Mood:  d'oh

Cousin Will,

We're still planning on seeing you in Estes Park on July 1st. I'm keeping the hot tub warm for you.

Trail Ridge Road has been closed off and on due to some late spring snows. But I was up there shovelling this morning so it's open now.

I'm filled with admiration for you for taking on this epic journey. It's great that you're still on schedule. I have just one piece of advice for you: watch out for rattle snakes on the road as you cross Wyoming.

See you soon.

Cousin Dick Cross

Mood:  hungry

Slept.  Ate.  Fixed the bike.  Rested.  Ate.  Watched live grizzlies in captivity.  Ate.  Rested.  Hot tubbed.  Stretched.  Ate.  Napped.  Ate.  Watched movie.  Went to bed.

Will McMahan

Mood:  a-ok

Today was not going to be a difficult one.  It was 64 miles, with 1,700' of elevation gain. After the last few days, I was looking forward to today.  The views were supposed to be great and I had a very nice time-share room awaiting me at the other end.  Plus, this being my sixth day of riding, I was going to treat myself to two days of rest.

Delena had been gracious enough the day before to call some friends of hers and ask is they could put me up last night, which they agreed to.  Jack Finley and Jenn Doney were wonderful hosts, and treated me like family.  Besides their considerable artistic talent, they were interesting and fun folks.

Jack made the perfect breakfast for a touring bicyclist:  pancakes, eggs, sausage and orange juice.  I was able to test out Jack's theory that Jenn makes the strongest coffee in the world.  They were such nice people, and I was in no hurry to leave with such a short day ahead.  They left for work and I had some business to attend to, regarding my mother's finances, then I packed up and left at 9 AM.

There were likely not going to be any restaurants or general stores open until getting close to West Yellowstone, so I picked up a sandwich in Ennis for the road.  There was a small town (this typically means a general store/cafe/bar/campsites) up the road called Cameron.  West Yellowstone, here I come!

The first indication of trouble came quickly.  For the first time since leaving Colville I was riding into a strong headwind.  Between that and the slight elevation gain, I  was going much much slower than normal.  It is frustrating because not only does one have to pedal harder while going slower, but it means that  hours of pedalling will be added to the day.  Furthermore, I was under the impression that the distance was 64 miles.  It was 71.  I arrived in Cameron, the place 11 miles up the road.  It was 11 AM.  I was averaging about 6-6.5 mph.  Quick math showed that I would be lucky to get to West Yellowstone by 8-9 PM, if I could last that long.

My new strategy was to pedal consistently, not too hard and not too gently, and take fast breaks with no delays.  I hoped that the headwind would go away at some point.

Cameron had littled to choose from on the shelf, but I took what I thought might give me a little energy including some milk.  I gobbled everything down and got going.  An hour later, still into the headwind, I took a break.  Half a sandwich, a handful of trail mix and lots of water and I was on the road again.  This  was going to be a looong day.

The road was set up so that the bicycler had a rumble strip between the rider and the white line.   Unfortunately, the shoulder left to ride on varied between 18-24", not much if one wanted to look around at all.  I had to focus on the narrow shoulder or else find my self getting "rumble stripped" or in troulbe on the right in soft gravel.  Whatever panoramas were there, I was not able to enjoy as much as normal.

By the 25th or 30th mile the road had changed direction enough to minimize the headwind.  The climbing continued.  Five minute breaks every 1-1 1/2 hours.  I ran out of water but there was plenty around.  Slowly but surely I ran out of snack food, but I tried to space it so that I would be in West Yellowstone at that point.  The last 8 miles were into a strong headwind again, but who cares at that point.

When I arrived at West Yellowstone, it was 6:15 PM.  Of the 9 1/4 hours since I left near Ennis, at least 8 1/2 of it was solid, determined pedalling.  I don't remember being so exhausted.  Maybe the long previous day, or the combination of 4 mountain passes in the three previous days, helped to wear me down, but I was very, very tired.  And very hungry.

Of course, a hot shower and food in the belle helps!   Now I could do laundry (and boy, some of my clothes were in drastic need of laundering), rest, have lots of time to work on stretching with pilates, rest, eat, and rest.

I sure miss Karen.

This past week was a memorable one.  Great vistas.  Wonderful people.  Interesting challenges.  Every day was fun excepting today.

Oh, I almost forgot.  My odometer passed the 1,000 mile mark.  That means that of the 3,800 mile trip, I am over a quarter of the way to Raleigh.  Pleasant dreams.

Will McMahan

Mood:  energetic

I was up when Roger came downstairs to announce today's weather report.  The good news:  it was 34 degrees outside.  Definitely a warming trend.  Seriously.  The bad news:  possible thunderstorms and snow.

As I was packing up my gear, Roger brought his bicycle out and started getting it ready to ride, pumping up the tires etc.  Shoulder injuries has limited his bicycling of late, but we were going to ride several miles out of town together.

When we walked outside to depart , the sky was blue with a few clouds.  It was so warm, in fact, that I took off my jacket and rode wearing my longsleeved turtleneck.  That didn't last to long.

My first stop, Twin Bridges, was 28 miles up the road (down the road would be a more appropriate description, as the road had a slight downhill grade), and I was ready for an early lunch.  I ordered the special:  a Pastie.  Pasties are a dish that is popular in this area, originated in Butte (brought in by miners).  This particular pastie was made of hamburger, potatoes, carrots and stuff, cooked in a pie shell, and coated with gravy.  It had to have been 8" long, and was more than I could eat.

With the exception of the last few miles past the pass, the rest of the trip was slower, going back uphill, more so as I approached Virginia City.  Ten miles and a quick stop in Sheridan.  15 more and a break in Alder.  A short break in Virginia City, a town much like Bannack, with preserved buildings from the gold rush days.  Then another pass to climb, this one not being dignified with a name.  I can think of several names that would be appropriate but none repeatable.  It seemed steep.  Maybe I was just tired.

With great directions, I found the home of Jack Finley and Jennifer Doney.  It is high up on the hillside with a stunning view of the valley and mountains.  He has many skills and is currently delivering propane.  She is the Postmistress of Ennis.  They are artists in their own right and have some beautiful pieces on display at home.

We had an enjoyable evening, and I was blessed with an opportunity to catch up on this journal. 

Tomorrow will be West Yellowstone, knock on wood.  It is supposed to be a beautiful 64 mile ride, increasing in elevation until I get there.  Ennis is at 5,000'.  West Yellowstone is around 6,700'.

Did you notice no mention of the weather?  No thunderstorms, snow or rain.  Just a chilly wind.  A warming front is supposed to be coming in.  It will be interesting to see how that affects things.

Will McMahan

Hi Cousin! Great to talk with you on Saturday! I am thrilled to follow along on your adventure. I know you will make your NC goal, Enjoy the journey!

Safe travels,

Mike

Mood:  quizzical

I just read your postings, well scanned them. Haven't you had any run-ins with some crazy rabbit or bear or something?

 Hope you are having a great time!

WT

Mood:  not sure

There was no sense in getting up too early because the earliest I could eat breakfast would be around 7:30 AM.  There was about an inch of snow on the ground, none on the road.  Hmm.  Maybe I can make it over the passes after all.

My new Jackson Hole friends, Jim and Betty Walton, were leaving at 9:30 AM, so here was my plan.  I would leave at 8:30 AM, knowing that if something went wrong, they would be coming by a little over an hour later, and could rescue me.

It was 11 miles to Big Hole Pass.  Hardly anyone was on the roads.  At     8:40 I took off.  It was windy and snowing, just like yesterday.  I made good time, hoping to make the summit by 10:30.  A little over 2 miles from the pass, Jim and Betty eased up and asked if everything is okay.  I assured them that I was fine.  I made the summit aound 10 AM.

The truth is I felt confident that I could reach the summit.  I just wasn't sure what kind of reception the summit would give me.  And I was nervous about the descent.  It would be cold, but, hopefully, not slick.

It was cold and slick.  There was a long descent, and I refused to go over 15 mph.  I was freezing.  After 1/2 hour of this, I was shivering pretty bad.  Finally the road leveled off and I could pedal again, getting those legs moving, the blood pumping, and shivering a bit less.  Now the intense cold wind was the obstacle.

Before scaling the second pass, Badger Pass, I knew I needed some fuel (food) to drive the engine.  I found a spot  where, mysteriously, the wind stopped.  Immediately I pulled over and started to quickly get a sandwich out, when just as quickly the wind started whipping again.  I ducked down in the ditch using the big saddlebags to block the wind, but it was an exercise in futility.  I was freezing there.  Three bites of the sandwich and I was back on the bike pedalling hard.

Badger Pass was almost anticlimatic.  It was only 600' shorter than Big Hole Pass, but it was much tamer, and I got there in no time.  From there on out, it was 14 miles, all downhill to the outskirts of Dillon.  A measure of how different this was over the part between the passes, I, at one point, just took my hands off the brakes to see how fast the bike would go.  At 45 mph, I slowed it down again.

When I got into town, it wasn't even 1 PM yet.  48 miles and two mountain passes and done by 1 PM.  That probably won't happen again. 

In Dillon, I had made arrangements to stay overnight with a fraternity brother of mine, Roger Norris-Tull.  Roger is the program coordinator of Health and Human Performance for the University of Montana-Western.  We had not seen each other in 40 years.  There was a lot of catching up to do.

Roger developed a love of the wild outdoors while living in Alaska and spends much of his spare time building a cabin in a very remote property on Grasshopper Creek, that is way, way off the beaten track.  He loves it.  And, lucky guy that he is, his wife, Deleena, understands his need and supports his project.  She is the director of Science Education for the same campus.  They are two, very talented and special people, who I, by the grace of God, was able to visit for a day.

Roger took me out to a ghost town called Bannack.  At one time, Bannack was the Territoral Capital.  It was formed because of a gold strike.  It died quickly when other strikes were made.  But the buildings are still standing.  Because of the dryness, the wood is still preserved.  It was fascinating to walk into the hotel, with its huge winding staircase, and look at all of the rooms.  Bannack is an amazing treasure, much like Nevada City and Virginia City which I would be seeing tomorrow.

The next day, Thursday, I was to ride to, and stay in, Virginia City.  Then, I had another steep pass to climb on Friday, part of a hurculeon 84 mile effort, all on an uphill grade, to get to West Yellowstone.  So when Deleena mentioned that she had friends in Ennis with whom I could stay, I was somewhat interested.  When it was explained that if I would go over the pass tomorrow to Ennis, then it was only 64 miles to West Yellowstone, a far more manageable distance.  It just meant that I would have a longer day tomorrow, closer to 80 miles.  She called her friends and they gladly welcomed me for tomorrow evening.  It was a very special and gracious effort on her and their parts.  I am just amazed at people's generosity.

 Will McMahan

Hi Will,

Just want to let you know that the I'm thinking of you and I'm keeping you in my prayers! The class is asking about you and are missing you in "your spot" everyone is amazed at what you are doing! I hope the journey is going well and look forward to reading more about your adventures!

God is good all the time. All the time God is good!

Buffy

Mood:  a-ok

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