Day Sixteen--Tuesday, June 10th
Mood:  a-ok
Now Playing: An imperfect day. What the hail!

I peeked out the door of my motel room, and it looked pretty good outside. It had rained last night but it wasn't raining now, The sky had typical clouds with blue breaks. My plan was to have breakfast in Sula, five miles up the road. I wanted to leave the motel by 6:30 AM, ride to Sula for breakfast, and be climbing by 8-8:30 AM.

As I got on my loaded recumbent, I marveled at how comfortable the ride was. It is sort of like bicycling from a reclining chair. Your are laid back, and you pedal parallel to the ground.

Two miles down the road it started to hail. So much for my understanding of the sky. I had never ridden in hail before. It wasn't bad. i could hardly feel the tiny particles. Why couldn't Montana have snowflakes instead of these pesky buggers? Oh well, I can take it. Hmm. The hail is increasing in size. Now I'm starting to feel it. My God, its now the size of marbles. Ouch, this is beginning to really hurt. Ouch.  Ouch.  Ouch.  I'm getting pelted, laid out flat on my bike, as if the hail discovered a nice target. Quickly, I scurried off the road and hunkered down behind a tree as the wind became this fury, first going one direction then another. I had to keep moving around the tree to find the lee of the wind at that moment. (Note to self: next time I think its going to hail, remember to wear a protective cup.) After a couple of minutes, the wind quieted and I got on my bike to get to the restaurant. The road was white with hailstones, but not slippery.

Soon I reached Sula, a town which consists of a Country store/restaurant/campground. That's it. Unsure as to whether I would vbe able to go further (its snowing now) a hot breakfast still was what the doctor ordered. The cook had quit two days earlier. So breakfast was coffee, a couple of packaged danishes and some juice.

My new strategy was to sit this snowstorm out--stay at the campgrounds overnight, if necessary, and inquire of pass conditions as travelers came down the hill. This was the first place at the bottom of the pass, and people would want to gas up, replenish supplies, etc. The information I received from travelers was not good. So I sat and waited. Around 9:30 the snow stopped (it was only an inch or less), the wind had died, and things were looking up. Would I be able to go over the pass? It would probably take three hours, and a lot can happen in that time with this mountain weather during that time. At 10:15 AM, the sun was shining. A motorcyclist fresh off the mountain gave a positive report. I brushed the snow off my bike, turned it around facing uphill and started riding again. Chief Joseph Pass, here I come. As ironies would have it, a half mile down the road, I had to stop and apply my 50 block suntan lotion to my face.

It was a long climb, and it was getting colder with the elevation. It snowed lightly, not sticking to the road, and the wind swirled a bit, but nothing serious. A little after 1 PM, I crossed over the pass and headed downhill. The next town was Wisdom, 27 miles away, some of it downhill. In bicycling (actually in everything, but it is accentuated in bicycling), food is your fuel. You need to eat. Alot. I hadn't eaten since that sparce fare around 7:30 AM, and I didn't have anything for lunch but some Trail Mix and stuff. About 12 miles outside of Wisdom, I stopped to put some sustenance in my body (a Power Bar and some Trail Mix), then hurried on to Wisdom. I wanted to stop by the Big Hole Battlefield on the way to Wisdom. The decisive battle between the U.S. troops and the Nez Perce tribes was fought there. The Indians won the battle but at an onerous cost of lives, which spelled their demise and eventual surrender. Chief Joseph is the one who said "I will fight no more forever." As I was eating, I realized that it was nearing 3 PM. I still had to eat in Wisdom and then ride another 22 miles to Jackson, where I had reservations.

I looked behind me towards the pass from which I had just descended. There was a solid line of snow headed my way, and it seemed to be in a hurry. I jumped on the bike and took off.  I fyou saw  the movie "Hidalgo", about a horse race across the desert, the hero outraces a huge sandstorm, gaining shelter seconds before being engulfed.  That was the movies.  This was reality.  It caught up with me 6-8 miles outside of Wisdom. The wind and snow seemed to come from my right. It was bitterly cold. I had a headband that would cover my ears but it was soaking wet from perspiration, and I had taken it off.  Putting it back on (would a wet headband be an improvement in the wind?) my ears warmed up in seconds.

Soon I was in Wisdom (certainly a place which was named for any of my traits) and had a hearty hamburger and fires at Fetty's Cafe. I met another bike traveler outside the cafe. There was 6-10 inches of snow forecast for tonight. I had miscalculated the mileage to Jackson. It was 18 miles, not 22.

I got on the bike and started pedalling hard. The wind was still blowing, the snow parallel to the ground. The oddest thing happened. You would think that this had to be the worst weather in the world. Snow was building up on my whole right side, about 1/2". My right lens of my glasses was snowed over and when my left started to become obscured, I took them off. Yet, I was perfectly warm. Somehow, the heat I was generating was exactly equal to the cold. I also went fast, for me. Although the wind was coming from the side, it seemed to help propell me faster somehow. It was a slight uphill grade for all 18 miles, yet I managed 14 mph for most of it. Ten miles out of Wisdom, the snow stopped. the sun came out. The snow dropped off my right side, and I arrived at the Jackson Hot Springs Lodge, the biggest surprise to me, in terms of lodging, since I left Everett.

The lodge had a huge main hall with  a wrap-around balcony on the second floor, the walls filled with heads of what were once live animals.  A bar stood at one end of the room.  A large stone fireplace with a fire blazing beckoned one to sit for a while in the stuffed chairs.  Much of the flooring was of a dark wood, set up for dancing.  I'll bet they have some grand shindigs here.  At the end of the grand room, opposite the bar, was a door that led outside to an outside swimming pool that was fed by hot springs.

After checking in, I was walking the bike past the front in order to get around back to my cabin.   A voice shouted out "Hey, where in North Carolina are you going?"  (There were a number of stickers on the bike that say "North Carolina or Bust!)  Out into the driving wind walks this distinguished looking gentleman in swim trunks and tee shirt.  I'm fully dressed, and very cold in the sub-freezing wind, as we chat.  Having been soaking in the hot springs pool, he seemed oblivious to the cold.  I am the one that finally had to break off the conversation.  A hot shower beckoned.

After showering, I went back into the lodge and found he and his wife in the pool.  This neat couple, Jim and Betty Walton, live in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and were returning from a week spent in a cabin in Stehekin, Washington (Stehekin is a very remote town on the far end of 60 mile long Lake Chelan.  It is accessable only by boat or hiking overland).  We had a nice chat which continued later in the dining room.  It is just amazing what wonderful people one meets in the most unusual of places.

Tomorrow held a special challenge.  I had two mountain passes to go over that day, Big Hole Pass, elevation of 7,250',  and Badger Pass, elevation of 6,700'.  This is, of course, is predicated on the assumption that the roads would be ridable, and the passes safe.  The prognostication of lots of snow makes me wonder if I would get out at all.  Oh well, I could think of worst places to be stuck than the wonderful Jackson Hot Springs Lodge.

Will McMahan

Day Fifteen--Monday, June 9th
Mood:  happy
Now Playing: Preparing for the launch
Today went as planned. Because of the short bicycling distance I was able to take my time getting ready.

First things first: I picked up the hand warmers, stopped by the grocery store to get some "on the road" food, and headed for the bike shop to see if they had any long bike pants. They had one pair left. Whew!

The staff there asked where I was staying that night, and I replied "the Rocky Knob Lodge". Only the bike mechanic had heard of it. He said "I know it! I got married there!" Now I knew I was in trouble.

At $37/night, I was not expecting much, and it did everything to live down to my expectations, When was the last time that I used a TV set that had thhose two knobs: VHF and UHF? I couildn't remember how to work it. It didn't matter because I slept early and long.

Tomorrow was a big day. The weather wasn't looking good and had never attempted to ascend a mountain pass of over 7,000'.

Will McMahan

Day Fourteen--Sunday, June 8th
Mood:  energetic
Now Playing: What does this day have in store?

My plan for the day was to have breakfast around 7 AM, and head for the town of Hamilton, about 58 miles south of Missoula. This being Sunday, I didn't think there would be much traffic. In fact, since I was leaving wso early, if there was a church having their sunday service when I drove by, I thought I would stop in, bicycle clothing and all, and worship with them. For the longest time it seemed that all the services were at 10 AM or 11 AM, so i would be a ways up the road before stopping.

There was a bike trail along the highway that I was having trouble finding. while asking for directions, a fellow, upon seeing my Seattle Seahawk, asked if I was from Seattle. Come to find out, he and his companion were from Darrington. They were building a home for a client nearby.

As I passed through the samll town of Florence, I saw a sign for a Florence/Calvert Creek Community Church. It was not visible from the highway, but I turned off, figuring to go 1/4 mile, and if I did not see the church then I'd get back on the highway. The road came to a "tee" and off to the right was a nice looking church with a full parking lot. This would be the church I would attenc today. I entered the Narthex, only to find that the service had started earlier, and that everyone was seated. Like many churches, the proceedings were broadcast into the narthex, so I was able to worship, in my bike clothes, alone in the narthex.

The pastor was just commencing his sermon. It was on Noah, and how Noah "walked with God" in his daily life. The pastor challenged us to step out of our daily routine, and ask God how to walk with Him. I felt the message was directed to me.

After the service, I was cordially invited to have coffee in an adjoining room, where I was able to meet many nice people, the very first of whose daughter went to massage school in Everett. Upon asking for information on available restaurants up the road, a couple invited me to their home for lunch. I spent a very nice time with John and Joann Haven. John is a retired Physical Therapist and Joann is a practicing nurse. They built their home themselves and did a beautiful job of it. John has a gift of woodwork and liked to hand build kalaidescopes. After a delicious lunch, I bid them farewell, and headed south.

Hamilton is one of the larger towns south of Missoula, and there were two objects that I wished to get before the stores closed: a pair of long bicycle pants (my leg warmers were prone to slipping down, and with some passes to climb, I didn't want to take a hand off the handle bars to fix them while riding) and hand warmers, a brilliant idea by my bride, Karen. Figuring that the stores would close at 5 PM, I hustled to get there by 4:30 PM.

Apparently, there are still some towns where most stores close on Sunday, and Hamilton is one of them. I would have to wait until Monday morning. Fortunately, the next day was going to be my shortest one so far, mileage-wise, about 30-35 miles. So leaving mid-morning would not be a problem. The reason for the short mileage was because I have a major pass, Chief Joseph Pass, to climb the next morning.

Will McMahan

Day Thirteen--Saturday, June 7th
Mood:  hungry
Now Playing: What a great little town, Missoula

It feels a little strange to have a rest day--and no you can't have it back!  I recognize the need for one's body to repair and recuperate so that is not the issue.  All of a sudden I don't have a schedule and goals (well maybe a few).  I just get to look around. 

This morning I rode over to Walgreens Pharmacy to pick up a prescription.  It was a nice 7 mile round trip to get the legs a little stretched out.

Being Saturday morning, Missoula had a Farmers Market happening, and a Craft Market too.  The latter was one block away.  The other was a few blocks further.

 

The rest of today will be spent making arrangements for next week:  securing lodging, checking gearand the bike, cleaning and wiping out and  my panniers, studying the maps until they are firmly engrained in my memory (if anything ever gets firmly engrained in my memory).  For the first time that I can recall, I have become a close watcher of the Weather Channel.  It is amazing that the East and West of America can be at such odds weatherwise--extreme heat East, and unseasonal cooness West.  The West is the part that I'm watching closely.  Low temperatures at West Yellowstone is in the mid-twenties.  I don't want to get stuck out on the road.

An interesting thing happened in Spokane (you do remember Spokane, don't you?).  I have not brought any books along because of weight, not even any devotional literature.  Instead I installed audiobooks onto an MP3 player (okay, okay, I wasn't able to get them installed myself.  I took them to someone with a higher technological IQ--my 11 year old grandson Andy, and he did it in 20 minutes.)  Lying on the pillow in my room at the Spokane Apple Tree Inn was a small three month devotional booklet whose name escapes me.  but it has become part of my daily devotions.  I have seldom been verbal about my beliefs, but I do believe that that small pamphlet was there for me.

I will probably not be able to update this log for a few days.

Mood:  celebratory

Good to read about your adventure!!

We are praying for you!

Do enjoy the roses along the way -- and all the other fine parts of Gods great earth!

Keep peddeling and keep smiling

 Arlie 

 

Day Twelve--Friday, June 6th
Mood:  energetic
Now Playing: This Riding Downhill Stuff is Pretty Cool

This may sound a little anal, but now that I am on Mountain Time, I want to leave and arrive at the same time as I did on PST. Which, if I explained it correctly, if I wanted to leave at 8 AM MST, then I would need to leave at 7 AM PST.  Oh well, one less hour of sleep.

One nice thing about last night in Superior is that, even though this is a small motel, it had a commercial washer and dryer.  I hadn't intended on using them, until I realized that most of my clothes still smelled of smoke from the motel room in Coeur d'Alene.   So it was nice to have everything fresh again.

My goal today was to get to Missoula and secure a motel room within reasonable distance to the American Cycling Association (ACA) office, and preferably one with a computer on which I could write in this journal.  Not sure where the ACA office was, I called a little after 8 AM and was informed that they would not be open tomorrow or Sunday, and they closed at 5 PM today.  this news changed things a bit because I was told that this was a rite of passage for all bicycle travelers through Missoula (I'm not sure why), and that meant that I would have to hussle to get there in time.  Several locals said that there several long hills on the way to Missoula, so I anticipated some slow pedalling at times.

Weather was cloudy and a bit cool.  Forecast was chance of rain.  I hit the road a little after getting off the phone with the ACA.

It was probably my imagination, but it seemed that I was still traveling downhill.  Lookout Pass was 4,800', going downhill to Superior, which, according to one local, was 2,800', and Missoula is around 3,150'.  so a bit of climbing would be necessary.

The ride started off well with a reasonable pace that would eat up the miles until climbing would be necessary, a rate of 12-15 mph.  It seemed to be a bit downhill, which is nice now, but would mean more climbing to get back to Missoula's 3,150'.  I had an 11 AM lunch at a cafe in a small town called Alberton.  Less than 40 minutes later, I was on the road again.  I have to get there before 5 PM.

Those that know me know that I am careful about what I eat, following a low-fat diet regimen with small portioning.  this way my weight has been stable for years, yet if I want to indulge in something fattening, I could do so without guilt.  So it may come as a surprise that I have thrown that out the window for this trip.  I need the calories to run the engine, and I don't care if its a hamburger or fried chicken, as long as it is filling.  This may be an error in judgement, but it seems to me that, with all of this physical activity, there won't be much of a chance for fat to be stored.  A typical example was lunch today.  I had the special:  Patty melt, french fries, a cup of split pea soup and a large glass of milk, and lots of water.

As I was leaving Alberton, I met an interesting couple who were bicycle touring westward.  they had started in Dallas, journeyed to Yellowstone, went up into South Dakota, then to Missoula and west on I-90.  They were headed to Vancouver, B.C., then to Calgary.  I don't think that was their fianl destination.

The rest of the trip to Missoula was very picturesque, and I'm still going somewhat downhill.  Oh, those hills are going to be big ones.  Actually, I was 27 miles to Missoula from Alberton, and the miles went by quickly.  There were a few small hill, but soon I was circling Missoula on I-90, and the big hills were non-existent.  Believe it or not, I arrived at the Adventure Cycling Association office a ltittle after 2 PM.  There I bought a special sweat band headpiece (I'll explain later) and relaxed.  The ACA photgrapher walked into the conference room where I was and wanted to know if I was the owner of the large touring bike.  I said yes, and he wanted a photograph of the bike and I for his collection.

Hmm.  Where to stay for two nights.  I opted for the cheapest alternative and it was only a block away.  I needed some stamps--the Post Office was one block west.  I needed a computer--the library (where I am right now) was one block south.  I needed a replacement part for my hydration pack--it was three blocks south (a long ways, but I need the exercise:)

There are a couple of dozen restaurants within 5 blocks so I ate but not so fully since I would not be cycling much tomorrow except for around town (by 10 PM I was ravenouosly hungry).  Coincidently, Friday night was the first of their evening Art Walks where all the galleries stayed open.  It was fun strolling around.

 The next portion of my ride, starting Sunday morning carries a little dread with it.  The unseasonably cool weather has lowered the snow level down to 5,000'.  In the next six days before stopping in West Yellowstone, I have 4 mountain passes to ranging from 6,700'-7,300'.  Snow is a likelihood, but I am hopeful that it will not stick to the road, and also that I will not get too cold from the perspiration that climbing causes.  We will see what Sunday brings.

Will McMahan

Day Eleven-Thursday, June 5th
Mood:  energetic
Now Playing: Road Hog! Do those Cars and Trucks Think They Own The Road?

Wallace, where I stayed last night, is 14 miles from Lookout Pass.  My plan for today was to try to leave between 8 AM and 8:30 AM.  The bike trail from yesterday did not end in Wallace. I planned to take it 8 miles up the road to a town called Mullan.  Then there was only 6 miles to the summit.  It sure sounded like this was going to be a piece of cake.  Of course, past experience warned me to not get my hopes up.

There is a major storm coming my way from Seattle.  Supposed to be 35 mph winds with lots of rain.  Hopefully, I can get over the pass and duck into the "rain shadow" that the mountains offer, and, if I'm lucky, I'd stay dry.

The first part of the plan worked to perfection.  Finished breakfast at 8:05 AM, and I'm on the bike trail.

The second part, the bike trail, was just like yesterday, other than it paralleled I-90.  No solitude here, but it still was a nice ride.

Crossing over the summit was part three, and I was there by 11 AM.  Now it is mostly downhill for the next 47 miles.

 

Rememer how I froze yesterday on the Fourth of July Pass?  I was bound and determined not to recommit that mistake.  At the summit, I donned a thincross country ski hat that would fit under my bike helmet.  I was already wearing heavy socks and leggings.  I stuffed today's newspaper up under my jacket, and put on some huge winter bicyclin gloves.  Okay, I dare you to make me cold!  It didn't.

The trip down I-90 was not nearly as nice as I'd hoped.  The side surface was somewhat rough and seemed to not e well maintained.  This could be important. I like to cruise downhill between 30-35 mph, but I slowed down.  It was too dangerous, in my mind, and just asking for an accident.  There was also some roadwork which narrowed eastbound traffic to one lane.  This was okay as long as they left a bake lane, but one stretch, two miles long, there was no room for me and anyone else.  A helpful camper slowed down the traffic behind and I pedalled as hard as I could to get out of the way.  It didn't take long.

Considering that it is June and the weather is rainy and cloudy with high temperatures around 60, I asked a local what happened to summer? The local said they have four seasons aournd here:  pre-winter, winter, winter, and road construction.  That says it all.

I arrived in Superior, Montana, a bit before 4 PM, or so I thought.  When I had crossed Lookout Pass, the time changed from Pacific Standard Time to Mountain Standard Time.  So, in the eyes of the That will take a little getting used to.

Tomorrow is Missoula!  Then a Rest Day!! 

Will McMahan

Day 10-Wednesday, June 4th
Mood:  a-ok
Now Playing: Divine Providence--but whose Divinity?

When I opened the Coeur d'Alene motel room door, first thing in the morning, rain was falling at a 45 degree angle, branches flying around like the arms of a conductor.  It was almost enough for me to try to get more sleep.   But duty calls.  Despite the 25 mph wind forecasts, the wind died down as I fastened the panniers to my bike.  There was a soft rain all morning, enough to require a rain jacket and pants.

To my knowledge, there was only one way to Missoula from Coeur d'Alene, and that was on I-90.  Although most of the locals couldn't verify the legality of riding on I-90, I set off early with the goal of getting to a town, just this side of Lookout Pass, called Wallace.  The shoulders to I-90 were quite wide and the drivers quite courteous.

The trouble with exerting alot of energy when cycling with rain gear is that while the gear keeps the rain from penetrating, one gets soaked anyway from perspiration.

Around mid-morning, while riding through a rather large pull off area, I noticed a white car pull over in front about 1/4 mile ahead of me and park.  I hope it wasn't a policeman.  As I approached, trying to act as if I were doing nothing wrong, the door opened and an arm waved me to a stop.  What do I do now?  I know, I'll plead ignorance, not a big stretch, all things considered.

I pulled alongside the car and stopped next to the driver's door.  Inside was a rather large woman who definitely was not a cop.  It was worse.  She was a Jehovah's Witness.  She wanted me to have one of her religious tracts.  I graciously accepted, and we chatted for a bit.  When she learned that I was heading over the pass, she said that I should take the bicycle trail. It goes up close to the top.  I thanked  her and got back on the road, one tract heavier than when I started this morning.

Did I mention that at breakfast someone mentioned that I would be going over Fourth of July Pass, a very small pass, in their opinion?  I should have listened a little closer.  Yes it was a small pass, and totally misnamed as it offered little about which to celebrate.  However, once again I froze coasting downhill, only this time Karen wasn't there with our car for me to warm up in.  The first exit I came to, I turned off and stopped at a restaurant for lunch.  Upon eating and downing several cups of coffee (actually just holding the cup with both hands trying to get warm) I was still shivering.  So I brought in a couple of my panniers, went into the men's room, and changed into some dry clothes. Aah!  Now that is more like it!

Before leaving I chatted with several people about this supposed bike trail.  Sure enough, there was one, and I could get on it just five miles up I-90 at the Cataldo exit.  Maybe there was some Divine Intervention that had that lady stop. Had she not stopped, I would not have heard about this trail (which turned out to be terrific!).  I'm not sure whose God orchestrated our encounter, hers or mine.  They're probably the same.

One thing that I wanted to be sure of was to experience and see things of interest, and not get overly caught up with the process of the trip.  I wanted to smell the roses on the way (or whatever fragrant flora is in season).  So when I saw an exit sign that said "Cataldo Mission State Park", I was sure that this was not the right exit, but it intrigued me, especially when I saw this beautiful old mission on top of the hill.  I exited to check it out.

The Cataldo Mission was built in 1850 and is the oldest standing building in Idaho.  It is a marvelous piece of architecture, and was built with axes, drills and adzes, no saws.  The founding priest was schooled in architecture, art and was a physician (the only physician in the territory.  So not only is the Mission beautiful, he used his artistic talents to make it special. Very special.  It is too much to explain here, but understand that this landmark is truly remarkable.  Besides getting a personal tour by the park ranger, this was also an ideal time to have a couple of minutes of personal worship.

The bike trail at the next exit, was everyting promised and more.  I found out later that it had just been swept yesterday, and weaved through beautiful woods, wetlands, and meadows as it followed the Coeur d'Alene River upstream. Because it was once an old railroad track, the grade never exceeded 2% making for an easy, quiet, incredibly beautiful and peaceful ride to Wallace, Idaho.  I found out that the bike trail actually starts on the south side of Lake Coeur d'Alene and is around 75 miles long.  From Cataldo to Wallace was 22 wonderful miles of peace and solitude.

Wallace is a fascinating town and one that I would love to return and visit for a day.  The area is called Silver Valley because of the extensive silver mining, much of it still going on today.  Anyway, Wallace is sort of like being dropped into a town in the 1940s or 1950s. 

Tomorrow, I go over Lookout Pass, and enter Montana.  My destination will be a mid-point betwen Wallace and Missoula.

Will McMahan

Day Nine--Tuesday, June 3rd
Mood:  a-ok
Now Playing: How could I lose thee? Let me count the ways.

It's a fact that McMahans have great senses of direction.  Have I ever lost a car in a parking lot?  No.  Have I ever been lost?  Well, not often.  That is what makes today such a cunumdrum.

The plan for today was simple:  Ride downtown in Spokane; Enter the Centennial Trail (a Bicycle trail that connects Spokane with Coeur d'Alene (see, I can spell it now).  Then ride to Coeur.......  That doesn't sound too tough.  It's a short ride, as rides go, 40-50 miles.

Problem #1  I can't find the Trail.  Finally, I enter a Power Equipment store and ask for directions.  It helps that the store manager is an avid bicycler.  It didn't hurt that the entrance was two blocks away.  Most of the trail, except for downtown Spokane, was on the side of a street that parallels the Spokane River.

Problem #2  Apparently, its not enough to have a great sense of direction.  One also needs to pay attention to the signs.  When I finally acknkowledged that I was no longer on the trail (my keen sense of detection came forth after I had been riding through a residential district for 15 minutes), I asked for directions back to it from a kind gentleman.

Problem #3  Lots of times people who are giving directions do not really know either.  When I finally got back onto the trail, I had asked 9(!) people.  Most got me close.  The last person, of course, was dead on.

Problem #4  There was a detour because of major construction on a bridge.  Somehow I got lost again (I'm sure it was faulty signage on their part!), before a nice lady took pity on me and got me back on track.

Eventually, I entered Idaho.  It was a wierd feeling.  Sort of like entering Mexico or some other country.  I guess it was clearly a sign that I had closed one chapter of this journey, and was opening a new one. 

Rain.  Again.

My short term destination is Missoula.  It is around 165 miles on the other side of the Bitterroot Mountains and I have three days scheduled to get there.  Besides being three steps closer to my goal, it also will be a resting spot.  It will have been seven consecutive days of pedalling, and this child's body could use a break.

Will McMahan

Mood:  chillin'

Loved to get updated on your trip. Was out on the road for work last 4 days.

 Nice that Karen SAGed for you!!  Transition. Now that she is done with that, she can do all the things she has wanted to do, but you wouldn't let her. Boy, are you in for a surprise and the newly redecorated house when you get back!!!

 Now I guess it is you, the wind, the sky, and the road.

 Keep biking, and keep us all informed!!!!

Hawk