Wrapping it up

 
   Friends, if it's an adrenaline rush you seek, I highly recommend cycling out of town in the fog and half-light of early morning along narrow, winding roads, being passed by a parade of large construction vehicles piloted by a team of Neanderthals whose breakfast of Dunkin Donuts coffee and amphetamines is just kicking in.  Such was our last day on the road and quite a doozy it was.  Pennsylvania sent us off with a parting shot of horrific traffic and a series of six to eight hundred foot climbs that gave us our toughest climbing of the entire trip.  We must have climbed, seriously, four to five thousand feet in total in the first forty miles.  At this point we detoured from highway 6, south along the Susquehanna River, to meet with Marty in Pittston, PA for our escape rendezvous.  We un-ceremoniously loaded our gear in the back of his pickup and made for the home turf of Wayne, NJ and the end of our trip.
   At journey's end, from our home in California to New Jersey, we had traveled just over 3000 by bicycle, about 620 by vehicle, 750 miles by train and 120 miles by boat.  We repaired two flat tires and went through a set of tires each.  There were no mechanical breakdowns worth noting and only a minimal number of physical breakdowns aside from some sore rashy butts, a brief gout attack and my self-inflicted bratwurst poisoning.  We were flipped off twice and honked at only four times in anger and uncountable times in encouragement.  Along the way we met hundreds of wonderful, helpful people while running into only a few buttheads...too few to matter.  We lived on gas station food for what seemed like weeks and Kelly and I have made a solemn oath to never eat another honey roasted peanut for as long as we live.  Ditto for Jack's Links Beef Jerky.  Unbelievably, we encountered headwinds for only about a day and a half while enjoying numerous days of tailwinds, many of them real screamers. 
   Now that we’re back, people inevitably ask if there were times we just wanted to quit and go home.  Kelly and I never felt that way and although there were days where we were definitely ready to get the day’s riding over with we never even considered packing it in.  In fact, the oddest sensation we had was that the trip had been too easy and at some point, two thirds of the way across the country, we wondered how we had gotten so far.  I must say that, although some of the scenery was somewhat less than stimulating (think Wisconsin…gosh is that another silo, Wow!) I was never once bored riding through it.  There were a lot of hours of just being inside our own heads and I’d like to tell that I came to some profound insights into the meaning of life but I just can’t.  The fact is I don’t know what the Hell I was thinking for all that time.
   Along the way we learned a few things.  We learned that big things can be accomplished with many small steps.  We learned that we need way less to be happy, healthy people than we typically have.  It is an immutable law of bike touring that, even when there has been almost no traffic, a large truck will pass you on the steepest, narrowest part of any hill.  As in life, all the things we worried about; traffic, hills, wind, bugs, tornadoes, plague, pestilence turned out not to be big issues and, with all our efforts at planning, events seldom occur as we wish but they always turn out ok.  I learned to cook bratwurst thoroughly and that I hate raccoons.  I also learned that my wife, aside from being the most beautiful and sweetest gal in town, is a tough and resilient traveler whose great attitude helped make this a wonderful journey for both of us.  This will factor very favorably in her eight-year marriage review coming up next month.  (Announcement: for those of your who may be humor-challenged, the preceding statement was a joke).  In all, it was a great trip and I heartily recommend it to anyone who has a few months and more than a few dollars to spend.  Thanks to all of you who’ve joined us by reading this blog so, until our next adventure, this is Brad and Kelly signing off.
            Keep ‘em spinning

Oh, Canada..da da da dada da

   As we made our way toward the Canadian crossing we rode through typical Michigan countryside and got in late to a delicious dinner of Campbells soup for me and canned green beans for Kelly..Yummy! The campground started out quiet but soon our nightly entertainment started.  First was a local cat banging around in the garbage can near our tent.  After chasing the cat off and covering the can we settled in again until we were next treated to a loud cell phone argument between some guy and his girlfriend which was initially annoying and then quite funny as we heard him trying to weasel out of obvious lies.  Finally, his battery died and we were just dosing off when the friendly neighborhood raccoons started their rounds.  As you can tell, the bloom is off the camping rose for us and we are pretty much ready to rejoin society.
  This campground made us wonder about a phenomenon we have encountered throughout the midwest.  The campgrounds are mostly full of RV's apparently parked in parks for the summer.  They have decks, patios, lawn furniture and tiki lamps surrounding their spaces and are parked cheek to jowl with a hundred other similar rigs around a quarter acre pond in hot, humid, bug infested woods.  What are their homes like that this is the way they choose to spend their weekends?  We have yet to figure this out and have seen it since we entered Minnesota.
   We next made our way to Marine City, Mi where we were planning to take the ferry across the St Clair River into Ontario.  As we pulled up to our motel in a rather lively thunderstorm my tire exploded.  I literally walked my bike into the lot to deal with it in the comfort of our room. I found that my tire had worn completely through and was shredded beyond repair.  I had brought a spare for Kelly's bike but none for mine (dont ask why).  There is no bike store within 30 miles of Marine City and since it was Friday night, an internet purchase couldn't arrive until Monday sometime.  We were stranded! Luckily, there was a young fella, Ryan, who was fixing a leak in our motel toilet and overheard us talking about our problem.  He said he was going to the sporting goods store and would give us a ride.  We gladly took up his offer and by afternoon were back with new tire in hand.  I went to install my tire and found it was an inch too big for the rim.  Apparently, a 26" tire is not necessarily a 26" tire...you need the right 26" tire.  Back to square one. At the last minute I found a bike store with an employee who lived in the town where we were stranded.  He dropped the right tire off on his way home and we were back in action.
    The next morning, after a short ferry ride costing a whole dollar, we entered Canada for our ride through Ontario.  We enjoyed a beautiful day, sunny and cooler, riding along the St Clair River and then inland through well kept farmland and quaint Canadian towns.  We ended our day at Rondeau Provincial Park on the north shore of Lake Erie.  The park was spacious and very well kept and we had one of our best camping nights of the trip.
   We rose early and got a good jump on the day hoping to beat the predicted increasing temperatures.  Since we had sent our cooking stove on ahead, we hoped to catch some breakfast in the first town along the route, some six miles down the road.  What we found was a nearly deserted town with a diner which looked to have been closed for years.  The next eatery shown on our map ended in similar results.  Finally, after 30 miles of hungry riding we came across a little roadhouse for a nice attitude-improving lunch.  The riding was very pleasant again through typical flat farmland with little traffic. Our day ended in mid afternoon in the little beach town of Port Stanley where, after failing to find the campground shown on our map, we "bit the bullet" and settled on a very overpriced motel room.  However, it was right on the beach and we enjoyed a great afternoon of lounging on the white sands of Lake Erie.  Again, we were pleased and surprised at how clean the lake waters are these days.  Port Stanley is a pleasant little beach town which reminded me of some of the beach towns I remember from the Jersey shore of years ago...just with more class.  We liked this town very much.
   The next morning dawned with cloudy skies which soon turned to rain.  Unlike our western storms, the rainstorms here are pretty warm and we rode for several hours without rain gear.  We found that, if wearing rain parkas while riding, you are wet from sweat and hot instead of just wet.  I'm sure we looked miserable but it's really not a bad way to go.  We pulled in for the night at another provincial park where we scored a site just 50 ft from the shore of the lake.  Our friend Steve (Otto) from back home met us there for a couple days of traveling. He was on his own cross country journey in his Volkswagon van and we were thrilled to share such extravagances  as a cooler with cold beers and a home cooked chicken dinner.  It was another night of great camping in a Canadian park and we were becoming very impressed with their parks.  Imagine all this and free health care...maybe they are on to something.
   In the morning, Otto and I took off for a 'guys' ride while Kelly took a well-earned day off driving.  It was a real treat for me to ride without the dreaded panniers on my bike and I felt as if I was on a motorcycle.  After another great night in camp we took a day to be real tourists and drove to Niagara Falls to enjoy the wonders of nature with an estimated 10,000 Japanese tourists.  It really is a remarkable sight which was only slightly diminished by forking over $15 to the Jimmy Buffet retirement fund for a mediocre burger at Magaritaville...should be named Mediocre-ville.
   It was great to share time with a hometown friend but was time to return to our bike journey so in the morning we had Otto smuggle us back into the US at Buffalo, NY and drop us at a campground along our route.  We now headed south to Pennsylvania for the final leg of our trip.  In our first Pa camp we encountered the beast I've been dreading since we left Ca...the New Yorker!   " Bobby! Whataya doin?  Get the Hell ova heah"  We had finally arrived in the East!
   In the morning we completed a short 40 mi. ride to meet up with Ian Marshall, an old high school friend, who lives with his charming wife, Megan, in State College, Pa where they are both professors at Penn St.  We had a great dinner at a local brew pub and in the morning Ian and Megan joined us for a ride as they guided us on a tour of the rail trail up the Grand Canyon of Pa.  It was a beautiful ride with cooler, dryer weather and was one of the most enjoyable touring days of the trip.  We stopped in the nearly perfect little town of Wellsboro for our afternoon ice cream break....if there had been an outdoor pub we might still be there.  Moving on, the hills increased and, after a long search for any campgrround or motel, we were lucky to get the last motel room in town under $120.  Apparently, there is gas field development going on in northern Pa and the workers are taking up all available motel rooms with prices rising to meet the new demand.  After riding another day with deteriorating roads and heavy construction traffic we are ready to call it quits and have arranged for family to come rescue us with a ride from the Scranton area, near the NJ border.  Tomorrow we will ride our final day of our tour, a 60 mi. ride to our tour...Check in again for our last post and a wrap up of our tour.
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Mamma said there'd be days like these...

   We continued our journey east through Wisconsin through typical farmland scenery and nice roads with little traffic.  Wi. farms are all very picturesque and immaculately kept. Even old farm machinery seems to be artfully placed.  Days have continued really hot and humid so we try to get on the road by 6:30 or so.  Neither of us (no, really, me either) wants to get up at five but it's really a great time to ride.  Beside being cooler, there is more opportunity for seeing wildlife.  As we are cruising past a wooded cornfield Kelly spots a "Very Large" black dog by the road ahead engaged in taking his morning 'movement'.  As we get closer we see that it's actually a large black bear (answering that age old question...No, they do not shit in the woods). We get the pepper spray ready, just in case, but, of course he runs off as we come up to him...a nice treat.  Near the end of the day we come to a section of road construction on our route.  Since detours tend to be lengthy in these parts we decide to go for it.  It ends up being about two miles of loose gravel which Kelly handles wonderfully with her loaded bike and trailer.  I'm more impressed every day with how tough she's gotten and how she handles anything that comes along.  We end up lounging by the pool in a very nice campground and being treated to an amazing rain and lightning storm from the safety of the camp game room.
   Our last day into the ferry town of Manitowoc seems long due to increased hills and legs tired from six consecutive days riding.  We finally get to town and treat ourselves to a well earned night in a motel and a night on the town with a good dinner and trip to a blues club.  The ferry ride across Lk Michigan is a nice change from riding and we enjoy the four hour, 120 mile crossing.  The lake feels like the ocean once away from shore and looks surprisingly clean.  We've made an on-line reservation in a Ludington, Michigan motel and, as sometimes happens with the budget-concious traveler, the accomodations are somewhat less than five-star.  The motel marquis boasts a "love tub" available but I tell Kelly I tried to get it but it is currently being disinfected.  Ludington is a pretty small town, right on the lake, and we go downtown for a late dinner in another nice brew-pub...they sure do that well around these parts.  After a short morning ride we spend the day sunning and swimming at a beautiful white-sand beach along the refreshing waters of Lake Michigan and spend the night in the state park campground.
   As we begin our ride the next morning we immediately like the riding in Michigan.  Our route takes us through nice hardwood forests, more open and sunny than the northwoods of Wi., and flat roads with little traffic that wind through recreational "lake communities" and little towns.  We can't believe how far we've come and congratulate ourselves on how easy the ride has been. The day ends in a nice, mostly deserted, state campground and my last journal entry reads "This ride has almost been too easy.  we've had nothing go wrong at all"...I should have known better.
  It started about an hour after we went to sleep.  Kelly woke me saying "There's something out there."  We could here a kind of step-step-thump noise.  Captain Ahab on a midnight stroll?  We shine our lights out the tent flap to see five sets of glowing eyes at the edge of our camp.  Being 'the Man' I'm elected to check it out and go out to find a raccoon family dragging my fully loaded food pannier into the woods.  The big one leading the pack looks like a damn wolverine but gives up my pack without a struggle and they go off to torment some other camper.  We bring the food pannier into the tent and spend the next sleepless hour or so listening to the neighboring camps chasing off the intruders and are just falling asleep when they come back to get chased off again.  This time I pile all the packs on our trailer and turn on the strobe warning light to keep them away. At this point, I'm starting to feel a little queasy but don't think too much of it and try to settle down to finally get some sleep.  The raccoons continue making their rounds of the campground and I'm still awake and feeling worse by the minute.  A half hour later I'm in the grips of the worst nausea I've ever experienced and crawling out the tent door for a barf-fest like I've never experienced.  With bodily fluids spouting from every available orifice, I'm purging everything I've ever eaten...there's that penny I swallowed when I was six.  The rest of the night is spent laying curled up in the dirt outside the tent cycling through a sweat-freeze-hurl sequence, wishing for the raccoon-wolverine to come rip my throat out and put me out of my misery.  Things have not improved by morning and there is little Kelly can do for me.  I continue to lay there til late morning when it is starting to get really hot again.  We can't bear the thought of a long, hot afternoon at this camp and Kelly finds some cabins we can stay in, but they are six miles away and I'm still feeling really weak (we figure the culprit was an undercooked bratwurst I cooked as a pre dinner snack). A couple of water bottles over my head revive me a little and we mount our bikes to wobble off to find our haven.  After riding about three miles we check the map and find we are gong the wrong direction.  We reverse our path and go for a while more only to come to a dead end...WRONG WAY AGAIN,  Remember we've had no sleep or food.  We reverse again and go back to our first intersection which, conveniently has no signposts.  We've now gone six miles and are a mile from our last camp.  We pull out the ipad, with the gps, and, even with a 'you are here' mark, in our addled state we don't know which way to go and it's VERY HOT!  A passing motorist gets us pointed in the right direction and we finally reach our cabins after the longest ten miles I've ever ridden.  The cabins are very 'rustic' but are a refuge from raccoons and sun and we're grateful to be there.
   By morning I've recovered enough to hit the road again and we wobble off to our next adventure vowing never to offend the travel gods again.   The next couple of days are spent cycling the pleasant roads of Michigan and we enjoy another 36 mile stretch of rail-trail riding, this time on the Pere Marquette trail system across central Mi. We decide to rest up for a day in a motel in Bay City, just south of Lake Huron and on the Saginaw River.  It's a pretty town with a nice lakefront area and we can't tell if it's an up and coming place or town on the decline.  Turns out to be the latter case...too bad.  We're now waiting out some predicted, severe thunderstorms and will be heading out shortly. Hopefully, by the weekend we'll be crossing into Ontario, Canada
   Until nextime...
  

Crossing Middle America

   As we near our next state line, Wisconsin, we are treated to more mellow roads through the fertile farmlands of Minnesota.  The riding here is not so spectacular as the western states but is very peaceful and we often get lost in the moment of cruising through the miles of green fields and quaint farm houses.  The afternoons are really starting to heat up and we are relieved to come upon the Adventure Cycling Bunkhouse near Dalbo, Mn.  The bunkhouse is a free service run by an ex-military, turned farmer, named Donn Olsen.  Donn started the bunkhouse in 2005 when he helped out a couple of cyclists who needed a place to camp.  He found there was a need for places to stay along the Adventure Cycling route and he enjoyed meeting with touring folks.  He finished off the lower floor of his unused barn, put in some sleeping rooms and created the wonderful oasis that many now enjoy.  After a hot afternoon of cycling Kelly and I were thrilled to walk into the air conditioned main room complete with a stocked refrigerator, ice cream, frozen pizza, cold drinks, ours for a small donation, and a hot plate for cooking.  A clean solar shower was also available.  All this for free.  Donn even goes out to rescue the occasional stranded cyclist...the man's a saint.
   Our last day in Minnesota found us crossing the Mississippi River, already a large, powerful, muddy river, before crossing into Wisconsin at the town of St croix Falls.  Our day finished with a very hot climb with busy traffic out of the river valley in the Wi side where we treated ourselves to an evening at a nice hotel with a pool and spa with a day off the following day...a nice break after a week of cycling.  We find that about 5or 6 days in a row is about our max.
   Our first real day of cycling Wi took us through lush, rolling terrain across more farmlands and wooded areas.  As the afternoon wore on the hills became steeper and more frequent.  In  a place where the don't have a ski hill with more than 400 ft of vertical how can the riding be this tough?  After a night at a pleasant little camp on the Chetek River we headed out in the rain to see what else Wi had to show us.  After a wrong turn, resulting in a 10 mi. detour, we got back on track on deserted roads snaking through some deep north woods country.  No description of Wisconsin is complete without mentioning their state bird...the deer fly.  these nasty little motivators definitely keep you on the move.  While mosquitos seem to prefer tapping into Kelly, the deer flies obviously prefer man-flesh.  Powering my bulky touring bike through the northwoods with my limbs flailing wildly I must have looked like nothing so much as an entrant in a Special Olympics cycling event.
   We're getting into some very hot afternoons now and, although the riding is great, counting the lite beer cans along the road is losing its entertainment value.  Actually, I'm a bit disappointed...I thought  Wisconsans had better taste in beer.  Like much of the country, the midwest is having an especially hot and humid summer with little rain.  It's getting too hot to camp and we seem to be moteling more and camping less as we go along.  After spending last night at the  "Wildlife Bar and Campground"  (at least they have their priorities straight) we got on the road by six and were done by 10:00 with the temperature already a sultry 91 degrees. We are currently holed up in a motel in Shawano, Wi escaping the heat in our air conditioned room. I'm hoping to ride into Manitowac Wednesday with an old high school friend, Bob Peschel and we should be at the ferry to cross Lake Michigan on Thursday where we will be entering our final time zone and onward to Michigan, Ontario and the final leg of our trip.

Escaping The Great Plains

   When last seen, your fearful travelers were quivering in fear of the North Dakota wastelands.  Not wanting to leave Montana just yet we decided to take a couple of days exploring the Bear Paw Mts. south of Havre, Mt.   We were delighted to find gently ascending hills into an area of pretty green hills at elevations of about 4000 ft.  We spent a couple of days relaxing by the lake and taking some nice bike rides without carrying any gear.  After a month of carrying 40 or 50 lbs of extra weight every day it was a joy to ride unencumbered.  Being on bikes, we were lacking in cold beverages and after making friends with the very friendly RV campers next door we ended up accepting the offer of some cold beers.  I must admit to drinking 4  Bud Lites (judging by the cans along the road, this the official beer of Montana.  It does my heart glad to know all the Montanans drinking and driving are watching their weight) and spent most of the night getting up to pee...they sure were cold though.
   Back in Havre we loaded up for the 13 hr train ride across No. Dakota.  At the last minute we changed our destination to Fargo as it was on our Adventure Cycling route.  In the Amtrak station we met David and Nick, two young cyclists from Wa. also skipping ND.  They had ridden 60mi east of Havre before hearing the the horror stories of what lay waiting in ND before coming back to get the train.
   For those of you who have never traveled by train, you must try it sometime.  The seats are roomy, you can look at the scenery, and the whole experience is far more laid back than air travel.  You can bring food or beverages on with you or eat in their dining car (try the chicken!)  We spent the afternoon making Jack and Cokes with our new cyclist friends while watching the mind numbing scenery of ND glide by the viewing windows of our air conditioned car delighted by the fact that we were not cycling this 700 miles.  Later, after dinner in the dining car, Kelly and I watched 4th of July fireworks light up the twilight sky under a full moon rising over the plains...very magical.  Of course, the down side of train travel is rolling into Fargo, ND at 4am and having to reassemble your bikes for a walk to a motel for a couple hours sleep before shoving off for our next adventure.
   Within minutes of leaving Fargo we entered Minnesota.  We left the arid plains behind and entered the Corn (or soy) Belt.  The riding was flat and easy with little traffic and beautiful farmland all around. Over the next  two days (with several torrential downpours thrown in just to keep us on our toes...I also discovered that my 25 year old rain jacket is not waterproof...go figure!) we found our way to Fergus Falls and the start of the Central Lakes/Lk. Wobegon trail system.  This is a wonderful bike trail that goes most of the way across Mn on old railroad bed.  The pavement is "champagne powder" asphalt and the scenery is beautiful, going through endless cornfields and many lakes.  The best part... no cars or hills more than a 2percent grade. Along the way, we were hailed by an older gentleman on a recumbent bike with hearty "Where ya from?"  He said his name was Myrvin ("With a 'y'!!) Secord.  He rides about 8000 mi a year and was on his way for an 80 mi jaunt this day.  He informed us that the secret to a long life is "Get lot's of exercise, eat right, and don't use sun screen (causes cancer) or toilet paper...you ever see a cow or elephant use toilet paper?"  He had me on that one...who am I to argue with success? We are now camped in the city park in Bowlus, Mn  The gal in the cafe who is in charge of camping says "The bathroom doors  lock at dusk so just stick a shoe in the door over night."  The adventure continues as we head east into Wisconsin by day after tomorrow.  We should make good time from here on and have a bet for our ETA in NJ...Kelly says Aug 15 or sooner and I have the 16th or later.  Place your bets now and get a chance to win a slightly used bike saddle...I never want to see that thing again!

Glacier and Beyond

   Leaving Whitefish, we enjoyed a short and scenic ride through rolling countryside to a delightful camp at the town of West Glacier.  If you are ever out this way and need a camping place this is the place to be.  They have nice tree covered sites for RV's and a spacious, grassy lawn for tents.  The open-air cafe offers great food at a good price and a suitably funky atmosphere.  The next day was devoted to some very necessary and messy bike maintenance in the morning and a great raft trip down the middle fork of the Flathead River. The Middle Fork runs through some great country between Glacier Park and the Bob Marshall Wilderness.  The rapids were class 3 and had some good size waves...quite a nice trip.
   WOW!   Superlatives cannot describe the scenery in Glacier Park.  Not wanting to grunt our way on bikes up the Going To The Sun Road (the steep, narrow, winding road which is the only way through the center of the park) we rented a car and took a big loop through East Glacier and back across the park.  The weather gods smiled on us once agajn and the day which had started out overcast went blue for us.  The road had only opened a week before and there was still plenty of snow up high with water cascading everywhere.  The mountains and huge valleys here are just too spectacular to describe.  At Logan Pass, the highest elevation of the road, we got out to gawk with the other tourists, and were treated to a mountain goat posing for pictures about twenty feet from our car.  I tried to get Kelly to go up and give him a hug for a photo op but she wouldn't go for it.  The road is under repair so we spent some time stuck in a hi-elevation traffic jam...not a bad place to be stuck but I couldn't help but wonder what a mess this place has got to be in mid season.  I was surprised to find that the elevation of the park, in general, is not very high.  The town of West Glacier sits at about the same elevation as our home in No. Cal and Logan Pass is at about 6200 ft...about the same as the hills we ski on at home.
   We were now faced with biking over Marias Pass, the highest elevation and biggest bike climb of our trip. We had driven some of the road going to the put-in for our raft trip and it was not encouraging.  The road is winding, narrow, has no shoulders, and (for some insane reason) a speed limit of 70 mph.  Oh yeah, and the day we were planning to go heavy winds, 40 degree temps and thunderstorms were predicted...who wouldn't want to do that?!  Luckily we planned ahead and drove our bikes and most gear to a hostel in East Glacier, on the other side of the pass.  On departure day we were glad to have planned ahead as we woke to a lightning/hail storm as we broke camp.  We loaded up our tent and minimal gear and jumped on the Amtrak train for a very pleasant trip across the Continental Divide...kinda wimpy but safe and dry.
   The rest of this cold and rainy day was spent holed up in the East Glacier Lodge with many other stormbound travelers.  The lodge is a huge old timber framed structure, three stories inside with three foot diameter log columns supporting the upper balconies and an 8 ft wide roaring fire.  Reading by the fire with a nice toddy would have completed the day but, alas, life can be cruel sometimes...the lodge sits on the Blackfeet (or is it Blackfoot?) reservation and, as it was election day for them, no alcohol could be served.  I reflected that, if the US had that rule, the world may have avoided 8 yrs of the G. Bush presidency.  The hostel where we had dropped our gear ended up being booked for the night so the owner was kind enough to let us camp in the yard.  However life is seldom perfect and we found ourselves sharing the yard with a large and, apparently, very well fed dog.  After shoveling a spot for the tent we dined at the attached restaurant which had, in my experience, the best Mx food on the planet.  We spent the rest of the evening chatting with several of the hikers at the hostel.  Very pleasant and interesting folks who were heading all the way to Yellowstone.  The wind blew so hard during the nit the tent was actually folded on our legs at times and we decided on a later start for the next morning.
    Our next day was an easy 50 mi downhill run to Cut Bank with a screaming 20 mph tailwind.  We averaged 15 mph for the day (positively blazing on a loaded touring bike) as we watched the newly snow capped Rockies recede in our mirrors.  We had managed to cross the divide without doing a single climb over 1000 ft and that was in Washington!  Take that Lewis and Clark!
   The next few days we spent rolling over the Great Plains.  I was thinking I would find this boring but am fascinated by the shear space here.  This is called Big Sky Country and for good reason.  The sky is a presence here and the predominant feature of the landscape.  The riding was easy and the weather gods cooperated with generous tailwinds that enabled us to put in some pretty easy 60 mile days.
  One of the things Kelly and I are enjoying most about this trip is all the people we meet and just seeing a variety of local cultures.  As I waited outside a Cut Bank grocery for Kelly I found myself in conversation with a 30 something Indian fellow.  He was (sort of) telling me something about the name of the local tribes and I wasn't following well.  When I asked what he was up to today he quite frankly told me he was "drinkin"..he seemed well on his way to reaching his goal for the day but he showed me the can of beer in his pocket as if I needed proof.  I was about to ask a question I'd been pondering for days; is it "one Blackfeet person" or "one Blackfoot person".  It came to me that the finer points of grammar were probably beyond my new friend's mental capacity at the moment and left my unanswered question to ponder for another 4 or 5 hours of pedaling enjoyment.  As I continued to wait, a pretty young lady crossed the parking lot.  Dressed in stiletto heels and a nice cocktail dress (where the heck was she going at 9:30 in Cut Bank?) she was the picture of the young debutante.  That picture was shattered as she hocked up and spit out a wad that would have done a longshoreman proud...Gotta love country girls.
   And now here we are in Havre, Mt and I have to report some news that will, no doubt, disappoint some of you.  We have decided to wimp out again and take the train to Grand Fork, Mn, skipping all of N. Dakota.  Several factors have brought us to this decision.  Looking at our progress to date it is apparent that we will not be able to cycle the entire way in our timeframe?  A month into our trip and we are only a quarter of the way.  Another reason is the unanimous reports we have heard about the conditions in eastern Mt and North Dakota (their motto"Don' even think of coming here.") It seems there is an oil boom going on and the poorly maintained roads are terrorized by drunken, methed-out oil workers.  Since this is the farthest point east where we can ship our bikes on Amtrak with us we will be exploring the local Bear Paw Mts for a couple of days and shipping out for Grand Forks, Mn...the farthest point west where we can unload our bikes.
  Until next time, have a great fourth.

Montana mountains

   We spent a great weekend enjoying the company and hospitality of Bill and Anita in Sandpoint, a great town in a beautiful setting on Lake Pend Oreille.  We ate way too much and were treated to the maiden voyage of Jim and Laurie Armbruster's (Anita's daughter) pontoon boat.  I told that old joke about the two happiest days in a boat owner's life...you know, the day they get their boat and the day they get rid of it. That turned out to be oddly prophetic as the engine died in the middle of the lake and we had to be towed back in by the marine police.  Spirits remained high and we're sure the boat will be up and running in no time.
   We decided to spend an extra day in Sandpoint because of bad weather and I got the chance to hone my tiling skills by working on the grout and caulking in the shower.  It worked out great for all as I was getting antsy with our third day off the bikes.
   Finally back on our bikes again, we took off under grey skies toward Montana.   WOW, almost immediately we started with some eye popping scenery.  Our map took us on a detour from the main route which followed a broad valley with steep walled hills looming over beautiful green meadows.  We ran into a couple of young fellows bike touring the same way as we are.  It was 1:00 by this time and they were planning on going another 70 miles that day...Oh to be young again!  They had left from Seattle and told us how they'd had eight dog attacks in two miles going through the indian reservation in Washington...yikes!  We opted for a more modest 45mile day and ended up riding under clearing skies to a very pleasant RV park on the Clark Fork River.  We've met so many wonderful people on this trip and spoke to a nice woman at the park who had done a similar trip years ago and offered us anything we need while we were camped there.
   In the morning we were escorted up the Bull River by puffy white clouds in a deep blue sky.  The air here, after a few days of rain, seems unnaturally clear.  It seems as if the hills and trees are magnified and all our senses feel hyper sensitive.  We're not even to Glacier Park yet and already feel overwhelmed by the scenic overkill of this area. In the afternoon we took a break and hiked down to Kootenai Falls on the river of the same name.  This is where they filmed the gnarly river scenes for the movie The River Wild.  Very impressive.  I have never seen hydraulics like this and the power of the water was truly amazing. 
   Our morning ride took us up the Kootenai River, past the Libby Dam and along Lake Kookanusa.  We enjoyed a perfect day of riding with beautiful sunny skies,  little traffic and wonderful scenery.  We spent the night at a nearly deserted USFS campground and enjoyed a (very) brief bath in the snowmelt lake and a glass of wine on the fishing dock.  However, no place is perfect and we spent a somewhat nervous night after reading the numerous signs warning of bears in the area...and yes, we were in Grizzly country.  The camp host helped by informing us that MOST of the grizzles were on the other side of the lake...very comforting.  We strung our food up and spent a rather uneasy night but all was quiet and we woke with all body parts still attached.
  The weather turned on us a bit the next day and we started our ride under threatening skies.  After a good lunch in the cute town of Eureka, Kelly suggested that we make a "real" ride of it and go all the way to Whitefish...the next place with a shower (and no grizzlies).  We'd already ridden 35miles of hills and it was now 2:00 but what the heck.  We rode up and down more hills like crazy for another 48 miles and finished out with some very sore bodies for a 7:30 finish at a Whitefish motel...what a day!  Whitefish has been somewhat over run with the super rich and late in the day we took a very pleasant detour which took us off the highway along a nicely kept, winding road past "designer ranches" with ornate iron gates and animatronic deer prancing across perfect green meadows.
   Before leaving town we sat at a sidewalk cafe having a bite when we were surprised to run into Mark and Sally Cheney, friends from Siskiyou County...what a small world.  We finished up this leg of our trip with a blessedly short ride of 30miles into West Glacier where we will be taking a couple of welcome days off to rest our legs and explore Glacier National Park.