Tour Divide - Day 19

I was up just on daybreak, packing up as quickly and quietly as I could. That stupid Rottweiler had barked every time I moved during the night. This was due to my Thermarest mat that sounded like a scrunched crisps bag each time I moved and being a considerate person I was trying not to incite it again. In hindsight maybe I should have stomped around on the concrete in my cleats and woken them all up.

But I didn't.
I rolled out of the camp ground silently and turned left, onto the road to Mexico. I would have quite a bit of sealed road riding this morning before hitting the dirt to Pie Town. First up though was passing through El Malpais National Monument with it's huge escarpments towering over the road on the eastern side and an ancient lava flow on the western side.

On the left.......

On the right, lava flow!

It was nice and cool again this morning and I munched some Sweet and Salty bars as well as a bag of nuts but my main aim for breakfast was Pie Town, some 80km (50mi) away. I had plenty of water as I was carrying a full load out of Grants last night and I wasn't aware of any before Pie Town.

The road was deserted and I pedalled along in silence marvelling at the two opposing landforms, both so completely different from one another.

Cresting a small rise I could see off into the distance and there was not much inspiration in the view. Miles and miles of nothing that I would have to cover in the next few hours. Miles and miles before pie!

I hit the Pie Town turn off in the still of early morning and it actually looked very pretty, in a isolated, outback kind of way. A lonely road sign, a cattle grid and a dirt road disappearing into the distance. 

Very Australian bush-like.

The road was quite washboarded and I guess putting a positive spin on it, constantly choosing a new line gave me something to occupy my mind.

But soon the road started climbing low hills and a slight headwind kicked in. This now occupied my mind as I crawled up the climbs. I just had no energy.

Cresting a climb I noticed two riders coming toward me. We stopped and chatted for 5 minutes. The
young couple were from the Czech Republic and had ridden from South America. The guy was very
interested in my frame and rear hub setup, noting that you can run a miriad of options on the BNT.
Mr Muru, if a BNT frame goes to the Czech Republic any time soon I will only take a small commission!

We wished each other the best of luck then parted ways. The hills became steeper and higher the closer I got to Pie Town and I was reduced to walking some most again.

Pie Town eventually materialised and I came to a crossroads. The route went straight and there were building on route and one to the left, up the hill. I wasn't sure where the pie shop was but hoped it was on route. One hundred metres along route and it was obvious that there were no shops this way so I backtracked and turned onto the sealed road, climbing the hill. A quarter mile on the right I came to the Pie Town Cafe'.

I was so shagged and pissed off at this mornings effort. As I rode into the cafe I saw a guy sitting outside taking pictures of me. I grumbled to myself about Blue Dot stalkers as I was in no mood to talk by now. I went to the other side of the entrance hallway, sat down and muttered
a"fuck this stupid fucking race" half under my breath, throwing my gloves down as I flopped down on the bench.

This is about when I noticed that the cafe' window was open and a couple were sitting at the table inside. Shit! Then, to confirm what a tool I was this morning, the guy taking photos came around the corner and said "Hi Dave". How did he know who I was? I must have had a confused look on my face as he said "its me, Josh Kato".

Josh! I didn't recognise him, standing there with no helmet on his head. And what was he doing standing there looking so fresh and clean?! Hadn't he just won the Tour Divide a few days ago? My mood instantly lifted as I congratulated him, then bombarded him with questions about his race. I was in awe of his achievement and confounded at how fresh he looked compared to my utter decrepitude.

After 5 minutes I excused myself as I had a date with some pie! I walked into the cafe' to be met with another "Hi Dave"! Bloody hell, everyone knew who I was. There is no hiding on the divide.

I was a bit flustered at my very minor celebrity status but managed to order bacon and eggs, eventually. I downed this so quickly that I think I caught them by surprise. Asking what sort of pie they had, the woman began to list the menu (what I can only imagine is an extensive list) but I stopped her a the first one, Apple, saying I would have that! I downed this in the time it took the young girl serving me to walk back behind the counter. Next! And next was a triple berry pie, all loaded up with ice cream again which I dispatched in quick time.

The pie was great and making it even better was the fact that the Salsa guys had given all of us a special stem top cap back in Banff. "Present this in Pie Town for two free slices of pie" they had told us. True to their word, upon showing my orange top cap I was asked to fill in my name and pie consumption habits on a form that would be sent to Salsa Bikes. Thank you Salsa and The Pie Town Cafe for this very generous gift. This half starved racer appreciated it very much!

Awesome Eddie Clark Media photo

Feeling human again I ordered a sandwich to go, apologised to the couple sitting near the open window for my exasperation earlier and wandered outside into the now warm day.

Josh was still there and suggested the store up the road for a food restock if I needed it. I did need it
but thought I would push my boundaries a bit and not carry too much weight. I wish I had someone there to give me an upper cut and remind me that it would be two full days before the next resupply.

Josh said he was going back to the Toaster House. I chatted to the English couple from near the open window. I eventually rolled out to check out the Toaster House. The house is iconic and I wandered in to find Josh sitting on the deck. He pointed me to the fridge and a huge box of energy bars that he had bought with him from a bike shop that he visited after the race.

I chatted to Josh for a while and he explained that he had finished the race so far ahead of time that his wife was not due to pick him up for a week so he had hired a car and driven back to Pie Town to hang out and cheer on other riders. I thought that was pretty cool. Josh is a first rate guy and I was very happy to sit, chatting with him but the race was calling me after just 10 minutes.

Slinging my heavy backpack on again and I must admit I was dreading the next section of trail. There was nothing between me and the Beaverhead Workstation as far as resupply goes and I had already heard that the soda machine at Beaverhead was busted. Soda was THE only luxury between here and Silver City, 296km away.........

What could I do? There were two racers approaching Pie Town and I had run out of excuses to linger. I rode out into the white hot vastness of New Mexico. 

The road was being repaired for quite a ways and as a result was loose and very dusty. my chain complained at the second rate lube I was forced to use and so out of a sense of sanity I stopped to lubricate it and rest my legs in the shade of a scrawny little tree.

I was cursing the soft road but as I would note about 2 weeks later, Billy and Lina Rice were much less fortunate as heavy rains turned it to peanut butter and they were forced to return to Pie Town. Soul crushing!

I pedalled on and on, passing the roadworks crew, passing some old ruins and seemingly, not getting anywhere.

I tried to set goals that I could strive to acheive. The deserted Mangas Work Centre was my next goal. When I reached the area it was marked with a sign and little else. I moved off the road and sat beneath a Ponderosa Pine, digging out the sandwich I had taken away from the Pie Town Cafe. I unwrapped it, salivating at the thought of eating it,,,,,and it was toasted.......even though I said "don't toast it please"............ Should I eat a cold meat sandwich that has been heated then cooled, then stored in a 100F frame bag? Screw it, I was starving and the sandwich lost the battle.

CDT Trailhead

I was feeling very tired now. As tired as I had felt the day I left Wamsutter in the southern Basin. At least I was in a forest and sitting on pine needles under a shady tree today. So I set my alarm for 30 minutes and closed my eyes. I was finding it very hard to go on.

My alarm pinged away in what seemd like no time at all. I hauled myself up and climbed on the bike, wondering if the two riders that were approaching Pie Town when I left had passed me while I snoozed behind my tree.

I grovelled over Divide Crossing #24 and got to enjoy some downhill for a while. I stayed off the brakes even though they may have been warranted at times. I simply did not want to convert my efforts into brake dust any more.

I finally came to the 12, where the route went right, along the sealed road then left, onto the dirt and into the Gila (pronounced Hila). Four little letters that I would come to loath the sound of. 

During my time riding with Andres back on Day 2 and 3 we had discussed the mythical church where Matt Lee is seen sitting on the porch of a church in the "Ride The Divide" movie, chatting about life. This church has the only water between Pie Town and the Beaverhead Workcentre. I didn't trust it to be true so had carried 6 litres from Pie Town but now I saw the church and after a short search around, found the tap that dispensed clear, clean water!

I filled up then hosed myself down to cool off. I sat on the porch (there was no rocking chair) and snacked away in the shade, feeling well pleased with myself. I then saw a horrible sight. Two riders were at the left turn, just across the ways! I waved, hoping to attract them over to the water but they just continued on along the route! I quickly loaded my bags up and let myself out of the church grounds to chase the pair who had now disappeared over the next hill which was a few miles away. It always amazed me how quickly riders got away from me even when they were grovelling along themselves.

I caught up to these two riders soon enough though and it turned out to be Dave McInerney and Alice Drobna. I hadn't met Dave before but he turned out to be another Aussie and better still, another country boy from New South Wales but living in Canada now! It was nice to see Alice as well. The last time I had seen her was at Flagg Ranch, waaay back on Day 9.

Even though I had been caught I was really happy for the company. I found, as always when riding with others that I lifted and it felt effortless to pedal along and chat away. I was even riding in the marbles in the middle of the road, so as not to draft either of them and still be able to chat easily.

We met some NoBo riders who were in awe of Alice and her single speed effort so far. I was as well to be honest. If she was hurting in any way she wasn't showing it. I was feeling pretty weak and over the next 20km or so Dave told his race story so far. It consisted of mechanical failures and physical failures. His knees had pretty much rebelled mid race and Vitamin I was his good friend now. This made me consider how I had overcome my Achilles problem early on and really, had nothing much to complain about other than a bruised bum and slightly sore hands.

After a while I noticed that we were sort of riding on top of each other, which was probably my fault for trying to stay close, without drafting, to chat.

I was sort of in a position to coast away when we crested a rise and I did so to make some room. I pedalled smoothly and easily for a while and when I looked back Dave and Alice were nowhere to be seen!

I quickly checked my GPS to make sure that I hadn't taken a wrong turn but all was ok. I was on route. I figured I had either annoyed them with my puppy-dog-like excitement after being alone for so long or they had just stopped to eat/adjust or stretch as you do on The Divide. Either way, they looked strong and I knew they would catch me sooner or later.

The sun was slowly sinking toward the horizon when I came to this sign.

30 miles?!
30 miles isn't like 30km. I was finally getting my head around these statute distances and reading them for what they really were. Earlier in the race it was easy to see a distance, convert it to metric but on some deeper level, not really understand the measure. Some deeply inbuilt mechanism kept taking it back to kilometres and I was constantly dismayed at how long it took to do 20 or 30 or 40 US distance units.

I still had plenty of water and with just 48 kilometres to go I stopped to empty the two Platypus bladders that I was carrying in my backpack. It felt great to get the backpack off again and I was glad I had chosen not to rely on a backpack for the entire ride.

But now, in the late afternoon I understood that this was another 48 kilometres. I took the left turn and enjoyed having the sun at my back as shadows lengthened and the road undulated up and down. After a while I came to a lodge that was dispersed on either side of the road. I looked for any obvious signs of life or more importantly, a reception area but it looked deserted. To add insult to disappointment a sign proudly proclaimed that I was still at elevation.

The trees began to thin out until I found myself crossing wide, rolling, treeless plains. At least they were fairly level! I passed a group of three NoBo tourers setting up camp in a small basin on the north side of the road. They had a fire going and I almost jammed the brakes on to join them. Almost. I knew if I did I would sit up until late, chatting all things Divide when I needed sleep. No, I kept powering onward, toward the Beaverhead Workstation.

Night fell and the almost full moon was shining down on me. I began climbing and winding my way along the side of a lake or swamp. It was hard to tell despite the moonlight. There must have been some water around as I saw all sorts of animals in the glow of my headlight. Skunks shuffled off the trail and in my biggest encounter, four huge elk/deer with massive antlers galloped onto the road just as my circle of light got to them. Being only about 30 metres away it gave me a huge fright and got the blood pumping, as if the last 220km hadn't done that already today!

The Beaverhead finally rolled into sight and I climbed the short distance up to the ranger station. The soda machine was indeed dead, but just next to it was a water pump. Glorious water!

I set up my tent on the edge of the helipad, fairly certain there would not be any arrivals between 9:30pm and my intended departure time of 5:30am. I had completed my set up and was just washing the dirt off my face and legs when Alice and Dave rolled in. They were in great spirits as they enjoyed riding in the cool night air. We were soon all sitting on the front step of the ranger station, in the dark, eating what food we had. My tin of pineapple pieces finally met it's end and it tasted bloody good but I think the Subway that Alice and Dave had carried the 280km from Grants this morning would have been much better for the legs. In hindsight, I really should have stayed in a hotel in Grants, rested well then got on the road at 1 or 2am as these guys had done. They had a better strategy than myself today but I couldn't stop myself from feeling the need to push on last night.

Still, I had covered almost 250km (155mi) for the day and I ONLY had about 135km (83mi) to Silver City tomorrow, where I would restock and rest before the final push to the border. 

I would be there before lunch. The Gila would be easy........

Cheers.

Tour Divide 2015 - Day 9

I had my alarm set for bloody early and got up right away. If I was going to stop early I had to hit the road early. My head felt a bit foggy, must have been the Fat Tyre or was it the sea food as I felt a bit "bleh" in general. No matter, it was another morning. Time to ride.

I rolled out of the golf course just on first light and turned right, onto the route. Only the route wasn't there on my gps. No magenta line. I thought that I had a gps glitch so I reloaded the track. Still no magenta line. I zoomed out and sure enough, there it was back behind me. This is when it hit me that I was off route! Of course, Squirrel Creek was on route. What the hell had I been thinking? I turned around and rode the 0.4 mile back to that corner and onto the route.

The morning was still and quiet. Just me and the Tetons.....

It was soo worth being off route yesterday and getting to ride here this morning and not yesterday with that 30mph wind. I soon rolled past Squirrel Creek Lodge which was right beside the route....grrrr. Idiot!

I had seen the Targhee National Forest signs last time we were here, a few years back. Who would have thought I would be back, on a mountain bike in the Tour Divide?

Of course the road promptly turned to snot. It went up and it was covered with a thick coat of energy sucking gravel. I could not have dealt with this yesterday. Today, refreshed, I simply got on with it.

As I started to climb into the forest a few cars went past. The talcum powder fine dust was choking and it took a while to disperse with zero wind so I took a moment in the sun.

Lots of pinchy, rutted climbs followed and I could see multiple tyre tracks in front of me. It was a kind of game to try to figure out whose they were and how old they were. I could tell some were from yesterday, but one set looked very fresh. I soon came up behind Mitchell P on a climb. I thought I was going slow so it was great (for me) to catch someone and drop them quickly. It must have been crushing though for poor Mitchell. I had been there!

This sign meant we were getting somewhere. That somewhere was Flagg Ranch Resort in Yellowstone National Park. It was still a few climbs away but I began to pass campers and a few cyclists so I figured I was getting close.

I rolled into the parking lot of Flagg Ranch, dodging RVs and cars. It was a rude shock to be thrust into civilisation again, me being used to quiet roads and lost in my thoughts. I dumped my bike against a picnic table with some others, grabbed my cash and marched inside to the dining room. There I saw Doug sitting at a table with a female racer. Asking if they minded me joining them I got to meet Alice D. They were just finishing up as I was starting or so they said. Maybe it just wasn't a pretty sight watching me meet breakfast.....

Filled to the brim I waddled outside where Alice was finishing drying her tent and Doug was chatting to some tourers. I chatted to Alice for a while. She was the womens Single Speed record holder from last year but this year she had issues like a busted bottom bracket on day 1 and a broken seat rail. Her new seat had arrived at Flagg Ranch and she had just fitted it. The broken seat was sitting on the park bench. She asked me to take a photo......of her seat.......so I unwittingly did......

Errr...not that seat.......this one..........

It was hard core of her to have ridden all this way with a broken seat rail but then again, it was hard core to have single speeded all this way. Quicker than I had on a geared bike. Respect!

I wandered back into the c-store and stocked up with some snacks as I wasn't sure how far I would go today. My notes had me aiming for Lava Mountain Lodge but I had higher ambitions today. My bags bulging and Camelbak full, I bid Doug and Alice good morning and headed off toward the Tetons.

This was a major road in a major national park. in fact, the first national park in the world. At least there was a good shoulder on the road but working against me was the attention seeking scenery that had drivers (and me) not really paying attention to where they are going so I was slightly afraid of being mangled by a huge RV. Of course, there isn't a single vehicle in this photo!

I climbed for a while right out of Flagg Ranch with my full belly and all. Not fun. but then I enjoyed some major downhill action on silky smooth road. All the while getting closer to the Grand Tetons.

I came to the Teton National Park entrance sign and watched bemused as a dad tried to get his wife, two kids and two dogs to pose just so before he raced in for the self timer family shot. Of couse, a dog blinked or a kid barked so it took a while. For my patience he kindly offered to take a photo of me, one of the few non-selfies I have.

From here the road continued down and I saw a sustained 60km/h (35mph). There was much rejoicing....

And just when you think you can't get any closer to the Tetons....you do! I wanted to go into touring mode right here. Stupid race.

I had to be careful as cars were pulling over, buses were pulling over, RVs were pulling over and then they were all pulling back out. Doorings, sideswipes and full on rundowns were highly likely. More so than a bear attack I reckon.

Heading east through Moran Junction, where the Jackson Hole road met Rockerfeller Parkway, the Tetons were still right there. At 7000ft above the lake they really had a presence.

Turning off the main road toward Turpin Meadow the climb began again but at least the road was quiet. 

I stopped at the Buffalo Valley road cafe for a sandwich and a milkshake. There were views out across the valley and I could see the RV park our family stayed in during our visit in 2012.

From here I had to pass Turpin Meadow ranch and the campground. The campground had been closed because it was too high of a bear-encounter risk. This was serious grizzly country.

Turpin Meadow came and went, then the climbing started again. It was a still day and very hot in the sun. This made the air thin and me...slow. It gave me time to work on my whistling though as it looked like a bear might be around any corner!

It was stunning country and hard not to stop and take it all in but again I felt very alone out here so pressed on.

I did pass two guys on horses along here. The lead horse started to spook so I stopped, said hi and that I would wait for them to pass. They thanked me and said the the horse didn't know what I was until I started talking. I apologised and said I would have started talking earlier.....if I had had the breath to do it. They laughed at me. I laughed at their dumb horses. I call that one even.

Eventually I came to Togwotee  Lodge (pronounced Toga-tee) which was right on the highway. The route went bush back near Moran Junction when it could have just climbed straight up the highway and shaved miles off. At this point I would have been happy if the rest of the ride was on dead flat, straight, sealed road all the way to Mexico! Despite the exquisite weather and scenery, my sense of humour was being sorely tested.

At the lodge, standard top-up ensued.

While I rested I got talking to one of the off duty reception staff who said this place was pretty quiet in summer but went off in winter. All of the cabins and snow mobiles that I had just climbed past out the back sort of gave that away though. A tourer, whose bike you can see in the picture above. came along for a chat. He knew about the Divide Race and the Trans America race that was happening at the moment. He told me Jesse Carlsson was crushing it in the Tran America. Way to go Jesse! We chatted bikes for a while before I said it was time to make a move.

That move was going to be on the main highway for a while as the route climbed Togwotee Pass. It was getting cold now but was bearable as long as I kept moving.

The scenery was spectacular again as I approached the highest pass on the ride so far, Togwotee Pass.

I almost went over the pass and down the steep road that beckoned but something said "no". I checked the gps and sure enough I had to take a left at the Wind River Lake picnic ground and track via Brooks Lake Rd.  Holy picture postcard perfect Batman!!

This was a spectacular section of trail where I snapped away at the scenery while whistling madly and spinning frenetically. It looked like bear country, even more so than any since Canada.

There was ice still on the side of the trail.

I felt super slow on the climb as I was now around 10 000ft. 

I was very glad when the road began descending and I had to use brakes again.

Hooting along at 40-50km/h, a woman with her kids almost cleaned me up with her huge truck as she cut a blind corner. I had enough room to move but was not very impressed with her "there won't be anything coming" technique.

Brooks Lake road popped me back onto the highway, the same highway as before but pointing in a very downhill fashion. I was soon at Lava Mountain Lodge where it was time to fill the tank again. They tried to sell me ribs with sides but I just felt like the sides today. I got a mountain of coleslaw and potato salad for about $4.50. I still couldn't get over how cheap food is in this country!

I tuned into the lodge's wifi to see where everyone was. I could see Beth and Simon were part way across the CDT alternate that formed the route this year, as opposed to the Union Pass section of previous years. Greg and Evan, the Kiwis were just in front of them with Robb Orr. While I loved the look of this lodge and really wanted to stay, it was only 6pm and I had at least 4 hours daylight left. Time to man-up and press on. I topped up my water and did just that.

Very soon the route turned off the highway and took to the dirt, climbing up into the hills. I was grovelling along with plenty of time to think about this move. I was following tyre tracks in the dust when I noticed a huge bear paw print on the trail. It was very crisp looking. I looked away. If I didn't see it, it didn't exist....I pretended I didn't see it.

It was getting late as I crested the climb then bombed down into a wide, open valley. A few trucks passed me here, the occupants all dressed up like they were going out to dinner. I waved and they waved back. This was nice.

Then I came to the CDT alternate. I think Scott Morris found this section last year on his mega CDT bikepack trip and thought it would be a more fitting section for a mountain bike race than the sealed road up and over Union Pass. Sounds plausible.

Arriving at the trail head at about 8pm I immediately noticed all of the "bear aware" signs and bear box for food. The trail itself is narrow and looks dark. "How long is this thing?" I ask myself knowing I don't know the answer. I zoom out on the gps then put the pointer on Union Pass road. 11km - in a straight line. Hmmm, I really don't want to camp here. I really don't want to go back to Lava Mountain but I really don't want to go into that bear filled forest. Again, I give myself an uppercut and think if I pedal really hard, 11km won't take long.

It starts out just like I plan with fast flowing trail but then as I get into the old growth section of the forest it gets dark, very, very still and there is fallen timber everywhere making it hard to see far. I am whistling like crazy - until a hike-a-bike section sees me off and out of breath pushing up a very steep climb. Something in the order of 30-35%. I can't even whistle. All I can hear are my footfalls and rasping breath in the thick silence. 

Get. Me. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here

As soon as the trail levels I remount and even Jay Petervary himself wouldn't have stayed with me! I smoke out of the trees into a clearing with a CDT blaze on a pole. I am suddenly on a mountain top, a huge, open, flat mountain top. And I am brave again. Fuck you bears, I am stopping to take photos!

Now I can see why they included this section of trail. From up here there are snow capped mountain ranges on three sides. It is a dead still, warm, even though the sun is setting and though I am at 10000ft. It is simply stunning....

I make up for the lack of photos back there, where I was terrified Dave.

I don't dally too long though as I know there will be a similar ring of trees on the drop off this mountain top meadow. 

I soon come up to a huge herd of Elk that are trying to cross the trail in front of me and jump a fence. The first 10 or so get across but then I enter their comfort zone and they gallop along, a constant 200 metres ahead, trying to jump the fence, then running on again. I can hear them getting agitated and figure there are at least 50 of them. They weight a few hundred kilograms each and I am all alone. I stop for a minute and they all cross the trail then jump the fence. They are happy. I am happy.

I see the tyre tracks of the other riders on the trail in front of me, as I have done all race but this time I know who they belong to. They are at least 3-4 hours old meaning their riders are probably 30-40 miles ahead. A very safe buffer here on the divide.

As I descend off the mountain I have another encounter with deer. This time I stop right away and let them cross as I don't need to agitate them and they won't stop until they get across. The time for photography has passed. It is too dark and I just want to get out of here. There are several campgrounds along the Union Pass road and I figure I will camp at one of them.

Well after dark I pass the first one. It consists of a toilet block on some semi flat ground. This will do. I check in the male toilet and find it is quite large and clean. There is no way I am sleeping outside so I wheel my bike inside and lock the door. I lay my tent out then my mat and sleeping bag. There is plenty of room in here. Obviously, this is snow country and they must be designed to be emergency shelters in bad weather. Good thinking.

I manage to stretch, eat and check my map from the safety and comfort of my thunderbox. I had a pretty good day today considering I started in the rough (golf pun) and puttered along to Flagg Ranch (see what I'm doing...) then drove through Yellowstone. All up it was a 218km (135mi) and 3100m (10 200ft) day until my hole-in-one.

Cheers.