Day thirteen.
“There’s got to be a better way to get to Mexico.”
Or
“That hill is a son of a bitch.”
We said a quick goodbye to Montana Smith and found a diner for breakfast where we took a Quick Look-see at our map and our days route. In hindsight, we should have taken a more careful look.
We took the main route south from Helena, the red line you see on the left.
We didn’t notice the “alternate route” to the east. (In yellow). Doh!
We ended up doing the elevation profile pictured below…
Instead of this relatively flat one. Double doh! Our second climb was 8 miles long, but it was pretty tame with a good gravel road. But the third climb, while only 5 miles long was steep and rocky and I probably walked a third of it. You wouldn’t have wanted to drive that “road” with anything less than a Jeep.
What won’t kill us…
We found this lovely, if buggy campsite.
Day Twelve.
Short day. From the Llama Ranch to Helena, MT. 41.6 miles. Max speed: 42.4 mph.
We had a slow morning, enjoying the comfort of our little cabin and knowing we were going to overnight in Helena (Montana’s capital city) only 40 miles away. Max had a great time talking more with Flourian about his amazing journey so far.
Cows!
There was a festival in downtown Helena with a salsa band. Then we went to a camping store for some supplies. While there a guy named Montana Smith, real name, heard us talking and invited us to sleep the night on his floor. We said yes!
Montana is an ICU nurse and a former adventurer guide. He said at the height of his guiding career he would spend up to 300 nights a year sleeping in tents. He has a three legged cat named Corona.
Day eleven.
Greetings from Tanluhu (tahn-loo-hoo) and Savoy.
Through hikers, people who take on the big trails like the Appalachian Trail from end to end, have a tradition of taking trail names. Max named me Tonluhu and I named him Savoy. I don’t know why.
We started with a tasty breakfast at “The Stray Bullet,” a charming restaurant with an unfortunate name, and headed out to tackle the days first climb, a 5 mile grind up a rocky road.
Waterboy in action.
In a bathroom in Lincoln, MT.
Then came the second climb of the day. The biggest of our trip so far. So much red! I had to walk about a mile of it.
We arrived at Llama Ranch, a bikepackers hostel.
This is Barbara. She’s lived here for 30 years. She slowly noticed that lots of bikers were passing by and she started offering them a place to pitch a tent. 15 people the first year, over 800 last season. She has five little sheds that serve as cabins, stocked with food and water. She doesn’t accept money and only says to “Pay it forward.”
And finally (sorry for the long post) we met Flourian from Germany. The cutest guy ever. He’s been riding for 15 months and plans to continue for another 15 months, circumnavigating the globe. Max and I are on our 11th day. We are heroes.
Day ten.
58 miles. 6.5 hours of peddling. AVG 8.6 mph. 33.8 mph max. 4,653 ft of ascent. 4,545 ft of decent. Max altitude, 6,633.
Sunrise at Holland Lake.
A word about my boy. Max has been nothing but a fantastic, good spirited, willing partner in this endeavor. During our long days of peddling next to each other he’s asked me questions about my life and I’ve basically replied with my life story. So wonderful to share this time together.
We often have to filter water from the streams, and Max has been my filter boy, scrambling down to the rivers to keep us hydrated.
We made it to Ovando MT and we are sleeping in the basement of a church. They even offer a shower and laundry! All free to bicycle travelers. So kind.
Day nine.
Flathead Lake to Holland Lake
73 or so miles. 5,000 or so feet of climbing
Yum. Such a well balanced selection of junk food!
We enjoyed a great breakfast in the charming little town of Big Fork, MT. Then, more dirt road climbs, which, depending upon the steepness and the condition of the gravel, can be easy or hard, but they are beautiful and those climbs are so much better than riding on a paved road with fast moving vehicles.
We caught up to a couple of riders around midday. Turned out one of them was Dave, the 76 year old guy. We descended a big hill together at breakneck speed. An absolute beast!
We made it to this lovely campsite on the shore of Holland Lake. Magical.
Day eight.
70 miles. From Upper Whitefish Lake to the northern shore of Flathead Lake.
What the hell? How does all this stuff, plus our tents and sleeping bags, fit on our bikes? It didn’t rain last night, but our tents were soaked with dew. We took our time getting ready to give everything a chance to dry out.
And wow. When we got back on the road we were treated to a massive downhill thrill-ride tha dropped us into the town of Whitefish. We had lunch, visited yet another bike shop, stopped into a Safeway for provisions, and continued on mainly paved roads to a campground at Flathead Lake.
There’s a lot of support along the way from people who enjoy seeing the many cyclists pass their homes.
We stayed at a campground at Flathead Lake with about 10 other south bound riders.
A lot of those riders are older than even this old-bald-gray guy. This fellow, from the Bay Area is 76! What an inspiration!
Day seven.
68 miles. 5,661 feet of climbing
Welcome to America. This was a flyer on the wall inside a gas station bathroom in downtown Eurika. Healthy food!
Outside the gas station a man took an interest in our bikes and asked us about our trip. We were talking about the safety of big cities and he said that Chicago was too dangerous a place to be. He told us to have a safe trip and that we should strap an AK-47 to the front of our bikes. Max replied, “I just try to lead with kindness.”
Today’s ride had some spectacular scenery in between two major climbs. The reward was a prime campsite at Upper whitefish lake. About 30 miles north of the town of Whitefish, Montana.
Day six.
From Sparwood, BC to Eurika, MT. 81 miles.
It was a brisk 34° this morning—perfect weather if you’re a penguin—but at least the skies were clear and beautiful, and we were ready to roll.
We visited the worlds biggest truck for a photo op before we rolled out of town.
Our first stop was Fernie, British Columbia, a super charming little mountain town that somehow escaped the bougie treatment of a place like Banff. Max has been dealing with some finger numbness, which is less than ideal when you’re braking down gravel descents, so we stopped to get him some new grips and raised his handlebars to ease the pressure. While we were at it, he got a new chain and a quick tune-up—basically a spa day for his bike.
Not a whole lot to report for the rest of the day. We were feeling good and ended up going farther than we thought. We crossed into the U.S. at Rooseville (the border agent didn’t find my stock of maple syrup that I smuggled in) and rolled into Eureka, Montana. We managed to get our tents set up in a little downtown park just before a gentle rain started—nature’s way of saying, “Nice timing, fellas.”
Day five. Zero day.
A zero day is when hikers or bikers take a day off and don’t log any miles. We are another day in a hotel, waiting for the rain to stop.
So what do we eat on a ride like this? Anything we can get our hands on.
Sour Patch Kids
Oh Henry bars
Standard power bars
Tortilla with peanut butter
Tortilla with tuna
Tortilla with salami, apples, and cheddar
Nuts
Instant noodles
Prepared foods from supermarkets
Fast food hamburgers
Our food selections will get worse in rural Montana where we will be relying heavily on gas stations.
Max slept 13 hours last night, so perhaps the rain was a good thing?
Sparwood is a mining town and they have a decommissioned dump truck that was the largest in the world when it was built.
Rain should stop tonight and we will be back to work tomorrow.
Day four.
Our route: From little mountain cabin to Sparwood, BC.
64.4 miles.
Between yesterday and today we’ve seen bighorn sheep, a grizzly, a moose, an elk (on Elk Pass no less), deer, a bald eagle, prairie dogs, and a jack rabbit. Moving by bicycle is just the right speed to see the world, smell it, feel it. Not too fast, not too slow. Well, it’s actually a lot of 3 mph climbs followed by 35 mph descents. Throw in a rocky gravel road and a bike loaded with gear, and those descents can be thrilling.
Our water supply comes from the streams we cross. We usually filter about 4 liters at each stop.
Today’s goal was to get to the town of Elkford before the rain, which we achieved beautifully, but the hotel there was booked full. We had to push on to Sparwood, 22 miles south to find a hotel. As we started out from Elkford the sky finally did what everyone said it would…it opened up and started dumping water and wind on us.
My stupid looking helmet brim paid dividends today. We got a room, took a hot shower, and all is well.
Day three.
Our route: A bluff over a river to a little cabin with a fire and mice. 51 miles.
It took well over two hours for us to break camp this morning. So many moving parts and everything needs to be packed just right. Plus we were dragging our feet a little to let the tents dry before folding them up. But the sky was clear.
We met some riders on the trail who told us the real storm was yet to arrive, and that it was going to be bad. Snow and rain for three days, starting tonight.
The obvious problem was that we are not remotely prepared for snow camping. When traveling by bike you have to be very choosy about what you bring and a few nights of bad weather would test our resolve and resilience and resources.
So we put it in high gear to try to get over Elk Pass before the weather. That high gear was a little too much for Max who got a bit dehydrated and bonked. As he napped I started sticking out my thumb to hitch a ride from any pickup trucks that might have room. And wouldn’t you know it, a nice couple stopped to help. People like them are known as “Trail Angels”, helping trekkers and bikers out of the goodness of their hearts. They gave us a ride to a visitor station where we could regroup and make a plan. The park rangers confirmed that the bad weather was coming, but not until tomorrow at noon, so we set off to climb the pass and found ourselves in a rustic little hut for the night.
Oh, and dropping down on the other side of Elk Pass we saw our first grizzly bear. A medium sized guy who was running away from us with great haste. I have a bear bell attached to my handlebar that rings incessantly (thanks Hugh) and we each have a can of bear spray too.
Banff National Park
Bighorn sheep
Tired boy
Victory! We found the little cabin and fortunately it was empty of other humans.
Day two
Canmore, Alberta to somewhere in the forest south of Banff
40 miles on the day
It was a day of headwinds and putting on and taking off rain jackets six or seven times. We stopped at a bike shop in Canmore and the super nice owner guy told us that big storms are brewing. He suggested a campsite on the deck of an off-route ranger station that might provide some shelter. So that was our planned destination.
The route from Canmore to Banff (the official start of our tour) was on a nice paved bike path along an expressway. It was loud, but we were safe from traffic. And the mountain views were spectacular. Riding from the plains to the Rocky Mountains was an experience all its own.
The town of Banff, on the other hand, is just a super ritzy mountain town with a thousand expensive hotels and a million t-shirt shops. We made a stop at another bike shop to buy a strap for Max’s gear and set off from the trail head.
We found the turnoff for the ranger station and we spent a good 1/2 hour looking for it to no avail. But we did find a very nice spot on a bank overlooking a river. We got the tents set up in a bit of rain, but were cozy and tucked in before the sky’s opened up.
We had to visit the famous Fairmont Springs Hotel. $1,800 per night.
Our campsite for the night. $0.
Day one.
Calgary towards Banff. 60 miles.
We spent the morning finishing up the assembly of our bikes , had a breakfast and hit the road. Calgary was lovely. We visited a camping store to buy bear spray and a bike shop to get my front brake adjusted.
Our route led us on some dirt roads that, when added with a bit of water, became impossible to ride on. We couldn’t even push our bikes. Fortunately the rain didn’t last too long and in two hours the road had dried up enough to ride.
Our goal was to make it to a campsite we had reserved west of Canmore, but Max’s chain broke and it took a while to repair. Plus, we just planned on too many miles for a first day.
So we found an amazing place to camp along the banks of the Bow River. Free camping with a million dollar view.
