Ugh

I’d like to report that my travel to Whitefish, Montana was uneventful, but I’d be lying if I did. The flight itself was fine and my bike made it more or less in tact. But as I was flying over the Great Divide Route I pulled out my maps to see where we were. I had the bright idea to ride from the Kalispel Airport to Whitefish, rather than taking a shuttle/taxi. It was a beautiful afternoon and I’m a huge fan of bike commuting, so it seemed like a good idea.

I put my bike together, checked everything, then rolled out, happy with person, place and time. I turned onto the busy main highway and 500 feet later felt my front end wobbling around. It was flat quick.

I inspected the tire and found a small tear in the sidewall. Ugh. I had to deflate the tire to get the box to close and it looks like it somehow ripped the tire during transport.

I pulled over to the railroad tracks and began patching. I’m already patching tubes and I’m not even on mile #1 of the 2,500 mile trip.

Anyway, the rest of the ride into Whitefish went well. I found a way to ride quiet dirt roads for 80% of the way. It was just like being out on the divide. I saw an eagle, a deer and got semi-chased by two dogs. I was very happy until about 2 miles to Whitefish where I started getting tired and unusally thirsty. I hit DQ for refreshment as soon as I rolled into town, but I just am not feeling right. Recovery, it seems, is still underway for me.

Tomorrow the schedule consists of food, rest, tunes and more food. Then it’s go time on Friday.

12 miles, 200 feet of climbing.