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7/29

Awake late. Mentally the trip is over. Now, our minds are allowing our bodies to be tired and say ENOUGH! Given permission, our feeble bodies jumped on the opportunity. We’re now paying for our debt in exhaustion. The motivation to ride 60 miles from Eureka back to Whitefish was not forthcoming. We asked a few people if they knew anyone heading that way, but eventually we sucked it up and headed back out on the road. It was a ride that I thought was going to miserable, but it actually started off quite nice. We were on the side road (on the GDMBR), floating free of traffic and enjoying a nice day. I was still riding my bike with my favorite person on the planet. Things couldn’t have been better really.

We turned back on to highway 93 where we had a decent shoulder to ride on. The traffic was pretty thick, but manageable because of the space we had. We passed the turn off for the Whitefish Divide climb–the GDMBR and went into new territory.

At one point we passed a huge lumber mill. There were so many logs and processed boards stacked up that it almost did not look real. It looked like something out of a movie–computer generated. Big cranes moved around and grabbed logs to move them along. The stacks of logs went on as far as I could see. Pretty incredible.

Unfortunately the fun came to a halt around 20 miles from Eureka. Our shoulder completely dissappeared. We’re talking 2 inches between the white line and the guard rail. This is not good. We rode together, trying to maintain our wits, but the lumber trucks and semis were too much for us. We rode 6 miles and witness a near accident (Log truck passing us in the other lane nearly hit a motorcycle going the other way, had it been a car it would have been ugly) and were nearly a part of 2 accidents ourselves. If anyone going the other way the logging trucks have no choice but to clip and blast us. It was not safe. I began to worry, honestly, that we were not going to make it off this road alive. It was not a matter of being able to pedal the miles–we easily could have.

We were only halfway and fearing our safety, so we did what all good cyclotourists do when they are stuck: we stuck out our thumbs. Being first time users of the windswept thumb, we were not sure what to expect. Of course what we got was nothing.

Feeling pathetic we decided to hop on and hope for the best. We put on our helmets and told ourselves we’d try one more group of potential rides. Our thumbs were high but it was no use. We started riding. Ugh.

Wait, there was a truck pulling off ahead. Could it be?

30 minutes later we were sitting in Al’s truck, just outside of Whitefish, enjoying the snarl of traffic backed up by construction. Fresh slurry was everywhere and the exhaust was enough to poison a whale. I was so thankful to be riding in his truck instead of fighting for my life and health on 93. He said he and his wife often pickup hitch-hikers in Glacier, but that he had just seen a movie about a hitch-hiker killing his ride the other day. Based on that we decided not to kill him, though it was mighty tempting. He works in construction (though more real estate these days) and was headed to his hangar/plane in Kalispell. He dropped us right off at our motel. We were estatic and very grateful. I almost felt that he had saved our lives.

27 miles, 1500 feet of climbing

7/30, 7/31

Travel to Eugene, Oregon by Amtrak. A long ride, but a new experience for us. You get plenty of room and can walk around, eat, and look out the train. It’s more quiet than a plane, but more bumpy of a ride. Sleep did not come easily despite my very drained state. I’d call it a couple of cat naps, not sleep.

8/1

I made and attempt at riding a bike today, but it failed about as miserably as it possibly could. First, Amtrak “forgot” to put my bike on the train, so I had to borrow a bike (thanks to Richard Sweet who loaned me one of his) in order to ride. Alan’s friends were doing a ride on the Alpine trail and although it was a shuttle ride (ugh) I was going to come along anyway. After many delays and many miles driving (double ugh) we finally started riding. R. Sweet’s bike is setup motorcycle style (front and rear brakes reversed), which although I knew about, could not retrain my brain in time. The first little downhill stretch saw me grabbing a world full of brake, jerking me off the seat and stretching my hamstring out of whack. It didn’t help that they were super powerful disc brakes either. Immediately I had excruciating pain in my hamstring, but I continued rolling downhill hoping that it would go away. The first few short climbs led to further mishap. I cannot explain it, but my legs completely refused to ride. I don’t know if it was cramping, soreness, tendonitis, a blood clot–who knows. But the pain in (eventually) both of my quads and calves was beyond intolerable. I could not ride. Stopping only helped a bit. So I limped, barely able to walk, back to the cars. The pain did not subside after quite some time. I tanked gatorade after gatorade and ate cliff bars. Finally I just took a nap because sitting was too painful. I was out for an hour and half, waking up to slightly less pain and the newfound ability to move around. The rest of the crew eventually drove back up to retreive the shuttle vehicles and we headed back to Eugene.

8/2

Walking, pinball, more walking and another attempt at a ride today. Today’s attempt was much more successful than yesterday’s, but my legs are still telling me not to ride. But the temperature is so cool, the trees so tall and dense, and my time here in Eugene limited. So Alan and I rolled out for his short ride: the Ridgeline trail. I got a good warmup through city streets, and thoroughly enjoyed being back on my bike again. It felt so familiar, like I belonged on it, belonged riding. Eugene is an awesome city for riding and Al’s route to Ridgeline was very unique. To access Ridgeline Al takes a very steep trail from Amazon Creek. I kept things as slow as I could and likely should have defaulted to walking, but the challenge got the best of me. Riding slow was not an option. I ended up cleaning the steep climb, after which my legs through a small fit. Fortunately Ridgeline was fairly mellow for a bit, so I spun it out and avoided a complete meltdown.

The GDMBR has definitely deprived me of real mountain biking. This was a great return. Switchbacks, a few rocks, roots, and a feather light bike to ride (seemingly so at least). And all through an amazing canopy of trees. I am so jealous of Al’s standard, after work ride. We need something like this in Tucson. Or at least I do.

I actually felt better after riding than I did before. Sleepy, hungry, but the pain in my legs was getting better. I ate anything I laid eyes on, then slept like a rock.

8/3

Lethargic morning, but eventually I mustered enough energy to get out for another ride. Al picked a real hoot of a ride for today: Hardesty Mountain / Eula Ridge. This is exactly my kind of ride. From the beginning we were climbing in granny gear. Not just granny gear, but nose of your seat, hold on for dear life style of granny gear. Energy stores were not exactly at maximum capacity for me, but as we climbed I felt better and better. From 900 feet we climbed away through dense trees that rarely let a ray of sunshine through. About halfway up I thought it was raining, hearing drops falling from the trees above. Soon we were riding through the clouds parked on the ridgeline. The moisture from the clouds had collected on the trees giving the appearence of rain. The climbing continued.

Switchbacks, some very difficult and requiring more than a few bunny hop turns to navigate. Despite rarely a technical mile during the past 2 months, I did surprisingly well. Al climbed much stronger in front of me. I could not have stayed with him if my life depended on it. I was trying to exert minimal energy, but once again the challenge got the best of me and I rode far beyond what I should have. In 5 miles we climbed 3200 feet, with all of it just within the tolerances of rideability. Now that’s what I call a climb.

At the top it was cool and moist. We rolled down the Eula ridge trail. There were many a steep section. My skills were not quite up to the task, so I walked some sections, then Leif’ed Al into walking a few himself. My excuse, of course, was my near bald (and semi-slick to begin with) tires that were picked for the GDMBR, not real mountain biking. Still, it was an awesome downhill run that seemed longer than what we had climbed up. The walking I did downhill sent my legs into hoytsville (I now suspect it is cramping), so I rode a bit more downhill than I probably would have.

Back on the highway we took a dirt road that parallels a railroad track, then hopped back over it just before a train came and stopped on it.

Later in the day we went to the coast to play in the water and watch the various creatures than live there. For one who rarely sees the Ocean it’s always a nice experience–for a day.

13 miles, 3300 feet of climbing

8/4

Travel to Tucson (by plane). Back to the heat. Back to real life.