I stayed in Provo, Utah for
the spring of 2004 and took a full load of classes during that
term. This was the first time that I had ever stayed in
Utah for the summer and I thought that it would be a good idea
to get ahead a little bit in school. I took history,
multi-variable calculus, and engineering dynamics that term and
was planning on taking summer term classes as well. A few
weeks before the end of spring term, I was talking to Dad.
I told him that I was basically burnt out on school and he
mentioned that he had an extra trailer if I wanted to go on the
bike trip with him. (Mom was planning on going, but opted
out) I only had about 3 weeks to get ready, but I jumped
at the chance and dropped all of my classes that I had
registered for summer term. I bought my bike and had a
grand total of 14 training miles on it before we left for
Canada. That was definitely not a good thing and I vowed
to be in much better shape before finishing the trail in 2005.
We had a family reunion in
Idaho during the last part of June, so Mom and Kendra took us
straight from there up to the Port of Rooseville on the
US-Canadian border where the route started. That poor van
was loaded with six people, four bikes on the hitch rack, and
four loaded BOB trailers on the roof. We arrived there
rather late in the afternoon on June 28, 2004 and after striking
up a conversation with the owner of a little bar/restaurant
across the street from the border Patrol building, he offered to
let us camp out on his new covered deck. It had started
raining, so we were grateful for the solid roof. This far
north it stayed light until after 11:00 pm, so we took advantage
and did some last minute packing and arranging of all our gear
and then went to bed. The next morning, June 29, 2004, we
had what would soon become the standard breakfast of oatmeal and
then hooked up the BOBs. It was exciting to get going but
also a bit frightening to see Mom drive away in the van leaving
us over a thousand miles from home with only bicycles to get us
to our destination.
Day 1: 29 June 2004
Port of Rooseville to Tuchuck Campground
41.6 Miles
The
first day was an awakening for all of us. We all thought
we were in “good” shape, but our definition of good was not good
enough for the Great Divide. The 40 miles that we rode
that day made up the longest bike ride I had ever been on, and
that was just Day 1! We spent the vast majority of the day
climbing up the Whitefish Divide and then rolled down the last
mile or so into Tuchuck campground well after dark. It was
quite a struggle to stay awake long enough to eat some ravioli
and set up the tents and bear bags. Welcome to Montana.
We also saw our first black bear of the trip.
Day 2: 30 June 2004
Tuchuck CG to Red Meadow Lake
30.1 Miles
The first part of today’s ride was great
because it was downhill. We rode through some of the burn
areas
from the huge forest fires that Montana has experienced over the
past few years. The color contrast was incredible.
The downhill portion did not last long though, and soon it was
back to “granny” gear climbing up Red Meadow Road to another
pass. The campsite for tonight was at the summit, and
right on the shore of Red Meadow Lake. The view from the
picnic table was breathtaking. I was the first one awake
the next
morning and I saw the lake still covered in a thick mist with
the peaks rising up above on all sides. As I stood there
admiring the beauty of it all, I glanced down and saw our bikes
and was astonished that we had actually ridden bicycles to this
place. We were all very new at “bike-packing” and to be
honest, it really hadn’t settled in yet that this was going to
be our life for the next five weeks.
Day 3: 01 July 2004
Red Meadow Lake to Whitefish Lake State Park
30.7 Miles
Today’s ride was straightforward: down the
pass from Red Meadow Lake, then a few smaller climbs, then down
some more to the north end of Whitefish Lake and around to the
town of Whitefish at the south end. The downhill in the
morning coming off the pass was a fast one and I got some fun
video footage by strapping the camera to my BOB trailer.
About a mile off the route in the town of Whitefish
is a great little state park as long as train whistles don’t
wake you up at night. One problem that none is us ever
experienced during this trip was insomnia. When it was
time for bed, we went to bed, regardless of the outside noises.
Our campsite was just a few yards from the lake, where we had a
great view of Big Mountain Ski Resort. Scott and Braedon even
managed to borrow a canoe from another camper and went out on
the water. After a quick, cold swim and then a wonderful
hot shower, we turned in for the night.
Day 4: 02 July 2004
Whitefish Lake State Park to Wayfarer State Park (Flathead
Lake)
42.4 Miles
Flat is a relative term on the GDMBR, but
today’s ride was “flat” compared to the first three days.
We left Whitefish and headed south along some back roads where
we ran into a couple riding a tandem bike. We stopped to
chat with them and they told us about a cycling trip they had
just finished riding through Ireland. The tandem they were
riding was a custom bike with quick disconnects on the frame
that allowed them to take the bike apart in a matter of minutes
and fit the entire thing into three airline-size
cases. I wonder if I could ever get Angela to do something
like that with me… We continued riding through the small
towns of Columbia Falls and Swan River. At the point where
the route crosses the Swan River, we turned off the route and
rode along the river trail for a couple of miles to the even
smaller town of Bigfork which is on the northeastern shore of
Flathead Lake. Wayfarer's State Park is located here and
was our planned destination. Being 4th of July weekend, we
were worried about finding a campsite, so we had called ahead
the day before to ask if they had any openings. The host
told Dad on the phone that she always held a couple spots just
for cyclists, and that if something happened to those sites, we
could set up our tents on her lawn. When we arrived at the
park, the "campground full" sign was up, but the host was still
waiting for us in the booth. She directed us to a parking
lot where her husband was waiting to show us to our site.
On the north end of the park, there are three sites reserved for
people who arrive in "human powered" vehicles (bikes, kayaks,
etc) and they had saved one for us. The tent pad was about
ten feet from the shore and we even finished dinner in time to
enjoy the sunset.
Day 5: 03 July 2004
Wayfarer State Park to Metcalf Lake
33 Miles
Once
again, Dad made friends with our neighbors in the campground.
He talked while we broke camp (this procedure became quite
standard). The route today took us back up into the
mountains. Just a few miles outside of Bigfork, we
reentered Flathead National Forest and began climbing.
Stopping on the side of the road for lunch of tuna and pasta was
also rapidly becoming the standard. We followed several
forest service roads above Swan Lake and through part of the
Swan River National Wildlife Refuge. One section of the
trail was slightly downhill and there were occasional humps to
divert the water drainage. I was riding along side Dad
when I saw one of these humps and decided to try and catch a
little air. I started pedaling harder and accelerating and
pulled up right when I hit the hump. I definitely went
airborne, but the next thing that I clearly remember is standing
hunched over and trembling after impact. Dad saw the whole
thing and explained to me that my trailer had swung out to the
side when I was in the air. Upon touchdown, the trailer
hit and whipped the bike to the right and threw me "end-o" right
over the handlebars. I think I was going about 20 mph when
I hit the jump. Dad said I did a nice tuck-and-roll and
popped right back onto my feet before I came to a stop.
Although it wasn't nearly as bad as Dad thought, some damage was
done. There was a silver-dollar size chunk broken out of
the left side of my helmet and the resulting lump on my head.
My left shoulder had a little bit of abrasion, the skin on my
left elbow and forearm was completely shredded, my left hip was
bruised and bleeding slightly, and there was also a pretty good
road rash on my left knee. Can you tell which side I
landed on? My whole body was in pain, and it took me a few
minutes to get back on my bike. We were a long ways from
nowhere, so I was fortunate to be able to keep riding. I
vowed not to do anything so stupid again. One
benefit from Dad's morning conversations was that we learned
about a small lake right off the trail that wasn't even on the
map. After my acrobatic display, I didn't really want to
keep on riding, so Metcalf Lake was where we decided to camp and
I got to break open my new first aid kit.
Needless to say, I was a little stiff this
morning and didn't plan on breaking any speed records today.
Thank goodness for Ibuprofen. Back on the trail, after 20
some miles, we decided to take a detour down into Condon, MT to
get some supplies. There wasn't much there but a small
mercantile/gas station and a couple of cafe/restaurant/bars.
After loading up on groceries, we stopped at a cafe to eat an
early dinner. Just as we were about to leave, the rain
started coming down in sheets. Loud thunder and lightning
too. Dad had once again started talking to a couple seated
in the café and they offered to let us stay in their barn for
the night. It was pouring down so hard that a barn sounded
like the Marriot.
They had an older full size Chevy pickup, so we piled everything
into the back (including us three boys) and Dad hopped in the
cab with Rick and Linda Perry. They took us back up the
highway for a few miles and then turned east just opposite the
gravel road we had come down on. We followed a forest
service road for a couple of more miles to their gate and then
another half mile or so to their spread. The house is a
log cabin that was built back in 1933 by a couple of Finnish
brothers and their families. The logs are Larch and all
hand hewn with a Danish cope (the bottom of each log is carved
out so that it fits perfectly on the log below – no gaps).
Around the house are several other out buildings: a two-seater
out house, a tack shed, a garage, and the barn; all built with
the same craftsmanship. The main cabin sits up on a knoll
between two huge meadows and thick forest everywhere else.
At the base of the knoll there was a mud-pit wallow where the
deer liked to come and chew on the mud – apparently they get
some of their needed nutrients that way.
After
we got everything settled, Rick gave us the "nickel" tour and
invited us inside for some tea. The cabin was decorated
with a definite Montana style. We sat inside and drank the
tea and watched the deer outside in the wallow. Rick had a
few weapons on a gun rack in the living room and Scott and
Braedon showed a great deal of interest, so later on Rick asked
Dad if it would be alright to let "the boys" shoot. Scott
and Braedon were ecstatic and I think Dad was just as excited.
We went out to the smaller meadow and Rick taught us how to
safely handle the guns and how to load/unload them and then let
each of us shoot a few rounds. It was soon dark, so we
called it a night.
Day 7: 05 July 2004
Holland Lake Lodge turnoff to Seely Lake, MT
35 Miles
This morning, Rick let us shoot again and
Linda made us some more tea and peanut butter sandwiches
on delicious hazelnut bread. Then they loaded us back into
the pickup and drove us down the highway, past the cafe a couple
of miles to the point where we could get back on the trail at
the Holland Lake
Lodge turnoff. What amazing people. After we said
our goodbyes we started climbing again toward Richmond Peak.
The book talked about some "single track" and overgrown trails
in this area so we were excited. Today's ride would also
take us right alongside the Bob Marshall Wilderness area which
boasts the highest concentration of grizzly bears in the lower
48. As we climbed there were some grizzly tracks that we
saw in the fresh mud and also an almost staggering amount of
bear scat on the road, but we didn't see any of the producers.
From the gravel we turned onto a "closed to motor vehicles" road
that was overgrown. At the next turn, the road was even
more overgrown and there were several downed trees that we had
to negotiate. At first we would wait until everyone was
together and then take
turns
lifting the bikes and trailers over the deadfall. After
doing this 7 or 8 times, Braedon got tired of waiting and blazed
a new "trail" through some of the smaller trees on one side.
It was funny to watch him disappear, see the trees shaking and
swaying, hear him grunting, and then see him pop out on the
other side. We all followed him and it was more of a
struggle than I had anticipated. We had a good laugh.
There was one more gravel section to the climb and then we
turned onto another gated road. This is where trail skirts
around Richmond Peak with washed out sections and plenty of
logs, rocks, and other obstacles. After a short climb on
this road, the descent began, and it was a screamer. I
stopped and strapped the video camera to my BOB again and got
some good footage. After loosing nearly all of the
altitude that we had gained earlier in the day, we were once
again on gravel and finished the day going two miles off the
trail into Seely Lake to another campground. Seely Lake is
a small little tourist town, we stopped at a hamburger joint to
eat dinner and honestly were not at all impressed with the
people there. The local kids were throwing firecrackers at
each other just a few feet from our table - it's not worth going
off the trail here unless you need supplies.
Day 8: 06 July 2004
Seely Lake, MT to Big Nelson CG
44.5 Miles
Today's
ride was relatively flat. We went through the even smaller
town of Ovando and got a kick out of the welcome sign -
"Population: about 50, Dogs: over 100." We pushed on
through more flat farmland and began climbing again when we got
close to Helena National Forest. We again finished the day
with a mile or two off the trail to Big Nelson Camp on Coopers
Lake. There was only one other group camping there - 3
guys that were building a huge log cabin complete with a tennis
court bordering the campground. They had a bunch of fire
wood which they shared with us and even invited us down for some
dinner. We ate corn on the cob and hamburgers cooked on
the fire. Mmmm-mmm, good.
Day 9: 07 July 2004
Big Nelson CG to Lincoln, MT
24.1 Miles
This morning it was pouring down rain. We were
reluctant to even leave the tents, but we did anyway, ate
breakfast, and packed up. I don't know if Dad consciously
planned this, but we split up the weight of the tent by having
him carry the poles and stakes and I carried the tent and the
fly. When everything was dry, this was a fair division,
but lucky for him, aluminum poles don't tend to soak up much
water. :)
The
elevation profile on the map showed an extremely steep climb to
Huckleberry Pass, but lucky for us the profile is quite
exaggerated here. Right near the summit, we met a pair of
GDMBR rider's that were going south to north, so we stopped to
chat with them for a while. It was great to exchange tips
and experiences about what was to come. They were pretty
excited to see 4 BOBs all together, so they took a picture of
us. We cruised down the back side of the pass and after a
few smaller climbs and descents turned onto Highway 200.
With the pavement came a ferocious headwind, but we soon arrived
in Lincoln and camped in the city park at the east end of town.
We also had some deer visitors in and around the campsite.
There were only a couple other groups camping, so once again we
had most of the campground to ourselves. We ate dinner in
“town” and loaded up on supplies to get us through the next two
days until Helena.
Day 10: 08 July 2004
Lincoln, MT to Deadman Creek Campsite
29.2 Miles
It stayed dry this morning, so it was quite
nice to pack up a dry tent. Today we crossed the actual
Continental Divide for the first time. The climb followed
an old mining road up Poorman’s Creek. Scott wasn’t too
thrilled about something – I can’t remember what made him upset.
Dad and he had a “talk”
right
before we left the main road and crossed a concrete bridge and
headed up alongside Poorman’s Creek. During the first
couple of miles there were four or five creek crossings and lots
of puddles and mud. Braedon had stopped at a large one to
wait and see how the rest of us went around. Scott came up
behind him and tried to just plow through. He made it a
little over half-way before the mud got too deep and he sunk,
stepping off the bike into shin-deep muddy water. It
turned out to be a good thing though. I hollered at him to
wait so I could get the camera out and we all started laughing.
I also got some good pictures.
The climb got quite a bit steeper as we
passed several old log cabins. We imagined that they were
all
from
the mining days. Some may have been kept up longer by
hunters, but some were basically a pile of old logs. We
stopped and poked around for a few minutes in one that was home
to several large rats. After crossing the divide, we
dropped down Marsh Creek canyon and then headed towards Little
Prickly Pear Creek. We followed the book’s suggestion to
head off route on FR 774 to Deadman Creek campsite. I
don’t think we ever found it really, after a while we decided to
just plop down under some large trees along a creek. There
were a lot of cattle in the area, so after poop patrol we set up
tents and Dad got out his fishing gear for the first time and
landed a monster five inch trout.
Day 11: 09 July 2004
Deadman Creek Campsite to Helena, MT
35.4 Miles
Awakened
by cows, we packed up and headed back down FR 774 to rejoin the
route. A nice climb ensued alongside Empire Creek.
Here we passed the remnants of a huge mining operation. We
explored some more and collected several old, rusty, square
nails. Dad was looking at rocks and had that “gold-fever”
look in his eyes. The structures that remained were mostly
just huge rock foundations (3-4 stories high) and it was evident
that fires had destroyed the majority of the wood structure.
During the rest of today’s ride we crossed the C.D. twice, the
second one being Priest Pass which led to a WONDERFUL downhill
almost all the way into Helena. We pulled up to a gas
station right on the outskirts of town and after ice cream
sandwiches, we found a small hotel for the night.
10 July 2004
Rest Day in Helena
Today was our first rest day. The
hotel we found had good beds and hot showers – it’s amazing how
much you take those simplicities for granted. It was up on
the extreme west end of town. Unfortunately, everything
else is on the east end of town. We rode four miles
to Wal-Mart, but we had lunch at Golden Corral. After
eating so much that we could hardly move, we stopped at Wal-Mart
for groceries, the headed back up to the hotel. We also
stopped at a bike shop to check out Scott’s and Braedon’s
brakes. They weren’t adjusted right and the calipers had
actually cut grooves in the rotors. Not good. $120
later they both had new rotors and pads installed. Dad and
I also got and extra set of pads and I bought a new seat; one
with the v-channel to allow better blood flow. A certain
area was going to sleep that shouldn’t, it was actually quite
painful so hopefully the seat will help. For Angela’s
sake, for my sake, for our posterity’s sake
J. I miss her,
I miss sitting in the living room watching Seinfeld with her and
listening to her laugh. I miss holding her.
Day 12: 11 July 2004
Helena, MT to Park Lake CG
20.9 Miles
We
found out where a chapel was here in Helena and were able to
attend Church this morning. We only stayed for Sacrament
meeting. The talks were a little different – a couple
spoke that had ten kids and had adopted several more.
Actually the wife spoke and didn’t really leave any time for her
husband. She seemed to be quite controlling
and it was obvious who wore the pants in that relationship.
Regardless, it was extremely nice to attend and partake.
Today’s ride was luckily short, mostly
climbing up and out of Helena, past several old mining
reminders. We camped at Park Lake which was a beautiful,
high, arid lake surround by large granite boulders and
outcroppings. The soil around the lake had a lot of
decomposed granite. Dad said the setting really reminded
him of camping in Southern California growing up. We tried
the fishing thing again, but this time got skunked.
Day 13: 12 July 2004
Park Lake CG to Butte, MT
48.8 Miles
Today’s ride started off with some real
mountain biking on the Lava Mountain Trail #244. Most of
it
was two-track climbing and descending through arid pine forests.
There was actually quite a bit of technical riding through here
which was a nice change of pace from the gravel forest roads.
At one incredible steep and rocky section I parked the bike to
get the video camera out and film everyone else attempt the
descent. Everyone had to bail at some point, I’m still
amazed at how Dad stayed on his feet. As I went back to
get my bike, I heard a hissing sound and thought that I had
punctured a tire. It was coming from the rear, so I bent
down to be able to hear better and lifted the bike up only to
get a small blast of pepper spray. With all the bouncing
over roots and rocks, the contents of my BOB bag shifted just
enough so that the hook on the bungee cord puncture the can of
Bear Spray that I had in the bottom. It must have poked
through when I parked the bike. I immediately dropped the
bike and ran back into the trees, waiting until I couldn’t hear
the hissing sound. That stuff was potent. (Even
typing this entry two years later I can almost feel the burning
in my
nose).
I proceeded to unload everything in my bag. Luckily most
of it was individually wrapped in plastic zip-loc bags. I
had a little mesh ditty bag with spare inner tubes that was
completely soaked, so I loaded them into a separate plastic bag.
I did the same with the now empty $40 can of Bear Spray. I
did my best to clean out my BOB bag with what I had, but I
couldn’t get it all and spent time over the next few nights
scrubbing. My hands, nose, and throat burned for days.
We dropped down alongside Hoodoo Creek and
passed some active mining operations and a couple old abandoned
ones. The Hattie Ferguson Mine actually had a for-sale
sign in the ground out front. Hopefully that doesn’t
become prime real estate anytime soon, much too beautiful to get
developed. We continued dropping all the way down to the
interstate I-15. I’ll be honest; it was hard not to think
about thumbing a ride back down to exit 272 in Utah. We
followed a “Nonmaintained Cattle Access Trail” along the
interstate and then climbed up above it on an old rail-trail.
After going through Tunnel #9 we dropped back down to I-15,
riding on a frontage road and then actually riding on the
interstate after Elk Park Pass to drop down into Butte.
The McDonald’s there had a nice bike rack out in front, so we
got some ice cream before riding down a nice paved bike trail to
an old KOA. Hooray for showers and lots of soap.
Day 14: 13 July 2004
Butte, MT to Beaver Dam CG
36.3 Miles
After
more shopping and a stop at the Sportsman Bike Shop where we all
bought some additional water bottles and I bought new gloves
(the old ones were a lost cause because of the Bear Spray) we
headed out of Butte at about 1:00 pm. We did a lot of climbing
today and definitely should have gotten an earlier start. We
crossed the CD for the 5th time at an unsigned
junction. The map says the elevation is about 7,500 feet and
then the trail leveled out for a few more miles. Here we had
some spectacular views of the Pioneer Mountains – lots of reds
and browns – and we met an old cowboy checking gates on his
4-wheeler with his dog riding on the back rack. We stopped and
chatted with him for quite a while, his Mom had homesteaded this
area back in the thirties and he had been a cowboy his entire
life. He even rode bulls for a while. We continued on and came
to a screaming downhill all the way back down to I-15 at about
5,700 ft. As soon as we crossed under the interstate, it was
back up into the
mountains. We finally made it to the intended campsite at about
10:30 pm only to find out that it was closed because the Forest
Service was spraying for pine beetles. So we went to a nice
open spot in the trees on the other side of the road and set up
camp. Here were more of the huge granite boulders along a small
creek. Once again, no trouble whatsoever falling asleep.
Day 15: 14 July 2004
Beaver Dam CG to Little Joe CG
36.4 Miles
Today’s
ride took us up Mt. Fleecer and the descent down the backside
has gone down in infamy in many Great Divide riders’ journals.
It was absolutely insane. The mountain itself was
incredibly steep, hard to even walk up. But the trail went
straight down and was completely washed out with big, loose,
jagged rocks filling the wheel ruts. The only way we could
make it down was to make our own trail switch-backing through
the sage brush, actually trying to hit them to keep the speed
down. I think I fell four or five times on the way down,
nothing terribly serious, but scary nonetheless. The worst
part was trying to change direction on each switch-back.
Turning the bike made the BOB roll up and over the rear tire and
would send you tumbling. Dad’s method was to hold the
saddle in his armpit, both hands clamped on the brakes, and both
heals dug into the ground – and he would still slide. I
even managed to loose one of the new water bottles that I had
just bought.
We
rode into Wise River after the nightmarish descent and bought
some needed supplies at the mercantile, then ate lunch at the H
& J Café. The burgers were absolutely huge – literally a
softball size chunk of ground beef before cooking and they were
great. Dad got a salad instead of fries and said it was
the best salad he’s ever had. We figured that Wise River
must only be about 15 or 20 miles from I-15, so the next time we
take the northern route between Washington and Utah we are going
to swing in for a meal. The burger itself constituted
lunch and dinner and I still feel full. Luckily the rest
of the trail followed a Scenic Byway – nice grade and paved – so
we made good time on the last 20 miles to Little Joe Campground.
Tomorrow we are headed to Elkhorn Hot Springs, only a few more
days in Montana.
Day 16: 15 July 2004
Little Joe CG to Bannack State Park
36.5 Miles
Maybe
were not quite as close to Idaho as I thought… We cruised
the first dozen miles to Elkhorn Hot Springs, climbed off the
route to get to the springs, only to find it closed during the
day. Grrr. We didn’t really feel like hanging around
until evening, so we turned back around and continued on towards
Bannack. We were excited to get to Polaris because they
had a post office, but that too was closed, so we continued on.
Just a few miles later we were back on pavement on State Highway
278 where we joined the Trans America Bicycle Trail. We
actually met a TransAm rider there, a 60 year old guy from back
east who was riding 60 miles a day, 6 days a week and had his
wife
following in a small motor home. When we first heard 60
miles a day, we were amazed. He was pretty proud of his
accomplishment too. That seemed like a huge distance to
cover each day, but as we slowly became more experienced riders,
we realized that on a road bike you could easily do 60 miles in
less than four hours. Add to that the fact that he wasn’t
hauling any gear whatsoever and also the fact that Dad was four
years older and his accomplishment lost its luster. Still
cool that he’s doing it, but not really that impressive.
We rode off route about a half mile at the
end of the day to see Bannack State Park. Bannack was a
cool little town, well it used to be a town. Founded back
in 1863 because of gold, it soon became the capital of the
territory. By the late 1800’s however, it was already on
the decline and has been a ghost town since about 1940.
Most of the original buildings are still there and Montana
turned it into a state park. From the history that we read
there it was a rough western town. It was interesting that
the only people that made any real money were the businessmen.
The store owners and freighters came out ahead, very few of the
people looking for gold found anything substantial.
Day 17: 16 July 2004
Bannack State Park to Lima, MT
83 Miles
9 hrs ride time
From
Bannack State Park, we were racing a big thunderstorm all the
way up Sheep Creek Divide. The trail followed part of the
Lewis and Clark historic trail and the old Bannock Rd that goes
all the way to Corrine, Utah where they used to get supplies
(which is why the freighters were the ones making money).
The road is now a Backcountry Byway on BLM land. We passed
a couple small ranches, and a large obviously successful, dude
ranch on the way. A quick rain dump during lunch kept us
on our toes but the sun came out again and dried us out rather
quickly. We made it to the recommended campsite fairly early and
decided to just keep going and see how far we could get.
Luckily the storm was somewhat contained by the divide and we
only got a few sprinkles as we screamed down the backside.
We kept rolling until we met up with Big Sheep Creek and
followed that down a beautiful canyon. I saw a black bear
in the road coming around one turn. He was pretty startled
by me and just bolted. A few more wealthy home sites were
further down and eventually we popped out back in the valley.
A few more miles on the frontage road next to I-15 and we were
in Lima, MT after dark at 10:15 pm. We left Bannack at
9:20 am so 13 hours of travel time and Dad’s computer said 9
hours of seat time. We were absolutely exhausted and tried
to find the campsite in the “city” park, but there were a bunch
of No Camping signs, so we rode back to a gas station where a
policeman was and asked him about camping. There really
weren’t many options, so we went to a little hotel right off the
freeway. We worked it out so we could camp in the back the
first night and then check into a room early the next morning
for a well earned rest day.
17 July 2004
Rest day in Lima, MT
The people at the Mountain View Motel and
RV were great to us. We rolled into Lima super late and
after striking out with the supposed camping in the park, we
woke up Will, the motel manager, and he let us camp that night
and then check into the room extremely early the next day so we
would only have to pay for one night in the motel. They
took really good care of us. The little café across the
street had some good food and Dad even bough a bunch of butter
packets from them that we could use for cooking. I tried
to carry a cube of butter a few days earlier along with some
frozen peas wrapped in my collapsible wash-tub (the kitchen
sink). The sun did quite a job on the butter, reducing it
to an oily mess even before lunch time. The straps on my
BOB bag still have a buttery smell to them…
Day 18: 18 July 2004
Lima, MT to Upper Lake CG, Red Rock Lakes NWR
57.0 Miles
The ride out of Lima was mellow, lots of
dry gravel winding back and forth towards the Lima Reservoir.
Near the reservoir, a car pulled up along side of us and it was
the owner of the Mountain View Motel. We were about 12
miles from Lima, she leaned out her window and handed me Scott's
sunglasses that he had left in the room that morning. Now
that is service. We thanked her profusely and decided to
spread the word about that great little motel. The
surrounding terrain gradually became greener and more pristine as we
approached the Red Rock Lakes.
We
camped at the Upper Lake Campground in Red Rock Lakes National
Wildlife Refuge right on the shore of the Upper Lake.
There was even a small piped spring to replenish our water
supplies. Dinner was mac and cheese (using the butter
packets) with chili and it was good. We met another couple
who are north-bounders on the GDMBR. Scott and Paula are
from Tucson, AZ. It was great talking to them and swapping
stories about future sections of the trail. Scott is
working on his PhD in Computer Science and helped to write a
program called TopoFusion.
He brought along his laptop and GPS stuff to map the entire
route and they are determined to stay to the trail. We
told them about Fleecer Ridge and how much fun that would be
going up and they told us about the horrors of the atv’s and the
Rail Trail out of Island Park, ID. I found out later
through emails with Scott that he actually found the water
bottle that I lost on Fleecer Ridge. Check out his journal
entry on
July 22 going UP Fleccer.
Day 19: 19 July 2004
Upper Lake CG to Rail Trail outside Island Park, ID
35 Miles
We are finally out of Montana. The
climb up to Red Rock Pass (7,120 ft) was a nice, gentle grade.
The actual Continental Divide wraps around itself here, so as we
crossed the pass going due east, we
actually arrived on the west side of the Divide. We were
quite excited to be entering a new state so we took an abundance
of pictures with the Red Rock Pass sign in the background.
The ride down the other side went alongside beautiful Henry’s
Lake and then entered the Targhee National Forest where we
followed some fun dirt trails (snowmobile trails during the
winter) down into the town of Island Park and had a wonderful
lunch at Subway. From Scott and Paula’s suggestions, we
decided to skip the books suggestion of camping at Big Springs
so we wouldn’t hit the first (and worst) section of the Rail
Trail. They said it was just horrible wash board. So
we dropped down the highway about a mile and then followed some
other old road and made it back to the rail trail at the
beginning of the long straight part. We rode a couple of
miles until about 5:30 pm and it started to drizzle a bit with
dark, dark clouds coming in. The trail here is elevated a
bit, so we dropped off the trail a few yards, found some
relatively level spots for the tents and pitched camp.
Just before we got the rain fly on, it started dumping –
everything was nice and wet by the time we laid down.
Luckily the foot-long Subway sandwiches we had for lunch held us
over so we just went to sleep.
Day 20: 20 July 2004
Rail Trail to Warm River CG
27 Miles
It’s amazing what a solid night’s rest can
do for you. We went to bed so early last night that I
slept nearly 12 hours. The ride today continued on the
rail trail, but it became infinitely better when we got to
the
part where it was closed to motor vehicles. Even though we
skipped the worst part yesterday, we still got our share today
of 4-wheeler groups flying by. As we rode closer to the
Warm River, the trail got better and better with absolutely
stunning views. We went through a couple old wooden
tunnels and watched several fishermen down below on the banks of
the river. Just gorgeous. Warm River Campground is
the suggested stopping point for the night. We arrived in
time for lunch, so we decided to eat, relax a bit, and then push
on. Wyoming is just a few more hours. However,
Mother Nature had other plans. We were riding up the
canyon above the Warm River and a huge front moved in – the wind
was absolutely ripping. We turned around and flew back
down to the campground where we immediately set up tents.
We had already started cooking dinner when the storm hit so
luckily we were able to wait it out inside the tents.
About a half-hour later the hail and rain had stopped and we
climbed out and found almost two inches of water in Scott’s bowl
on the picnic table. It was a bit discouraging that we
didn’t ride farther today, but I’m sure glad that we didn’t try
and keep riding through that thunder storm.
was loaded with six people, four bikes on the hitch rack, and
four loaded BOB trailers on the roof. We arrived there
rather late in the afternoon on June 28, 2004 and after striking
up a conversation with the owner of a little bar/restaurant
across the street from the border Patrol building, he offered to
let us camp out on his new covered deck. It had started
raining, so we were grateful for the solid roof. This far
north it stayed light until after 11:00 pm, so we took advantage
and did some last minute packing and arranging of all our gear
and then went to bed. The next morning, June 29, 2004, we
had what would soon become the standard breakfast of oatmeal and
then hooked up the BOBs. It was exciting to get going but
also a bit frightening to see Mom drive away in the van leaving
us over a thousand miles from home with only bicycles to get us
to our destination.
The
first day was an awakening for all of us. We all thought
we were in “good” shape, but our definition of good was not good
enough for the Great Divide. The 40 miles that we rode
that day made up the longest bike ride I had ever been on, and
that was just Day 1! We spent the vast majority of the day
climbing up the Whitefish Divide and then rolled down the last
mile or so into Tuchuck campground well after dark. It was
quite a struggle to stay awake long enough to eat some ravioli
and set up the tents and bear bags. Welcome to Montana.
We also saw our first black bear of the trip.
areas
from the huge forest fires that Montana has experienced over the
past few years. The color contrast was incredible.
The downhill portion did not last long though, and soon it was
back to “granny” gear climbing up Red Meadow Road to another
pass. The campsite for tonight was at the summit, and
right on the shore of Red Meadow Lake. The view from the
picnic table was breathtaking. I was the first one awake
the next
morning and I saw the lake still covered in a thick mist with
the peaks rising up above on all sides. As I stood there
admiring the beauty of it all, I glanced down and saw our bikes
and was astonished that we had actually ridden bicycles to this
place. We were all very new at “bike-packing” and to be
honest, it really hadn’t settled in yet that this was going to
be our life for the next five weeks.
is a great little state park as long as train whistles don’t
wake you up at night. One problem that none is us ever
experienced during this trip was insomnia. When it was
time for bed, we went to bed, regardless of the outside noises.
Our campsite was just a few yards from the lake, where we had a
great view of Big Mountain Ski Resort. Scott and Braedon even
managed to borrow a canoe from another camper and went out on
the water. After a quick, cold swim and then a wonderful
hot shower, we turned in for the night.
size
cases. I wonder if I could ever get Angela to do something
like that with me… We continued riding through the small
towns of Columbia Falls and Swan River. At the point where
the route crosses the Swan River, we turned off the route and
rode along the river trail for a couple of miles to the even
smaller town of Bigfork which is on the northeastern shore of
Flathead Lake. Wayfarer's State Park is located here and
was our planned destination. Being 4th of July weekend, we
were worried about finding a campsite, so we had called ahead
the day before to ask if they had any openings. The host
told Dad on the phone that she always held a couple spots just
for cyclists, and that if something happened to those sites, we
could set up our tents on her lawn. When we arrived at the
park, the "campground full" sign was up, but the host was still
waiting for us in the booth. She directed us to a parking
lot where her husband was waiting to show us to our site.
On the north end of the park, there are three sites reserved for
people who arrive in "human powered" vehicles (bikes, kayaks,
etc) and they had saved one for us. The tent pad was about
ten feet from the shore and we even finished dinner in time to
enjoy the sunset.
Once
again, Dad made friends with our neighbors in the campground.
He talked while we broke camp (this procedure became quite
standard). The route today took us back up into the
mountains. Just a few miles outside of Bigfork, we
reentered Flathead National Forest and began climbing.
Stopping on the side of the road for lunch of tuna and pasta was
also rapidly becoming the standard. We followed several
forest service roads above Swan Lake and through part of the
Swan River National Wildlife Refuge. One section of the
trail was slightly downhill and there were occasional humps to
divert the water drainage. I was riding along side Dad
when I saw one of these humps and decided to try and catch a
little air. I started pedaling harder and accelerating and
pulled up right when I hit the hump. I definitely went
airborne, but the next thing that I clearly remember is standing
hunched over and trembling after impact. Dad saw the whole
thing and explained to me that my trailer had swung out to the
side when I
was in the air. Upon touchdown, the trailer
hit and whipped the bike to the right and threw me "end-o" right
over the handlebars. I think I was going about 20 mph when
I hit the jump. Dad said I did a nice tuck-and-roll and
popped right back onto my feet before I came to a stop.
Although it wasn't nearly as bad as Dad thought, some damage was
done. There was a silver-dollar size chunk broken out of
the left side of my helmet and the resulting lump on my head.
My left shoulder had a little bit of abrasion, the skin on my
left elbow and forearm was completely shredded, my left hip was
bruised and bleeding slightly, and there was also a pretty good
road rash on my left knee. Can you tell which side I
landed on? My whole body was in pain, and it took me a few
minutes to get back on my bike. We were a long ways from
nowhere, so I was fortunate to be able to keep riding. I
vowed not to do anything so stupid again. One
benefit from Dad's morning conversations was that we learned
about a small lake right off the trail that wasn't even on the
map. After my acrobatic display, I didn't really want to
keep on riding, so Metcalf Lake was where we decided to camp and
I got to break open my new first aid kit.
They had an older full size Chevy pickup, so we piled everything
into the back (including us three boys) and Dad hopped in the
cab with Rick and Linda Perry. They took us back up the
highway for a few miles and then turned east just opposite the
gravel road we had come down on. We followed a forest
service road for a couple of more miles to their gate and then
another half mile or so to their spread. The house is a
log cabin that was built back in 1933 by a couple of Finnish
brothers and their families. The logs are Larch and all
hand hewn with a Danish cope (the bottom of each log is carved
out so that it fits perfectly on the log below – no gaps).
Around the house are several other out buildings: a two-seater
out house, a tack shed, a garage, and the barn; all built with
the same craftsmanship. The main cabin sits up on a knoll
between two huge meadows and thick forest everywhere else.
At the base of the knoll there was a mud-pit wallow where the
deer liked to come and chew on the mud – apparently they get
some of their needed nutrients that way.
After
we got everything settled, Rick gave us the "nickel" tour and
invited us inside for some tea. The cabin was decorated
with a definite Montana style. We sat inside and drank the
tea and watched the deer outside in the wallow. Rick had a
few weapons on a gun rack in the living room and Scott and
Braedon showed a great deal of interest, so later on Rick asked
Dad if it would be alright to let "the boys" shoot. Scott
and Braedon were ecstatic and I think Dad was just as excited.
We went out to the smaller meadow and Rick taught us how to
safely handle the guns and how to load/unload them and then let
each of us shoot a few rounds. It was soon dark, so we
called it a night. 
Lodge turnoff. What amazing people. After we said
our goodbyes we started climbing again toward Richmond Peak.
The book talked about some "single track" and overgrown trails
in this area so we were excited. Today's ride would also
take us right alongside the Bob Marshall Wilderness area which
boasts the highest concentration of grizzly bears in the lower
48. As we climbed there were some grizzly tracks that we
saw in the fresh mud and also an almost staggering amount of
bear scat on the road, but we didn't see any of the producers.
From the gravel we turned onto a "closed to motor vehicles" road
that was overgrown. At the next turn, the road was even
more overgrown and there were several downed trees that we had
to negotiate. At first we would wait until everyone was
together and then take
turns
lifting the bikes and trailers over the deadfall. After
doing this 7 or 8 times, Braedon got tired of waiting and blazed
a new "trail" through some of the smaller trees on one side.
It was funny to watch him disappear, see the trees shaking and
swaying, hear him grunting, and then see him pop out on the
other side. We all followed him and it was more of a
struggle than I had anticipated. We had a good laugh.
There was one more gravel section to the climb and then we
turned onto another gated road. This is where trail skirts
around Richmond Peak with washed out sections and plenty of
logs, rocks, and other obstacles. After a short climb on
this road, the descent began, and it was a screamer. I
stopped and strapped the video camera to my BOB again and got
some good footage. After loosing nearly all of the
altitude that we had gained earlier in the day, we were once
again on gravel and finished the day going two miles off the
trail into Seely Lake to another campground. Seely Lake is
a small little tourist town, we stopped at a hamburger joint to
eat dinner and honestly were not at all impressed with the
people there. The local kids were throwing firecrackers at
each other just a few feet from our table - it's not worth going
off the trail here unless you need supplies.
Today's
ride was relatively flat. We went through the even smaller
town of Ovando and got a kick out of the welcome sign -
"Population: about 50, Dogs: over 100." We pushed on
through more flat farmland and began climbing again when we got
close to Helena National Forest. We again finished the day
with a mile or two off the trail to Big Nelson Camp on Coopers
Lake. There was only one other group camping there - 3
guys that were building a huge log cabin complete with a tennis
court bordering the campground. They had a bunch of fire
wood which they shared with us and even invited us down for some
dinner. We ate corn on the cob and hamburgers cooked on
the fire. Mmmm-mmm, good.
The
elevation profile on the map showed an extremely steep climb to
Huckleberry Pass, but lucky for us the profile is quite
exaggerated here. Right near the summit, we met a pair of
GDMBR rider's that were going south to north, so we stopped to
chat with them for a while. It was great to exchange tips
and experiences about what was to come. They were pretty
excited to see 4 BOBs all together, so they took a picture of
us. We cruised down the back side of the pass and after a
few smaller climbs and descents turned onto Highway 200.
With the pavement came a ferocious headwind, but we soon arrived
in Lincoln and camped in the city park at the east end of town.
We also had some deer visitors in and around the campsite.
There were only a couple other groups camping, so once again we
had most of the campground to ourselves. We ate dinner in
“town” and loaded up on supplies to get us through the next two
days until Helena.
right
before we left the main road and crossed a concrete bridge and
headed up alongside Poorman’s Creek. During the first
couple of miles there were four or five creek crossings and lots
of puddles and mud. Braedon had stopped at a large one to
wait and see how the rest of us went around. Scott came up
behind him and tried to just plow through. He made it a
little over half-way before the mud got too deep and he sunk,
stepping off the bike into shin-deep muddy water. It
turned out to be a good thing though. I hollered at him to
wait so I could get the camera out and we all started laughing.
I also got some good pictures. 
from
the mining days. Some may have been kept up longer by
hunters, but some were basically a pile of old logs. We
stopped and poked around for a few minutes in one that was home
to several large rats. After crossing the divide, we
dropped down Marsh Creek canyon and then headed towards Little
Prickly Pear Creek. We followed the book’s suggestion to
head off route on FR 774 to Deadman Creek campsite. I
don’t think we ever found it really, after a while we decided to
just plop down under some large trees along a creek. There
were a lot of cattle in the area, so after poop patrol we set up
tents and Dad got out his fishing gear for the first time and
landed a monster five inch trout. 
Awakened
by cows, we packed up and headed back down FR 774 to rejoin the
route. A nice climb ensued alongside Empire Creek.
Here we passed the remnants of a huge mining operation. We
explored some more and collected several old, rusty, square
nails. Dad was looking at rocks and had that “gold-fever”
look in his eyes. The structures that remained were mostly
just huge rock foundations (3-4 stories high) and it was evident
that fires had destroyed the majority of the wood structure.
During the rest of today’s ride we crossed the C.D. twice, the
second one being Priest Pass which led to a WONDERFUL downhill
almost all the way into Helena. We pulled up to a gas
station right on the outskirts of town and after ice cream
sandwiches, we found a small hotel for the night.
We
found out where a chapel was here in Helena and were able to
attend Church this morning. We only stayed for Sacrament
meeting. The talks were a little different – a couple
spoke that had ten kids and had adopted several more.
Actually the wife spoke and didn’t really leave any time for her
husband. She seemed to be quite controlling
and it was obvious who wore the pants in that relationship.
Regardless, it was extremely nice to attend and partake. 
was two-track climbing and descending through arid pine forests.
There was actually quite a bit of technical riding through here
which was a nice change of pace from the gravel forest roads.
At one incredible steep and rocky section I parked the bike to
get the video camera out and film everyone else attempt the
descent. Everyone had to bail at some point, I’m still
amazed at how Dad stayed on his feet. As I went back to
get my bike, I heard a hissing sound and thought that I had
punctured a tire. It was coming from the rear, so I bent
down to be able to hear better and lifted the bike up only to
get a small blast of pepper spray. With all the bouncing
over roots and rocks, the contents of my BOB bag shifted just
enough so that the hook on the bungee cord puncture the can of
Bear Spray that I had in the bottom. It must have poked
through when I parked the bike. I immediately dropped the
bike and ran back into the trees, waiting until I couldn’t hear
the hissing sound. That stuff was potent. (Even
typing this entry two years later I can almost feel the burning
in my
nose).
I proceeded to unload everything in my bag. Luckily most
of it was individually wrapped in plastic zip-loc bags. I
had a little mesh ditty bag with spare inner tubes that was
completely soaked, so I loaded them into a separate plastic bag.
I did the same with the now empty $40 can of Bear Spray. I
did my best to clean out my BOB bag with what I had, but I
couldn’t get it all and spent time over the next few nights
scrubbing. My hands, nose, and throat burned for days.
After
more shopping and a stop at the Sportsman Bike Shop where we all
bought some additional water bottles and I bought new gloves
(the old ones were a lost cause because of the Bear Spray) we
headed out of Butte at about 1:00 pm. We did a lot of climbing
today and definitely should have gotten an earlier start. We
crossed the CD for the 5th time at an unsigned
junction. The map says the elevation is about 7,500 feet and
then the trail leveled out for a few more miles. Here we had
some spectacular views of the Pioneer Mountains – lots of reds
and browns – and we met an old cowboy checking gates on his
4-wheeler with his dog riding on the back rack. We stopped and
chatted with him for quite a while, his Mom had homesteaded this
area back in the thirties and he had been a cowboy his entire
life. He even rode bulls for a while. We continued on and came
to a screaming downhill all the way back down to I-15 at about
5,700 ft. As soon as we crossed under the interstate, it was
back up into the
mountains. We finally made it to the intended campsite at about
10:30 pm only to find out that it was closed because the Forest
Service was spraying for pine beetles. So we went to a nice
open spot in the trees on the other side of the road and set up
camp. Here were more of the huge granite boulders along a small
creek. Once again, no trouble whatsoever falling asleep. 
Today’s
ride took us up Mt. Fleecer and the descent down the backside
has gone down in infamy in many Great Divide riders’ journals.
It was absolutely insane. The mountain itself was
incredibly steep, hard to even walk up. But the trail went
straight down and was completely washed out with big, loose,
jagged rocks filling the wheel ruts. The only way we could
make it down was to make our own trail switch-backing through
the sage brush, actually trying to hit them to keep the speed
down. I think I fell four or five times on the way down,
nothing terribly serious, but scary nonetheless. The worst
part was trying to change direction on each switch-back.
Turning the bike made the BOB roll up and over the rear tire and
would send you tumbling. Dad’s method was to hold the
saddle in his armpit, both hands clamped on the brakes, and both
heals dug into the ground – and he would still slide. I
even managed to loose one of the new water bottles that I had
just bought.
We
rode into Wise River after the nightmarish descent and bought
some needed supplies at the mercantile, then ate lunch at the H
& J Café. The burgers were absolutely huge – literally a
softball size chunk of ground beef before cooking and they were
great. Dad got a salad instead of fries and said it was
the best salad he’s ever had. We figured that Wise River
must only be about 15 or 20 miles from I-15, so the next time we
take the northern route between Washington and Utah we are going
to swing in for a meal. The burger itself constituted
lunch and dinner and I still feel full. Luckily the rest
of the trail followed a Scenic Byway – nice grade and paved – so
we made good time on the last 20 miles to Little Joe Campground.
Tomorrow we are headed to Elkhorn Hot Springs, only a few more
days in Montana.
Maybe
were not quite as close to Idaho as I thought… We cruised
the first dozen miles to Elkhorn Hot Springs, climbed off the
route to get to the springs, only to find it closed during the
day. Grrr. We didn’t really feel like hanging around
until evening, so we turned back around and continued on towards
Bannack. We were excited to get to Polaris because they
had a post office, but that too was closed, so we continued on.
Just a few miles later we were back on pavement on State Highway
278 where we joined the Trans America Bicycle Trail. We
actually met a TransAm rider there, a 60 year old guy from back
east who was riding 60 miles a day, 6 days a week and had his
wife
following in a small motor home. When we first heard 60
miles a day, we were amazed. He was pretty proud of his
accomplishment too. That seemed like a huge distance to
cover each day, but as we slowly became more experienced riders,
we realized that on a road bike you could easily do 60 miles in
less than four hours. Add to that the fact that he wasn’t
hauling any gear whatsoever and also the fact that Dad was four
years older and his accomplishment lost its luster. Still
cool that he’s doing it, but not really that impressive. 
From
Bannack State Park, we were racing a big thunderstorm all the
way up Sheep Creek Divide. The trail followed part of the
Lewis and Clark historic trail and the old Bannock Rd that goes
all the way to Corrine, Utah where they used to get supplies
(which is why the freighters were the ones making money).
The road is now a Backcountry Byway on BLM land. We passed
a couple small ranches, and a large obviously successful, dude
ranch on the way. A quick rain dump during lunch kept us
on our toes but the sun came out again and dried us out rather
quickly. We made it to the recommended campsite fairly early and
decided to just keep going and see how far we could get.
Luckily the storm was somewhat contained by the divide and we
only got a few sprinkles as we screamed down the backside.
We kept rolling until we met up with Big Sheep Creek and
followed that down a beautiful canyon. I saw a black bear
in the road coming around one turn. He was pretty startled
by me and just bolted. A few more wealthy home sites were
further down and eventually we popped out back in the valley.
A few more miles on the frontage road next to I-15 and we were
in Lima, MT after dark at 10:15 pm. We left Bannack at
9:20 am so 13 hours of travel time and Dad’s computer said 9
hours of seat time. We were absolutely exhausted and tried
to find the campsite in the “city” park, but there were a bunch
of No Camping signs, so we rode back to a gas station where a
policeman was and asked him about camping. There really
weren’t many options, so we went to a little hotel right off the
freeway. We worked it out so we could camp in the back the
first night and then check into a room early the next morning
for a well earned rest day.
We
camped at the Upper Lake Campground in Red Rock Lakes National
Wildlife Refuge right on the shore of the Upper Lake.
There was even a small piped spring to replenish our water
supplies. Dinner was mac and cheese (using the butter
packets) with chili and it was good. We met another couple
who are north-bounders on the GDMBR. Scott and Paula are
from Tucson, AZ. It was great talking to them and swapping
stories about future sections of the trail. Scott is
working on his PhD in Computer Science and helped to write a
program called 
actually arrived on the west side of the Divide. We were
quite excited to be entering a new state so we took an abundance
of pictures with the Red Rock Pass sign in the background.
The ride down the other side went alongside beautiful Henry’s
Lake and then entered the Targhee National Forest where we
followed some fun dirt trails (snowmobile trails during the
winter) down into the town of Island Park and had a wonderful
lunch at Subway. From Scott and Paula’s suggestions, we
decided to skip the books suggestion of camping at Big Springs
so we wouldn’t hit the first (and worst) section of the Rail
Trail. They said it was just horrible wash board. So
we dropped down the highway about a mile and then followed some
other old road and made it back to the rail trail at the
beginning of the long straight part. We rode a couple of
miles until about 5:30 pm and it started to drizzle a bit with
dark, dark clouds coming in. The trail here is elevated a
bit, so we dropped off the trail a few yards, found some
relatively level spots for the tents and pitched camp.
Just before we got the rain fly on, it started dumping –
everything was nice and wet by the time we laid down.
Luckily the foot-long Subway sandwiches we had for lunch held us
over so we just went to sleep. 
the
part where it was closed to motor vehicles. Even though we
skipped the worst part yesterday, we still got our share today
of 4-wheeler groups flying by. As we rode closer to the
Warm River, the trail got better and better with absolutely
stunning views. We went through a couple old wooden
tunnels and watched several fishermen down below on the banks of
the river. Just gorgeous. Warm River Campground is
the suggested stopping point for the night. We arrived in
time for lunch, so we decided to eat, relax a bit, and then push
on. Wyoming is just a few more hours. However,
Mother Nature had other plans. We were riding up the
canyon above the Warm River and a huge front moved in – the wind
was absolutely ripping. We turned around and flew back
down to the campground where we immediately set up tents.
We had already started cooking dinner when the storm hit so
luckily we were able to wait it out inside the tents.
About a half-hour later the hail and rain had stopped and we
climbed out and found almost two inches of water in Scott’s bowl
on the picnic table. It was a bit discouraging that we
didn’t ride farther today, but I’m sure glad that we didn’t try
and keep riding through that thunder storm.