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.

Tour Divide 2015 - Day 8

I had set my alram for a leisurely 6am. When it went off I just lay there for a few minutes thinking "do I really have to get on my bike today"? I grabbed my phone off the charger and looked at Trackleaders to see where people were. There was a conga line of about 8 riders making their way into Lima from about 20 miles out right up to 5 miles out! I could see that Brett, Josh and Jill were in the group. I didn't want to be passed by that many riders! It was best they don't see me lest I become a mental win for their tired minds and best that they don't become a mental defeat for my tired mind.

I jumped out of bed and quickly began packing up my now dry tent and all of my other belongings that were sprawled across the room. I was trying to shove all of the food I had bought last night into my stuffed bags, not without some difficulty.

Leaving the motel room I saw that the truck stop was open so went and grabbed my morning Starbucks Frappacino. While downing it Brett and Josh rolled in. We exchanged greetings and they said they camped about 20 miles out as they just couldn't reach Lima last night. I told them there were a lot of riders in the same boat as they were trickling into town now. Looking at a grassy spot 50 yards from the truck stop there were a few small tents set up, being late night arrivals. and I noticed Robb Orr appear out of one. I had thought he was long gone. 

The divide does that though. I forget that everyone is struggling each day, trying to find the strength to go on. From the outside people look so strong and focussed but I guess inside these mid-pack racers are much like myself. Tired and trying to maintain the self discipline or motivation to go on. My motivation this morning is the conga line of riders approaching. Beth and Simon's dots are far to the east of Lima having, as I expected, left early this morning. I bid Brett farewell (until next time) and head off toward Idaho. Yes, we get a new state today!

Riding into the morning sun is always my favourite part of the day. The air is still and shadows contrast the landscape. The hills to the east of Lima look like the cover art on the "Ride The Divide" DVD case and I wonder if this is where they got their inspiration.

The roads here are very open.Trees are nonexistant. This would be a section from hell with a strong headwind.

But this morning, there is no wind and I make good time along these relatively flat farm roads. We are heading east toward Macks Inn/Island Park which are just service stops on the I-20 for drivers on the way to Yellowstone but full-on oases to divide riders.

I am soon passing a glassy still Lima Reservoir. Where was that water last night when I needed it?

The open countryside exposed a lot of road to the eye. This can potentially be crushing for the mind but today I was just loving the fact that there weren't any hills and I could easily turn pedals to produce 25-30km/h speeds.

Coming into Lakeview I caught another rider. It turned out to be Doug W. He was on a woodchipper equipped Salsa Fargo so we exchanged bike notes for a bit. He reminded me that I owed him one as he had arrived at the motel in Lima not long before me last night and told them that there was another rider right behind him that would want a room-the last room- and would they hold it. Doug thought that rider was Mitchell, the guy I passed on the Sheep Creek divide crossing but I had leapfrogged into room-winning position now! I thought it was my phone call from the High Country Lodge that secured me the room but apparently not. I thanked Doug very much. ;)

Lakeview came and went as we chatted and I almost forgot to get my camera out to get a snap of this western movie set like town.

I was maintaining a slightly higher pace than Doug so drifted off ahead of him. We had come close to the continental divide again with the Centennial Mountains being just a few kilometres south of us. This was Mt Something or other....I really should have taken a photo of the sign....

The divide coming closer meant my nice flat ride was about to come to an abrupt halt. It was time to go vertical again with the climb up to Red Rock Pass. I had been on the bike for 5:45 by this stage and was glad to get off and walk for a while. As the grade shallowed out I hopped back on and pedalled up to the pass with it's must-do photo opportunity.

I was leaving Montana! There is some Tour Divide folklore that if you can make it out of Montana, you are likely to finish the ride because Montana is brutal. In a race that is north to south, Montana has you going south, east, west and north and lets not forget, up. It is probably bulldust because, as I was going to find out, there are plenty of challenging sections in the southern states that are pushing you to quit. But today, in the nice warm sun on another divide crossing I was happy to be a believer. 

The ride down from Red Rock pass was fast and sketchy as the road was made up of crushed granite. I had a front end slide in a high speed corner that would have been very messy had I not saved it so I backed off the pace in the interests of self preservation. The road soon went up again and high speed front end slides were but a distant memory.

Here, my lack of really-in-depth route knowledge produced a pleasant surprise. I came to an RV park that I had no idea existed. It had a little shop that was chocka-block full of ice creams and sodas! It probably sold other things but all I saw were the ice cream and soda! Just short of two cans and an ice cream sandwich later Doug rolled in for some as well.

Red Rock RV and Camping Park was a little oasis that I would have loved to stay at as the sun was now beating down on me. The intensity of it's bite really had to be felt, being far more savage than the Aussie sun. I guess that altitude may have something to do with it and I was ruing my decision to mail my sun sleeves to Steamboat Springs, another 4 days along route at least.

With a belly full of ice cream and a thunerstorm in the faaar distance I was a happy lad.

It was only a short ride through some fun atv trails to the Macks Inn service stop. Subway seemed to be the obvious choice and we availed ourselves of their air conditioning and wifi. I wasn't hungry as I had just gorged myself on ice cream but Doug tucked in. I rolled across the road to the supermarket and grabbed some cinnamon bagels for a possible camp tonight.

Next up was the dreaded rail trail. Everything written about it dripped loathing and I was about to find out why.

It was an old railway line which had been converted to a recreational trail. This meant that atvs ripped up and down it all day long. How this is exciting, being 50km (30mi) of dead straight trail, I don't know but thousands can't be wrong, right?

Anyway, I almost ate it turning into the bloody abomination. The loose, deep, dark gravel is like riding in a sandpit. It got slightly better the further I got from the trail head but it was always hard work.

The trail always looked smoother and firmer on the other side but when you crossed the centre ridge you found it just as bad. I felt like it was gently climbing (it was actually flat) and I was also pushing a 25mph headwind in the exposed sections so standing on the pedals and powering through was the only way to go. I was glad I didn't know how long it was. I had 30 kilometres in my head for some reason. If I had known it was 50km I would have spat it. As it was I did stop twice to swear profusely into the wind. That helped.......

I had decided that this trail had no redeeming features, none at all. If it did, there would be recreational riders on the trail. Lo and behold I started passing recreational riders. I was passing them very quickly actually as I had been tromping it since I entered the trail and now that the surface was hard packed I was getting some significant forward motion happening!

I had to be careful passing these larger groups as they were in a world of their own and not expecting some hairy, smelly bikepack racer to come barrelling past. but I could see why they were distracted. This end of the trail was absolutely beautiful!

I was soon riding through the Warm River campground at the end of the trail. It had taken me 3 hours to do that 50 kilometres (30mi) at what felt like cross country race effort levels. It sure was nice to be off it but now the road went steeply up and a vicious wind was battering me around. At one point I actually got caught off guard and blown off the road!

Feeling spent after the last 3 hours of rail trail fun, I flopped in the shade on somebody's front lawn as soon as I climbed out of the Warm River valley. This was also because I was in the open now and the 30mph wind brought me to a standstill. Munching one of my flattened bagels I checked the ACA map for accommodation options. Squirrel Creek lodge was my planned stop for the night but I noticed on the map that they required 24 hours prior notice. How could you guarantee where you were going to be in 24 hours time on the divide? I had weak cell reception so I tried calling them but the line just went dead.

Just then another rider pulled up beside me. We exchanged hellos but I didn't catch his name. He looked very young but I guess I looked very old to him. He pulled out a Sub and munched away while I tore my bagel a new one.......not much was said. It was one of those "I've been on my own all day and just want some company" moments. He finished up and said he was pushing on into the ferocious wind. I said I might sit here a bit longer. I watched him crawl along that shoulderless, narrow road being buffetted by the gale. This open farmland gave no shelter.

From where I sat on the lawn I could just see the top of the Grand Tetons in the distance. They are awe inspiring. They inspired even more awe when I considered that I had to ride right around to the other side of them.

Remounting, I battled into the abominable headwind like my young counterpart. Luckily there was only about a mile to go before the route took a hard left onto Cave Falls road and that 30mph wind was all tailwind. I was feeling pretty toasted now and when I came to a sign that said "Squirrel Creek lodge, 2 miles south then 1 mile east" I thought "no way am I going that far off route". Right next to it was a sign for Timberline Golf Club with accommodation and meals just 0.4 mile ahead. "I'll go there" I thought. Now, I had my gps scale zoomed in pretty well, to about 160m, so the last time I looked the route went straight. Here I was thinking that Squirrel Creek was off route and Timberline on route - even though I had been staring at the map not 15 minutes ago and Squirrel Creek was clearly on route. In hindsight this was one of my lowest points of the race as thinking was clearly not happening! I was very tired.

Anyway, I rolled down to Timberline and rocked into the clubhouse to enquire about a room. "Sure thing, you can have a cabin and we are doing a $10 buffet tonight if you would like that" they said. I enquired if I could wash my kit as well and they said they would do it for me. Even better.

So I was escorted to my cabin, which was a quarter mile out the back of the golf course. The ladies in the golf cart took my dirty, smelly kit to wash (I apologised profusely for it's state) and said they would be back in 30 minutes to pick me up for dinner. Cool. A nice long shower then I dressed myself very stylishly in my merino longjohns, my puffy jacket and bike shoes with no socks....the only clothes I had! How I looked for the last 8 days had been the furthest thing from my mind but suddenly I was extremely self conscious. Especially when I got to the clubhouse and there were about 30 people there!

I sat in the room next door to where the main group was so I could spread my maps out on the table. I was offered a beer and when I enquired what they had was told "Fat Tyre". I had abstained these last six months as part of my training but after my free Bud last night I thought "why not" and had my first real beer since Banff (I had broken my drought with a beer each night there). Looking around I spied what I hoped would be my only bears.

Dinner was a seafood buffet, which is always dodgy this far from an ocean, plus the usual mountains of pasta salad, coleslaws etc that Americans seem to enjoy. I kept the seafood to a minimum but piled up the fresh coleslaw and pasta salads. I am pretty sure I got my $10 worth!

I even got a buggy ride back to my cabin and my clean kit presented to me. It was about 9pm now so the buffet wasn't the best use of time but I just could not have ridden any further today, especially with a wild camp as my only real option.

209km with just 1000m climbing was a pretty easy day compared to the last week. If it wasn't for the climb into Yellowstone (the road went up from here) and my knackered state I would have pressed on. Or so I told myself.

Cheers.