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Daily Journal - June 26th - June 29th
| Friday, June 26th, 1998 - Day 12 | |
Make it out by 7am despite sleeping in. We start a 10-mile climb to 6300 foot elevation over MacDonald pass. Within a few miles heavy flakes start to blow. We have heavy tail and side winds that ease the climb. The altitude has affected me less than I had expected. Gearing down and breathing deeply seems to do the trick. The cold riding reminds me of commuting by bike in Chicago in grad school. But a wet driving rain at 35 degrees in many ways is worse than 10-degree weather. It is too warm to completely bundle up - you'd sweat to death - but the cold rain penetrates even the best Gore-Tex clothing. Cathy rides ahead of me up the pass. A friend we had met at Day zero suffers an asthma attack triggered by the altitude and cold. Many years ago Keith Logan gave us an emergency blanket we have carried on every biking trip and camping trip. It was great to finally be able to use it. Our friend is quickly picked up by a support van. At tbe top of the summit the snow is blowing sideways, and sticking on the road. As we pull up to pit stop 1, we are told the ride is shutdown - and to gather under the lean-to until we are picked up by a bus that has been called. The winds are gusting at 50 mph. Forty of us huddle under the tent singing Jingle Bells, Hokey Pokey, Gilligans Island and whatever crazy songs come to mind. I lead everyone in aerobics. Everyone is wet and cold from the ride up. We watch as many riders blow past the crew staff trying to stop everyone. Later we learn that many have trouble on the 6-mile descent - frozen hands, icy brakes, and snow blowing up their glasses. The ride leaders made a hard call. Risk the discomfort and possible hypothermia of waiting at the top, or run the risk of a major accident or fatality by letting everyone run the downhill. An hour and a half later the bus arrives, and we are carted off down the pass. Little do we know that the local community has taken our situation quite seriously - and enacted their emergency plan. We are brought to the local library in Townsend, which is closed, and given blankets. There are awaiting ambulances and medical staff to handle anyone who is seriously hypothermic. All of the Townsend emergency volunteers seem ecstatic to actually see their plan in action. All I want is to get dry and find some food for lunch. Cathy finds a bean-bag and crashes. We are amazed at how cold we really are once we have a chance to begin to warm up. I am the hunter-gatherer and walk downtown for sandwiches and soup for the 2 of us. The waitresses in the "Creamery" seem truly shocked by my biking getup. Later we are "released" and taken by van to the campgrounds - the local fairgrounds. A local Women's Club is selling baked goods and Philly sandwiches. There is much abuzz about the ride as everyone has a different story - those who made it down the pass, those who were taken from pit 2 to a local burger king, those who were taken to a fire station. It seems the conditions on the pass were quiet different depending on when you arrived. Those who arrived early avoided the snow altogether. That evening, I slice my foot on the pit toilet door nicking a vein. I wait outside the medical tent waiting for some attention until someone notices my Nike sandal is filled with blood. That seemed to get everyone's attention. I am treated by a volunteer gynecologist. Luckily the cut isn't deep and doesn't require stitches. Several other rider doctors have been called in to help with the hypothermia cases including Stephanie. Several riders are bad enough to not to know who they are. Five people are hospitalized. Some are sent ahead to Billings to get enough rest to continue riding. First attempt at setting up tent in high winds. Not as easy as one might think. The winds calm down by sunset. Eat dinner in Fairgrounds exhibit hall. I can image the cows and pigs in our place during the Townsend annual fair. The next day we discover that the rescue off the summit has hit the AP service, and is covered in a front-page story by the Helena paper. | |
| Saturday, June 27th, 1998 - Day 13 | |
Fourth day in Montana. This is a great state - much friendlier that Idaho. People often sit in their front yard and cheer us on. Today is another century day. Finding our bikes isn't easy - as 600 bikes were sagged from yesterday's pass "disaster". A linear search is required. Start with a cold, wet 3-mile gentle climb. Cathy's wheel still has a wobble which appears to be worsening. We begin a 10-mile climb to our fourth pass over the Big Belt mountains through the Helena National Forest. It is lush and wet - much like the Cascades in winter. The climb is easy. The summit is an open alpine meadowland - with rolling hills crossing the top for a few miles, then dropping down the opposite side. We are reminded of the stark hills in Ireland we biked last Fall. We enjoy some hot chocolate at pit 1 summit stop, put on our warmest clothes in the pit toilets. Some people are hanging out in the pit toilets to warm up. Later we find out over 100 people are sagged from pit 1. We decide to move on quickly to avoid cooling off after the climb. The descent is near perfect biking if you could ignore the cold. Huge wide open drops that last for miles, and no traffic. I easily reach 48 mph and sustain it for miles. You can determine the speed of the tailwind easily - when the headwind and tailwind cancel out you are left in this eerie windless zone. You can hear so much more than usual. On these downhills you learn to really trust your bike. Any part failure could be disastrous. Any sound you hear causes anxiety - even a flapping flap on your panniers. Your adrenaline is peaked, you are totally aware of the road ahead seeking out any pebbles or debris that could cause a fall. The side winds are monstrous when you go around a curve - forcing you to lean with all your weight. My helmet is blown off the top of my head and hangs by the strap on the side. A couple of bikers are toppled by the winds, but are fine. We turn against the winds, and struggle to reach pit 2 down in the valley. Cathy works with a bike mechanic to have her wheel trued again. This time it looks great. We turn with the wind once again, and spend the afternoon in Disney-like fantasy biking. Tail winds of 40 mph and rolling hills through beautiful Mennonite farming country continue all afternoon. Even without pedaling you can sustain 20mph. The winds are strong enough to push me from a standstill up a 3% incline. This is cattle country with fields of hay, canola, and wheat. The electric and phone wires resonate in the wind producing a distant-jet-sound. We stop for dozens of pictures, as storms are blowing past all around us. Pit 3 is located behind a huge hay stack that blocks the wind. Everyone is ecstatic from the riding. A group of dedicated riders are finishing up a 150 mile day, as they took a bus to the top of MacDonald pass and started their ride where they were sagged. We end our day in Harlowton at a county fairground. The town appears glad we are there - we are greeted by the Women's Club. Setting up the tents in 40mph winds is difficult. Several tents loosen from their stakes and fly like dangerous kites through the camp. Our friend Rob has been talking with rider leaders about improving the spirit of the evening announcements. Tonight a town meeting format is used, giving the riders a chance to ask questions. We miss it as we have fallen asleep in our tent, but hear later than most believe it is an improvement in communication. | |
| Sunday, June 28th, 1998 - Day 14 | |
We hibernate in our bags tonight. The winds die down overnight, but the clear air leads to a low of 34 degrees. Hard to get jumpstarted this morning. But we get out of camp by 6:45am. The morning is cold but with great 20mph tailwinds all morning. We stop at a phone booth and make reservations at the Billings Sheraton for the next 2 days. Pit 1 is at a small Montana country school - K though 12 all in one building, with a barn serving as the gym. We are flying. We reach pit 2 and lunch by 10:00 47 miles down the road. The local community opens up their doors to us on a Sunday - including the post office where we pick up stamps. The local sheriff is stopping all oncoming traffic to warn them that we are on the road, and to drive carefully. Montana has no daytime speed limit for cars. It is an experience to have a car pass you within 5 feet going over 100mph - creating a nice artificial tailwind. Funny that there are no tickets for speeding cars, but several bikers are given $50 tickets for riding 2 abreast. This is a state that loves cars. Soon after we turn south towards Billings and our friendly tailwinds turn to a sidewind. Several miles up the road we come down a long descent and see flashing lights ahead. We are ushered past a caravan of emergency vehicles where fellow bikers are down on the road being treated. We find out at later that a mechanical failure downed a group of bikers, but that everyone is being treated for only minor injuries. The afternoon ride into Billings turns hot and boring as we approach Billings. Traffic increases. The sidewind forces us to maintain a constant pressure on our bike handles. Cath's back and shoulders start to hurt. It is a tedious 30 mile run with long gentle climbs, but we ride on knowing we are sleeping in a real bed tonight with real flush toilets. We approach Billings on a several hundred foot ridge above the city with great views looking down as we descend. We talk to a biker with an altimeter - it seems we have climbed at total of 30,000 feet in altitude since we left Seattle. We arrive in camp several miles north of town, sort our luggage, and take a taxi to the Sheridan downtown. The front desk seems a bit surprised by our luggage - a huge canvas bag overflowing with dirty laundry. We are tired and windburned. Upstairs we veg out with CNN and try to reconstruct several days of news from 15-second snippets. Real shower and real air-conditioning. We go upstairs to the top floor restaurant - but after waiting 30 minutes for someone to take our order, we move down the street to the Montana Brew Pub which has also been discovered by another 100 riders. Great local brew and food. We crash smiling in a real bed. | |
| Monday, June 29th, 1998 - Day 15 | |
Sleep in. Pull together and select digital pictures for the last several days. Walk a few blocks to an expresso/bakery shop and actually sit down to read the local paper. What a luxury. Off to run errands. Meet up with Dave at the local grocery store - Butterys. Pick up more freezer bags to keep everything dry, and sundry items. We walk 12 blocks looking for an MIA bike shop to buy spare tires. Back to the hotel to repack and veg some more. Found a nice restaurant for dinner tonight - Walker's grill. We cross into Wyoming in 2 days, then to South Dakota. Worried about the heat - pick up some 45 spf suntan lotion in hopes it does a better job that our 30 spf. | |
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