg Ranch Rd 3 days before. Also, met John from southern Pennsylvania. Saw another storm from afar. Tried to pedal away from it too. I missed the middle of the storm, but the edge caught me. A third was gaining on me late in the day. I huddled in a Rest Stop for 45 minutes waiting for that one to pass.

- Had breakfast in Atlantic City on Saturday with a couple of re-enactors who were there for an event at South Pass City. They were from all over but knew one another. I was bummed I wasn't going to get to see them in action and the events at South Pass.

- Met two college buddies from MIT when I was heading into the Basin.


- Apparently, where I camped at A&M Reservoir is on the Continental Divide Trail as two through hikers came rolling in about 8:30. I gave one of them my bear spray as I was out of bear country.


- Had great Thai food in Rawlins. Anong's Thai. Highly recommended if you're ever in Rawlins.

- Rode through road construction this morning in southern Wyoming. I was afraid they were going to close the road, but I got up early enough to make it through most of it.

- Three Forks Ranch, which I rode by today, is ridiculous. It's like a mini Biltmore. Their main house is huge!


- Met these three guys from Spokane. They started 3 weeks ago in NM.

Lots to update

I thought I'd blog more, but so often I'm camping at places that don't have wifi. And service is really spotty out here in the rural west.

Saturday, July 4: Wise River, MT to Bannack State Park, 63 miles

After leaving Wise River, the day is spent on Montana HWY 73, also known as the Pioneer Scenic Hwy. It's a very pretty route with light traffic, a tough, but not grueling climb and an awesome descent into the small community around Polaris. The north side is bordered by National Forests and even has a few ghost towns that I didn't visit because they were too far off the route. The south side of the route is a valley with small communities.

I met Jeff, who's racing the Tour Divide northbound. Most of the southbound riders have already finished. Jeff was a really nice guy, we talked for a few minutes on the side of the road. He told me that he lost three days because he got hit by a falling tree in a windstorm. Hurt him but also broke his front wheel.

Had lunch with Dan and Elizabeth, who I passed on the climb. They are doing a loop from Jackson, MT and just having a good, easy time. They are only doing 30-40 miles a day. They were staying at the restaurant/inn that we dined in and I was going to bike another 17 more miles to Bannack State Park.

While stopped to check my map, this gentleman pulled over to say Hi. He owned one of the lodges that I passed and many Tour Divide racers stayed there or at least stopped in. He showed me the board that all the racers signed.

And I liked this little schoolhouse in Polaris, MT.

Bannack State Park is the home of Montana's territorial capital. It was bustling when gold was found in Grasshopper Creek. It was true Wild West, with fortune finders coming to try their luck, outlaws and bootleggers, vigilante justice and also good citizens trying to just make a living. Gold dwindled and the railroad went through nearby Dillon, so Bannack slowly faded. Today's it's a ghost town where you can walk through most of the buildings and see where dreams were made and died. And it also has a nice little campground where I watched a little girl ride a bike without training wheels for the first time.

Oh, no fireworks for me on Independence Day. Just early sleep.

Sunday, July 5: Bannack State Park to Lima, 84 miles

I was awaken early by roaring wind. It was blowing like a storm was coming in. I am assuming that was the front that is going to break the heat wave. I pack camp without losing anything. I don't even make coffee because the wind is going to make my stove so inefficient that I don't even bother. I'm riding by 7:15.

It's a long 40 miles of gradual uphill through ranch land to the Medicine Lodge-Sheep Creek Divide, which almost the halfway point of today's ride. Slow and steady and then a steep pitch before the top. Just before the top, I meet Alex and Chris. They are a father and son duo from Virginia riding for Nepal Relief. Great people and told me some things and people to look out for ahead. Check out their website.

Come down off the divide takes you through some ranches and then down into a canyon. I got rained on a little. I take a short detour off the route to a small town called Dell to have an early dinner at the Calf-A Cafe. It's a restaurant built into an old schoolhouse that the Adventure Cycling map calls "possibly Montana's most unusual restaurant". Specials are written on a chalk board in the back of the dining room. Food was home cooking and cheap.

In Lima, I camp at the RV Park/Motel for 5 bucks. Head over to the new restaurant/bar and have some corndogs and drinks. They are still renovating the restaurant that they think originally served as a brothel. When I ask how their town is pronounced, they say LI-ma. The young man tells me, "Lee-ma is in Peru". Of course...

Monday, July 6: Lima, MT to Macks Inn, ID, 85 miles

Up early again, have breakfast in the cafe across the street and talk to Ken who is 65 and riding northbound, and I'm off. Feeling great. My body is getting stronger and there are fewer huge passes to climb. I cruise the morning to Lima Reservoir, ride through the Red Rocks Lake National Wildlife Refuge and begin the climb to Red Rock Pass. Lots of grazing land. Scenic.

After the pass, I'm in Idaho! Drop down and stop for ice cream and soda at the Red Rock RV park. The park webmaster talks to me for a while. He loves Hulkbike. He tries to photograph the Tour Divide racers as they pass the park. For someone who doesn't bike, he is very knowledgeable about the Great Divide.

I had planned to camp there, but it was only 4:30 and I decided I could make more miles. I covered lots of ground and still felt great. Biked another 15 miles to Mack's Inn, a resort community for hunters, fishers and ATVers. Camped there and met Barry, a teacher from Bellingham doing the Great Divide solo and the threesome of Corey, Billy and Amy who were friends from college doing the Great Divide together. They were interesting characters. Everyone was having a good time doing the ride it seemed.

Tuesday, July 7: Macks Inn, ID to Colter Bay Village, 104 miles

It stormed over night, nice lighting display. I was up early, saw my friends at the convenience store where we were eating and stocking up. The Warm River trail is an old railroad route that was now a trail and everyone talked about how Hulk would be great in the soft volcanic sand that makes up some parts of the trail. The sand wasn't bad, it was the ATV wear that killed me. They rut the trails and create grooves where the tires leave marks. It was like riding on rumble strips. No fun fully loaded. I end up just being frustrated and taking a road to the paved road. It was about 6 additional miles to my trip but worth it to get off the trail.

There is a road called the Ashton-Flagg Ranch Rd that takes me from near Warm River across into Wyoming, skirts Yellowstone's southern border and drops me onto the main highway that connects Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks. It's about 40 miles long. The first part was hard. A guy on the BMW motorcycle passes me and says hi. He recognizes the bike at Colter Bay and couldn't believe I had made it that far.

I was pushing for Colter Bay because it has a lot of conveniences right there: cheap camping ($11), grocery and restaurant (National Park pricey at both), laundry, great views of the Tetons. Also, lots of TransAmerica cyclist would be here. I camped here on my cross country ride and enjoyed it a lot. Talked to a guy, Ben, biking from Portland, OR to Portland, ME. Met a group of Boy Scouts from Chapel Hill riding coast to coast and a guy riding from Toronto to San Diego.

Wednesday, July 8: Colter Bay to Lava Mountain Lodge, 46 miles

Woke up to rain this morning. It stopped and I packed up a wet tent, one of my least favorite things to do. I rode the 11 miles to Moran where there was a care package waiting for me. Thanks Lori, John, Sydney and Katie Hart for sending the toiletries, food and letters.

Hailee and Dan, North Henderson alumni working in Yellowstone, picked me up there in Moran and we had breakfast. It was great talking and catching up.

Then begins the assault on Togwotee Pass. I stop at a convenience store and RV park where I meet Mike. From Alaska, Mike and family- there's eight of them, many adopted- are riding the Great Divide. I asked him why and he said he made the mistake of watching "Wild". He wanted for his kids to experience a bonding and soul searching experience. Mike's in his 60s and the youngest is 11, doing the Great Divide together. That's pretty neat. Mike also gave me his cell number since they have a support car and told me to call if I get stranded.

Met Ben, from Charleston, who had a Ducati in his truck bed and a custom painted Cannodale mountain bike on the hitch mount, so of course we were going to talk. I loved his toys and he loved Hulk. He even took Hulk for a ride around the parking lot.

I was having a great day. Saw some great friends, met some neat people, I was feeling good on the climb. Then it got cold. I felt raindrops. I was lucky to get to an overlook that had a bench and information board under a small roof. I was going to put on rain jacket there. Then the skies opened. And thunder boomed seemingly right on top of me. It was not the cool you off sort of rain, it was the chill you to your bones kind of rain. I was only four miles from the top.

I stood there and shivered. Mike's family was able to get rescued since they had a SAG car. I saw them drive by. I was worried about the kids in this miserable weather and was glad to see them get ahead. I stood there for 2 hours waiting for the rain to let up. By the time it did, I was cold and miserable. I finished the climb and started the descent. Froze on the way down, temperatures were in the 40s. Found Lava Mountain Lodge. There was no way I was camping tonight. I was cold and wet and the tent I rolled this morning was also wet. I got a cabin for $25. It's got no bathroom or water, but it has electricity and heat. Perfect.

Talked to Allison, from Sparwood (same town in British Columbia I camped in on the second night), who might be the most interesting person I've met. She works at one of the coal mines around Sparwood and decided to bike the Great Divide this summer. She's biking solo northbound and averaging close to 80 miles a day. She and I had the same problem in that the rain shorted our days. We were both under 50 miles, average for a lot of the riders I've talked to but way under what Allison and I were averaging.

Thursday, July 9: Lava Mountain Lodge to Pinedale, WY, 93 miles

I got a little bit of a late start this morning. It rained overnight and I didn't care because I was sleeping in my cozy little cabin. I even ran the heater. But I forced myself up and was packed and rolling by 8:30.

Just a few miles after leaving the lodge, I run into two older ladies riding the TransAmerica westbound. They were from Pennsylvania and just taking their time across the country. As soon as I turn off the highway, the climbing commences. It's okay, I like getting the climbing done early. But then there's more. You have to climb back up to the Continental Divide at Union Pass. The first 5 miles took me over an hour! 

Thought I might dodge the rain a little. Didn't happen. It was a slow and steady rain that wasn't miserable but did make for uncomfortable riding and bad roads. The roads became mud holes filled with water and were slippery. Passed a group of three doing the Divide from Jackson, WY to Steamboat Springs, CO. When I started descending from above 8,000 ft, the skies started to open up  a little and the sun peek out. But the damage was done. The roads were a mess. I had so much dirt on me, my gear, my bike. Absolute filth. I had 35 miles to Pinedale to dry out, but the dirt and grime were still there. Everything needs a cleaning-- rider, bike, bags, bottles. Fortunately, the panniers did their job and kept the wet and dirt outside, otherwise things would have been even messier.