Surrender: A Day in the Life of a Cycle Tourist

Our view for the last couple weeks: hay fields and open roads.

Near the headwaters of the Missouri River, Chelsea cruises through our view for the last couple weeks: hay fields and open roads. Hazy from Washington fires and hot as a firecracker in July.

The day’s intensity ratcheted higher like a rising guillotine blade. 99 degrees. 25 mph headwinds with gusts. Nothing except barb wire fences whistling in the wind for 80 miles in front of us. The “town” we’d just passed through, Mosby, consisted of two houses, one abandoned with a roof caving in. A rippling series of long rollercoaster hills spelled our doom in thousands of feet of elevation to climb that day. And there we were, two specks on the ocean of the plains, beat down and buffeted, with nary even a cell phone signal to be found to even complain on Facebook. Good thing I have a blog and can do it later!

Sometimes, the warrior’s path is to push on, head down into the morass, battling our way to victory. We all are stronger than we think, both mentally and physically, and I am certainly in the Stoic’s camp believing that suffering makes you stronger and better equipped to handle future adversity. I find that small challenges and tests will often make life’s tougher obstacles seem easier in comparison, and am occasionally circumspect enough to cherish the pain afterward.

Cranking into the wind in the Montana plains.

Dakota cranking into the wind in the Montana plains.

This, however, was not one of those days! While we wake up with tired bodies every morning, on this day our legs hung like lead pendulums churning away in a thick soup of blasting hot air. We’d pushed through 60 mile scorchers before, yet this total feeling of exhaustion was like a crashing wave trying to drown us.

Only 25 miles in, with 50 to go, we found a rest stop in a fancy new building in the least populated area of Montana. Why they put it there, I have no idea. The cold, filtered water (most water in the plains tastes like warm dog farts) and hard slat benches to relax upon in the air conditioned space made it feel like Cleopatra’s palace. I sat and relished the cold air and took on the unofficial and unpaid Greeter of Road Trippers for awhile, chatting with each new arrival. “Heyyyy, where ya headed? Seen any stores to the east of here? No?”

The motorcyclists have been awesome! Super friendly and always interested in talking to us. Or giving me a fist bump on the highway. Good thing - the Sturgis Rally in South Dakota attracts 500,000 visitors and is starting while we're here!

The motorcyclists have been awesome! Super friendly and always interested in talking to us. Or giving me a fist bump on the highway. Good thing – the Sturgis Rally in South Dakota attracts 500,000 visitors and is starting while we’re here!

After much deliberation, we listened to our tired bodies and scoped out a spot under a picnic structure in the far corner of the parking lot. Baked brown earth lay on the other side of a sagging fence and semi trucks pulled in and out every so often, but we chugged frosty water, threw down a tent footprint and sleeping pads and lay on them with sticky backs. All our technology came up blank looking for a signal, and that was ok. Our Truckstop Hilton provided shade, solace and relief from blasting winds and it felt good.

Home sweet home at our rest stop.

Home sweet home at our Truckstop Hilton.

We’d done enough pushing through adversity for the day – there will be plenty more of that to come in future days. For now, a concrete pad and picnic table in the middle of nowhere Montana felt like a warm hug from Grandma. We reclined, napping and reading, for the afternoon, then justified carrying our emergency backpacking meal by gobbling it up for dinner. Dessert was a 180 degree lightning show crackling in the distance, the rumble of semis thundering behind us. (Why do trucks leave their engines running nonstop?!)

Next day, after absolutely terrible sleep thanks to constant semi traffic, we rose early and vanquished the remaining 50 miles on another 100 degree day with fresh(er) legs. It was a good reminder that while usually we press through biking and life doing things even when it’s tough, a day like this needn’t be misconstrued as weakness. Instead, it takes a different strength to accept our lot and deal with struggles one day at a time in a way that builds cumulative success. And, for us at least, that’s what it takes to ride through barren countryside all the way across this giant country!

A vivid sunset on the plains.

A vivid sunset on the plains.

Middle of nowhere on the plains.

Middle of nowhere on the plains. Click for full view.

FarmFit > CrossFit

Using the quad power from cycling to help out on a farm during a rest day near Ft. Benton, Montana.

A quick cross-training hay bale workout on a hazy rest day in central Montana. We stayed near the headwaters of the Missouri at a friend’s farm. Photo credit Chelsea the Rockstar.

Bicycle Touring Logistics: 1,000 Miles of Nuts and Bolts

A bee explores a sunflower as Chelsea whizzes past in the Plains.

A bee explores a sunflower as Chelsea whizzes past in the Plains.

Life on a bike tour is a simple existence, and over 1,000 miles cycling in the last few weeks, our daily existence has hit a rhythm of sorts. This post describes the different aspects of the day-to-day logistics underpinning the soaring views, descents off mountain passes and hanging with wonderful people. After all, surviving a journey like this requires staying on top of practical, boring tasks, even when we’re exhausted and grimy from a hard day of riding. Which is every day!

What’s Our Day Look Like?

Each day we aim to pedal our way 50-60 miles on quiet highways or back roads to our destination. Distance per day, with a peak so far of 74 and a low of 28, largely depends on elevation gain and whether there are any services to be had such as water, stores and restaurants. For example, we’ll ride 30 miles and then 65 the next day to avoid a huge day or dodge camping in an oil field or on a ranch where we wake up with a bull steer stomping on our face. Also, we didn’t bring a water filter because apparently filtering puddles filled with arsenic and pesticides will turn your oatmeal and hair green, so our no-services range is about 100 miles.

For those of you picturing us hammering straight through the day, let me quickly dispel that notion. Bike touring is about the journey! Breaks along the way, usually every hour or so, are for food, stretching or lying flat on our backs in the middle of a field, which is just as nice as it sounds unless there are mosquitoes or no shade. We stop anywhere that seems interesting, be it to wander around museums (still searching for the World’s Biggest Ball of Twine), eat (constantly), meet people (the weirder, the better) or simply catch a break from the taint-grinding of multi-day long-distance cycling.

Catching a lunch break in SW Montana on a back road.

Catching a lunch break in SW Montana on a back road.

And so our days are spent pedaling for 4-8 hours and 10-12 hours from start to stop, passing through small towns of 50 people up to a few thousand. Rural America at its best! Let me say this: with that much time in the sun, tan lines quickly become a print model’s worst nightmare! We took another cyclist’s advice and picked up Pearl Izumi sun sleeves, which are white, lightweight cover-ups that slip on and prevent Scorched Arm Syndrome.

Chelsea and a giant piece of farm machinery share Highway 2 in northern Montana.

Chelsea and a giant piece of farm machinery share Highway 2 in northern Montana. A short stint on a busy stretch – most roads we cruise only have a few cars an hour on them.

The Basics

We wake up in the tent, or on a bed or floor in someone’s house or in the occasional hotel. Traveling long-term always requires me to take stock of my surroundings and recall where I am – “oh yeah, N. Montana today, not the van in SoCal.” Then I bounce out of bed to make breakfast while Chelsea clears out the tent. In an effort to avoid turning into a pencil-armed T-Rex with no upper body strength, some sets of push-ups, burpees and core exercises kick things off. An occasional hoot of derision from a passing pickup truck is well-deserved, I should add.

Showering off in a FREEZING lake in Montana.

Showering off in a FREEZING lake in Montana.

Next, we break camp and hit the road. Wake up time depends on how late we were up with hosts the night before, and weather is a factor as well. If it’s going to be 95, we’re up earlier, with 5 the earliest so far. (Tough when it’s light until 10:30 at night this far north!) We’ve left as late as 11 on shorter days when the weather is cool. As we head east and August heat waves roll in, we’ll be up early for sure to beat headwinds and heat. No, I won’t put money on that. 🙂

Do You Sleep Under Picnic Tables in a Cardboard Box?

Nope, just out in the open clutching our bear spray with cycling shoes clipped into our pedals. Or in culverts hiding from the law, depending how the day went. Some are better than others out here in the Wild West.

Some nights, we make a lean-to teepee instead of pitching the tent.

Some nights, we make a lean-to teepee instead of pitching the tent.

Nah, we either camp, grab the occasional hotel when bleary eyes and tired legs need comfort, or stay at a gracious host’s home (Couchsurfing/Warm Showers/friend). Also worth mentioning is something we’ve discovered along the way: small city parks are open to anyone wanting to pitch a tent next to the jungle gym. Yep, even drifters like us with hunger-addled minds. It’s a reminder that people are so generous and open-hearted; city folks could learn a lot from rural America. We certainly are. Though our political beliefs may occasionally differ, we’re all human at our core and will go out of our way to help a stranger, even a sweaty one dressed in some weird Spandex outfit.

Thousands of hay bales are scattered across fields this time of year. We have yet to sleep in one of them...

Thousands of hay bales are scattered across fields this time of year. We have yet to sleep in one of them…

Our gear is a mix of comfort and lightweight. The Big Agnes Copper Spur UL3 is a great three-person tent – more space and a bit more weight is so worth it for this many days on the road! We also have inflatable sleeping pads (Q Core SL) from Big Agnes that are comfortable and thick, yet pack down to a tiny size. Warning: they sound like a snorting walrus when you roll over on them at night. Chelsea has a 15 degree bag from Nemo and I’m rocking an REI original sleeping bag from her grandma. Works great, even if the weight suggests geese are still attached to the down.

Does all this stuff really fit in six panniers? Exploding Travel Gear Inc.

Does all this stuff really fit in six panniers? Exploding Travel Gear Inc.

Couchsurfing and Warm Showers Rule

Traveling reinforces the fact that people are amazingly generous. They will invite complete strangers into their home and share their space as if we were family. A recent host wasn’t even home when we arrived – “just let yourself in” – and took off on a backpacking trip early the next morning while we stayed another day. For those of you we’ve stayed with during this trip, THANK YOU for being so awesome! We hope you can come stay with us someday.

Dakota getting comfy on the floor in a host's basement in Canada.

Dakota getting comfy on the floor in a host’s basement in Canada. Thanks Sharon!

How Do You Ride with All that WEIGHT? UGH.

We do not (absolutely not!) ride with a heavy backpack, as a few have asked. Panniers are the way to roll! Also, numerous people have asked what it feels like riding with loaded rear and front panniers and a handlebar bag. “Dude, doesn’t that feel like a bloated hippopotamus squatting on your bike?!” Honestly, I initially had my misgivings, punctuated by whining and bellyaching. However, I’ve grown to dig my setup and my bike feels great while handling totally fine even at 35 mph downhill.

Was this really only a week ago? The Rockies quickly turned into the plains, that's for sure.

Was this really only a week ago? The Rockies quickly turned into the plains, that’s for sure.

When we’re fully loaded and rolling, each of my front panniers has about six pounds in it. Left is my wardrobe in all its glory, right is the kitchen plus two packets of emergency backpacking food. Rear panniers are about 12 pounds each when they’re loaded down with tons of grub. Right rear is rain gear and sleeping kit, left is food, laptop and things we access a lot. The tent is strapped to my rear rack and we also both carry three water bottles plus a 3 liter water reservoir for long days, kept empty when we have access to towns.

Did You Bring Jeans and a Dress Shirt?

Washing laundry in the Sea to Summit expandable sink.

Washing laundry in the Sea to Summit expandable sink.

Negative, Ghost Rider. Clothing is fairly minimal. For riding, I have a few pairs of light socks, cycling shoes, two jerseys, two pairs of riding shorts, and sun sleeves/arm/leg warmers. For non-bike time, I’m carrying flip flops, two pairs of quick-dry underwear, three shirts, lightweight pants and shorts, and a down jacket for cold nights, which also doubles as Chelsea’s pillow. We certainly won’t be attending any white tie events along the way. Oh, and rain gear (jacket, pants, gloves and shoe covers), which we hadn’t used until a solid day riding in the rain and wind yesterday in Central Montana. Everything worked great!

To keep it all clean, every night we wash out that day’s riding gear in our Sea to Summit lightweight folding sink, which we then dry the next day under a cargo bungee net on our racks the next day. The Yard Sale, as we call it, though so far we haven’t sold anything. I can’t BELIEVE nobody wants my worn riding shorts.

Key components of my riding kit - sun sleeves, knee warmers, and bright jersey. Shot from the east side of Glacier inconveniently featured nine miles of road construction on gnarly roads. This was the view at least...rest break from dust and traffic cops.

Key components of my riding kit – sun sleeves, knee warmers, and bright jersey. Shot from the east side of Glacier inconveniently featured nine miles of road construction on gnarly roads. This was the view at least…rest break from dust and traffic cops.

What Are You Eating?

Food of the plant-power variety! A surprise to us, some organic produce and food is usually available in towns of 3,000+ people, which we encounter every few days. Otherwise, we’re in the “unincorporated township” realm a lot or 50-500 person towns with a bar that doubles as the post office…you can see how pickings might be slim. It’s a bit of a struggle sometimes,  yet part of the experience and one we’re handling in stride.

Plant-powered snacking. Wishing we didn't have to buy packaged stuff, but what can you do.

Plant-powered snacking. Wishing we didn’t have to buy packaged stuff, though we avoid it whenever possible.

Simple breakfasts of oatmeal or granola and then a mix of nuts and fruit (dried and fresh) for snacks throughout the day. I often have an entire bag of cherries or grapes in my handlebar bag to munch on during the day. Lunch is usually a rice, bean or lentil dish prepared the night before, leftovers from a previous meal stored in Tupperware or else we’ll stop to eat out. (Go-to vegan greasy spoon fare: home fries with “all the vegetables you’ve got!”) Same theme for dinner. Even burning 3,000 calories extra per day, I don’t wake up with my stomach trying to crawl out of my body in search of food, which goes in the “Wins” column! Some cycle tourists don’t carry a stove, or end up shipping their stove home for lack of use, but we use ours all the time and feel the extra weight is well worth it. I will say we occasionally miss the luxury of a refrigerator.

A great second breakfast in a tiny hamlet of a town near the Canadian border. The chef had lived in San Fran for 13 years and made us an awesome meal!

A great second breakfast in a tiny hamlet of a town near the Canadian border. The chef had lived in San Fran for 13 years and made us an awesome meal!

We load up on quality food when the getting is good, erring toward carrying extra weight versus eating convenience store food for a few days. It doesn’t always work out though: the night before our biggest ride yet, the grocery store was closed in a one-horse, seven-church town on a Sunday. We were forced to fuel 75 miles and eight hours pedaling with junk food (mmm, Skittles) and whatever we could forage. Can’t say I’ve ever spent $50 on food at a gas station before.

Shot of our shopping basket for a couple of days. Albertsons has some great selection, far better than what we expected!

Shot of our shopping basket yesterday for a couple of days. Albertsons has some great selection, far better than what we expected! Lots of plastic packaging, which bums us out, but what can ya do sometimes?

As for electrolytes, we carry powdered magnesium citrate plus salt and mix that with water or juice. Coconut water is great too. No bonking or cramping yet, so it’s working great, even on long, hot days. Chelsea has a timer on her GPS that beeps every 10 minutes to remind her to hydrate, which is a fantastic way to stay on top of it. I’m a noise-hating grumpy old man and so I don’t use a timer, but admit to swigging some water occasionally when I hear her beeper go off.

The lovely Waterton Lake and the Prince of Wales Hotel on its shore. We opted for a free basement at a host's instead!

The lovely Waterton Lake and the Prince of Wales Hotel on its shore. We opted for a free basement at a host’s instead!

What’s the Hardest Thing About Bike Touring?

For me, it’s taking things one day at a time and not getting wrapped up in distance-mongering or my ego when I talk to some crusher 20 year old riding solo and doing 100 miles per day. Luckily, all I do is remind myself that they are rushing to get back before school starts and that riding 10+ hours a day for months is a grind.

Physically, the pedaling has gone better than expected! Our legs are steely strong and it is amazing that our bodies heal overnight and are ready to take the punishment anew every day, even as our minds say “stay in bed, you crazy cycling monkeys!” The toughest thing and most common reason for calling it a day is, as expected, sore butts, as there has been some chafing of late. ‘Nuf said about that – nothing petroleum jelly and a new saddle (mailed ahead and installed at a host’s house) for Chelsea can’t fix. We expected to deal with hurting derrieres, so this is just part of the journey. We shall persevere!

Down in the earth with the wheat, dirt and Chelsea cruising a back highway near the headwaters of the Missouri River. Lewis and Clark passed right by this area by Ft. Benton.

Down in the earth with the wheat, dirt and Chelsea cruising a back highway near the headwaters of the Missouri River. Lewis and Clark passed right by this area by Ft. Benton.

All in all, each day is a different logistical challenge. What to eat, where to stay, where to go, which Hells Angel to talk to in Glacier. We’re having an awesome time and the fresh daily terrain keeps it interesting, but I admit it feels like we have no free time and energy levels are just high enough at the end of a day to handle the daily basics that keep us from turning into wild-eyed savages attacking hikers for granola bars and washing our faces in oily puddles. That said, finding time (and power/wifi) to write or engage in other projects is proving tough. Which is fine, even if it annoys me. Life ain’t too bad, and we are doing exactly what we set out to do, which is ride to the east coast. I didn’t except hours of down time.

And so, with a slight reroute to our plans, onward toward the Badlands of South Dakota we roam!

Dakota

Wheat frames a hazy, fiery sunset in central Montana. Smoke from the fires in Washington made air quality bad for a couple days.

Wheat frames a hazy, fiery sunset in central Montana. Smoke from the fires in Washington made air quality bad for a couple days.

Mountains, Rainbows and Rivers Make All This Pedaling Worthwhile

The last week of cycling was physically tough as we hit the mountain passes with sore butts and less-than-fresh legs. It was also tooootally worth it for the simply amazing countryside we had the pleasure of traversing thanks to Glacier and Waterton Parks in Montana and Alberta, Canada.

Here are a few choice recent shots, plus one of us to prove we’re still together and happy. 😉 The last is one of my new favorites – it captures the joy that exploring via bike is all about. Enjoy!

Dakota

Riding north on the east side of Glacier toward Canada.

Riding north on the east side of Glacier toward Canada.

Late bloom this far north up in Canada at Waterton Lake. (The mosquitoes practically carried me off as I took this picture...)

(Definitely click to view full size!) Late bloom this far north up in Canada at Waterton Lake. (The mosquitoes practically carried me off as I took this picture…)

Riding up Going-to-the-Sun Road in the early morning in Glacier.

Riding up Going-to-the-Sun Road in the early morning in Glacier.

My pot of gold at the end of a rainbow! Riding next to Weeping Wall in Glacier on Going-to-the-Sun Road.

My too-cute smiling wife at the end of a rainbow! Riding next to Weeping Wall in Glacier on Going-to-the-Sun Road.

Faces from the Road: Eli, Helen and Darcey from B.C.

Continental Divide riders - Eli, Helen and DarceyRemember the summer when you were 14? Me neither! Thinking back, about all I recall is morning baseball practice and an overall sense of trying to fit in wearing my damn sweatpants. That and turning down a fun vacation to the national parks of Utah with my family to stay home for the above-mentioned baseball. Dumb!

Well, THIS teenager, Eli, is riding the Continental Divide a couple thousand miles on a mountain bike all the way from Canada down through Colorado with his parents! That’s 30 crossings of the Divide via fire roads and single track through bear country. He’s not even a cross-country rider and didn’t train for this trip: “Yeah, I mostly ride downhill with my brother.”

Hats off to you and bon voyage team!

Dakota

P.S. I’m writing this from a wifi-enabled campground up in Canada (what is the world coming to?). Monday morning, we head south out of Canada back into the States through no-mans land toward Cut Bank, Montana.

Eye Candy: Going-to-the-Sun Road in Glacier National Park

Going-to-the-Sun Road in Glacier Looking for one of the best cycling roads in the world? Check out the famous Going-to-the-Sun Road in Glacier National Park .

Gotta say, it was one of the most scenic rides that I’ve ever done. The picture above sums it up: rivers, peaks, valleys, glaciers and a curving road hugging a cliff edge. A-maz-ing.

We rode this as part of our U.S. bike tour in 2014. It connects the west and east sides of the park via Logan Pass and a leg-pounding 11 miles of climbing up a steep grade from 3,000 to almost 7,000′ elevation.

A few more shots below! If you’d like to see a video of cycling this road, check out a ride I did in October 2015 with my dad.

Chelsea heads into a tunnel on the climb.

Chelsea heads into a tunnel on the climb.

Chelsea cuts in front of an area scorched by a 2003 fire.

Chelsea cuts in front of an area scorched by a 2003 fire.

Staring down a curvy section of Going-to-the-Sun Road.

Staring down a curvy section of Going-to-the-Sun Road.

Wait, Whose Idea Was It To Bike Tour? (Or, Musings on Ten Days Pedaling.)

A nice 20 mile back road section (Blue Slide Road) from Thompson Falls to Noxon. Avoid highway 200 and take this!

A nice 20 mile back road section (Blue Slide Road) from Thompson Falls to Noxon. Avoid highway 200 and take this!

Ten days of cycling now lay behind us, efforts etched into the muscles in our legs along with the sights and smells from the route we’ve traversed. I am stunned to discover a patient side within myself, and also an inner facet content to spin along at 12 miles per hour watching rivers flow by while stopping to chat with people at their mailboxes. Everyone, without a hitch, is so nice, and many people are inspired by our trip and tell us of their goals to backpack long distance or bike tour. Some, not so much. As one woman put it: “You do that. I’m gonna go have a beer.” Touche, madame.

Life feels simple right now. Our goal for each day is simply to ride our bikes as far as we desire, or until one of us hits the wall. (So far, we’ve dodged the latter, so we haven’t slept next to a highway in a culvert. Yet.) Perhaps the best part is that there are no expectations from anyone and no timeline. We’ll get there when we do!

Exploring a gravel road near the Idaho-Montana border.

Exploring a gravel road near the Idaho-Montana border.

Strangely, I feel even more free than I did road tripping in the van. I think it’s because our day is outlined for us by the most basic of survival instincts: find sufficient food, water and shelter to support our cross-country trek. (And the last one is easy with the tent strapped to my bike.) We hang food out of an inquisitive bear’s reach, cook dinner on a propane stove and read as the sun sets. Or we indulge our fancy-pants side and get a hotel (I’m not above that!), check in on work, go out to eat, snag some groceries and prep for our next off-grid section of the ride. I view hotels as a nice side benefit of working while traveling – no guilt. We’re mixing it up beyond that and have also couch surfed once and camped in a backyard here in Whitefish via the wonderful bicycle hospitality site Warm Showers. No no, not Golden Showers, you perv.

An absolutely picturesque scene just west of Glacier.

An absolutely picturesque scene just west of Glacier.

Our route so far has exceeded expectations and been muy fabuloso. Rolling out the driveway at Chelsea’s parents’, we started in the rolling lentil and wheat hills in Idaho and SE Washington, soon supplanted by forested slopes of mountains and rivers feeding into Coeur d’Alene Lake, a jewel in Northern Idaho. We cruised that on the Trail of the Coeur d’Alene, the amazing rails-to-trails paved path spanning the width of the panhandle up north in Idaho. (Yay for railroads and mining companies paying out of the “kindness of their heart’s” to clean up a Super Fund site!) From there, we meandered and camped by rivers on quiet back roads and then up Thompson Pass, crossing into Montana after a hard day’s ride in 95 degree heat. Another five days of riding along rivers and lakes through sparkling green valleys and between mountain ranges and we were within a few miles of the Canadian border. Then a long 64-mile day to cap our first stint down into Whitefish, gateway to Glacier National Park. The last should have been 58 but *cough* someone (me) *cough* missed a turn. 420 miles of riding for our “warm-up” and a deserved rest day! (Don’t worry, I won’t do a point-by-point like this in the future…)

A blazing sunset over Couer d'Alene Lake from our room at the Lakeview Lodge where we sat and drank local huckleberry wine.

(Click to open for full effect.) A blazing sunset over Couer d’Alene Lake from our room at the Lakeview Lodge where we sat and drank local huckleberry wine.

I’m impressed with my body’s ability to handle hauling 100+ pounds of bike, gear, food and water. I’m REALLY impressed with Chelsea kicking butt and taking names with so much riding on a loaded bike! Initially, she was wondering how far she could go each day carrying so much weight. She’s a champ and is absolutely crushing it, with days like 56 miles and 5,500’ of elevation or our 64 miles yesterday and a couple others over 50 miles already. The Plains better watch out, here we come! I’m sure the headwinds there are cowering as I write this… As for our relationship (thanks for asking), we are doing oh-so-well. Surprisingly, perhaps, since I am an impatient jerk at times. Somehow, I’ve found my Zen space with touring and so we are having a marvelous time.

Silent back roads of eastern Washington.

Silent back roads of eastern Washington.

Our biggest concern, other than whether our legs would fall off from overuse, was where (or if) we’d find healthy plant-based food. We’ve dodged that bullet by foraging for edible berries and scraping the soft layer of bark from tree branches and hey, we’re both feeling great other than this weird tummy bug. Juuust kidding. Actually, even in tiny towns with just a tavern and a handful of residents, this has luckily not been an issue. For those of you out there who are vegetarian or vegan and planning to do a long tour, perhaps this is something you’re wondering about? Do not fear, it’s doable! I’ll continue to update and probably write an entire post on surviving small-town America without a co-op, Café Gratitude or Whole Foods from which to forage.

This is feeling far more like a sabbatical than the prior eight months. Work, while still something I briefly check in on almost daily, seems distant. I feel mellow and obligations aren’t pulling at me, a very nice change of pace. Perhaps five hours of pedaling a bicycle requires so much energy that I simply focus on the necessary aspects of life? No boredom yet either – between podcasts, audiobooks and reading on my phone’s Kindle app, I’m consuming content voraciously, and have already read close to 1,800 pages so far, including the huge biography about John D. Rockefeller. Best time to read? At the top of long, steep climbs if I happen to arrive before Chelsea.

Soft light on a curve in the rolling hills of the Palouse.

Soft light on a curve in the rolling hills of the Palouse.

Narg, the angry monster of my hungry alter-ego, is defanged by constantly eating. Nuts, fruit, granola bars and fig newtons all disappear down my gullet. My good friend Evan said one time, “I just realized something: you never stop eating!” That is even more true now that we’re riding our bikes with a heavy load with heart rates in the fat burning zone. I’m eating a lot, but so far it isn’t ridiculous. Unless you count eating an entire 12” pizza by myself ridiculous, of course. Hoping to graduate to a 15” pizza soon!

The Wild Coyote Saloon in Montana. Solid food and nice cold refills for our water bottles. (C photo)

The Wild Coyote Saloon in Montana. Solid food and nice cold refills for our water bottles. (C photo)

I know you’re itching for a story of misery, about how this is SO hard and trying. Other than a gunshot-loud tire blowout two miles from the start and a missing screw on Chelsea’s pedal cleat, I’m happy to report that the weather has been perfect, if hot, and life is good. Don’t worry, we have miles and miles to go, so I’m sure stories will surface. My karma isn’t that good. At the moment, however, I’m sitting on our hosts’ back porch (thanks Rita and Chuck!) with a view of the glowing mountains at 10 pm while drinking ice tea. We are primed and ready for our assault on the Crush-the-Quads sojourn up the steep and long Going-to-the-Sun Road through Glacier. As Jack Kerouac poetically put it, “There was nowhere to go but everywhere, so just keep on rolling under the stars.”

Pedal on,

Dakota

P.S. More photos below! Check ’em out.

Testing out gear just prior to our departure.

Testing out gear just prior to our departure.

 

Our route for Days 1-10, just in case you're curious.

Our route for Days 1-10, just in case you’re curious.

Testing out video – this is from Lake Koocanusa headed north in Montana toward Canada. You may need to click through to YouTube to watch it.

Scenes like this are just everywhere in the NW. Such a great place to ride! This is a couple hours worth of riding west of Glacier.

Scenes like this are just everywhere in the NW. Such a great place to ride! This is a couple hours worth of riding west of Glacier.

As if biking isn't hard enough... (C photo)

As if biking isn’t hard enough…a super fun climb into the bathroom on the Trail of the CDA. Totally staged, for the record. (C photo)

Cooled off after a long day in the chilly Clark Fork River and then enjoyed a great night's rest.

Cooled off after a long day in the chilly Clark Fork River and then enjoyed a great night’s rest.

Lunch break at the top of steep (11% grade) Thompson Pass heading into Montana. See the road down to the right?

Lunch break at the top of steep (11% grade) Thompson Pass heading into Montana. See the road down to the right?

Flowers are still firing up in the high mountains!

Flowers are still firing up in the high mountains!

Years ago, some miner was bored in the winter up in Murray, ID and decided to dig a hole in the floor of his bedroom to mine for gold. He actually found some! Now, they just have delicious pizza.

Years ago, some miner was bored in the winter up in Murray, ID and decided to dig a hole in the floor of his bedroom to mine for gold. He actually found some! (Or some variation of that.) Now, they just have delicious food.

Crossing a half-mile trestle on the Trail of the Couer d'Alene. Camera malfunction killed the next day's shots, including the best ones with big moose and baby on the trail. :(

Crossing a half-mile trestle on the Trail of the Couer d’Alene. Camera malfunction killed the next day’s shots, including the best ones with big moose and baby on the trail. 🙁

Old-school sign at a lentil sorting facility.

Old-school sign at a lentil sorting facility.

The undesired but gonna-happen side of bike touring. Two miles in, my front tube exploded like a shotgun blast! (C photo)

The undesired but gonna-happen side of bike touring. Two miles in, my front tube exploded like a shotgun blast! (C photo)

Riding between tall silos on the border of Idaho and Montana. (C photo)

Riding between tall silos on the border of Idaho and Montana. (C photo)

Lovely contrast on a field in Washington.

Lovely contrast on a field in Washington.

Chelsea cruising down a highway in eastern Washington.

Chelsea cruising down a highway in eastern Washington.

 

 

Faces from the Road: Ray from Quebec

Ray from QuebecSome people just embody an activity. Ray, who we met on a remote highway in NW Montana, sums up the essence of bike touring.

We crossed paths with him on the 4th of July as he biked west. Sporting a cotton shirt with “America: the best things in life are free” emblazoned across the chest with an eagle patterned in stars and stripes, Ray was astride an old, well-worn bike with thousands upon thousands of miles on it. He had been all over the place on tour – Mexico, Canada, the US, and elsewhere.

Ray doesn’t travel with a computer, GPS or a specific route in mind. He camps along the way and is simply out exploring the world while enjoying the heck out of it. When we asked if he was all good on water, he gestured behind us and said, “There is lots of water in the mountains.” Hell. Yes. A true adventurer!

I love the common ground that bike touring brings to life. Chelsea and I with our shiny bikes and glossy panniers, helmet lights blinking and reflective jerseys on, were doing the same thing as Ray with his rig: pedaling across the country trying to find food, water and shelter while taking in whatever scenery, people and adventures present themselves. Every day is a fresh landscape and challenge to surmount, and we can point our tires wherever we please. And that seems like true freedom to me!

Happy (belated) Independence Day,

Dakota

The Yellowstone Peace Protocol

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Two mother bison and their calves. Notice how close they are to keep their offspring safe from wolves. (They are shedding winter coats, not dying of some horrible disease.)

I have a theory. Call it the Yellowstone Peace Protocol, or YPP for short.

It’s simple: take people from all over the world who can’t agree on anything or are fighting over an age-old conflict. Place them together in a beautiful landscape populated with majestic animals in a sort of wildlife pilgrimage. Humans of all colors, shapes, nationalities and languages, all inspired by nature. Now make sure the ratio of people to binoculars and spotting scopes is skewed. Say, 20 people for every five pairs of binoculars and two spotting scopes.

Now stand back. I don’t care if there is a staunch Republican next to a Democrat, or a Palestinian next to a Jew, or a Michigan State fan next to an Ohio State alumnus (am I pushing it with that one?). They’re going to start talking about wolves, bison and bears, not some other age-old conflict. Next thing you know, they’re sharing the spotting scopes and binoculars and sharing cold brews from a cooler. Agendas and nationalities melt away in the face of the YPP and all you’re left with is the fact that all of us are human.

A rather large elk that meandered through our campsite in Grand Teton about five feet from the van. We watched him for quite awhile.

A rather large elk that meandered through our campsite in Grand Teton about five feet from the van. We watched him for quite awhile.

French, Czech, Dutch, British, Texan, New Joy-sey, or Aussie. Talking to a fellow animal watcher in a National Park for the first time, you never know what their accent will be, so it would be a level playing ground to get started. With a thread weaving us all together, our eyes and intention are trained on the mama grizzly bear and her cubs bouncing in the tall grass, not the differences that “separate” us.

A dusk shot (not so good, sorry) of a mama grizzly and her tiny little cub. I didn't want to get any closer than this for the shot!

A dusk shot (not so good, sorry) of a mama grizzly and her tiny little cub. I didn’t want to get any closer than this for the shot!

I think this would trump the effectiveness of any UN meeting or mediation. Find a calming common ground and resolution lies just beyond that boundary. A clean, easy solution! Leaders of the World, feel free to borrow this anytime you’d like.

Sincerely,

Dakota

P.S. Yellowstone and Grand Teton are just amazing. We can’t wait to get back there. Here are a fair number of other pictures that I haven’t had a chance to share. Plus a few fun ones from Colorado and Montana to get these shots out once and for all!

The aptly named Grand Canyon of Yellowstone. Amazing just like its counterpart to the south.

The aptly named Grand Canyon of Yellowstone. Amazing just like its counterpart to the south.

Algae brighten up a geyser pool in Yellowstone.

Multi-colored bacteria brighten up a geyser pool in Yellowstone.

The majestic, old-timber lodge near Old Faithful. A great dinner in a cool rustic space that reminded me of Timberline near Mt. Hood.

The majestic, old-timber lodge near Old Faithful. A great dinner in a cool rustic space that reminded me of Timberline near Mt. Hood.

Tent caterpillars building their homes in Yellowstone.

Tent caterpillars lounging in Yellowstone.

Bubbling pools of hot water and the colorful algae that live on them.

Bubbling pools of hot water and the colorful bacteria that live on them.

I know, I know, you've seen it...but it's just so pretty with flowers and mountains! (Grand Teton)

I know, I know, you’ve seen it…but it’s just so pretty with flowers and mountains! (Grand Teton)

Oh give me a hommmme, where the buffalo roooam... (Grand Teton rocks.)

Oh give me a hommmme, where the buffalo roooam… (Grand Teton rocks.)

A big ol' bison munching away in the fields.

A big ol’ bison munching away in the fields.

Cows under an incoming storm in the middle of nowhere Wyoming.

Cows under an incoming storm in the middle of nowhere Wyoming.

A lizard keeps an eye on the scene in Fruita, Colorado.

A lizard keeps an eye on the scene in Fruita, Colorado.

Assisting with a friend's move near Boulder, CO by holding down roof freight while also wielding his favorite trident (we don't have one of those in the van). Got a few odd looks on the drive over. :)

Assisting with a friend’s move near Boulder, CO by holding down roof freight while also wielding his favorite trident (we don’t have one of those in the van). Got a few odd looks on the drive over. 🙂

Lewis and Clark Caverns near the North Entrance to Yellowstone.

Lewis and Clark Caverns near the North Entrance to Yellowstone.

Lewis and Clark Caverns near the North Entrance to Yellowstone.

The tunnel out of Lewis and Clark Caverns. You start way up at the top and descend wayyyyy down before exiting through this tunnel.