I awoke in Stanley, Idaho to the friendliest unrelated family. This one guy, who looked like he should have played bass for Slightly Stoopid, drove me all over town to find a tube that would fit my tire. I got a couple, I was even able to true my rear wheel, which probably should just be replaced. The papa bear of the house was Bill Wooly, short for wooly mammoth. He was the biggest, nuttiest conservative pothead rancher I'd ever met.He brought up politics, and we had a friendly conversation about politics. Prior to this trip I always thought politics and religion were topics for arguing rather than discussing, but I've developed an ability to have these conversations where everyone leaves with a smile, having learned something more.
I set off to ride. It was a beautiful day, the wind was at my back, and the hills rolled down most of the time. I didn't leave until 1 PM, but i covered well over a hundred miles by nightfall, where I stopped in Salmon, Idaho. I stopped in a bar with a surly bike outside the door. I walked in, got a pint for a dollar, and asked to see the menu. I happened to be drinking on a Wednesday night with a wildfire rescue team and trying to keep up. This was a different breed of badass, these guys jump out of choppers into wildfires then dig trenches to contain the flames. They bought me beer, sake bombs, you name it. I let myself get drunk because this one guy said he'd let me crash. However, he got too wasted and left, so I was just gonna be a drunk bum in the park. One of the crew members was a friend of Levi Leipheimer, my favorite cyclist. These were cool guys. I passed out on a park bench for about two hours, then the cold woke me. I waited for a coffee shop to open, got some coffee and food, then rode north. 20 miles later i pulled into a cafe. I got more food and passed out for about an hour and a half. I was still drunk, I shouldn't be riding. I found a closed cafe with a rocking chair out front. I slept in the rocking chair and the floor until 2 pm. now i felt well rested and ready to go, but it was already 2. I rode well over a hundred miles anyway. I crossed the 45th parallel and kept riding to missoula. i got to the top of the continental divide and met some hikers and bike tourists. one guy gave me a continental schwable, arguable the best touring tire there is, and the riding was smooth sailing after that. i covered bumpy road construction at night, slowing my progress and hurting my wrists. it was about 150 miles to missoula, i got there at 3 am and found a model storage shed outside a k mart. it was unlocked, so i moved in for the night. it began to rain, but i had shelter. however, it still got cold. as usual the temperature dropped 15 degrees in the early morning, but when it rains the air gets even wetter, making me shiver like a rabbit. so i got up and rode. two blocks later i found a denny's. as a rule, if i see a denny's i stop in and get the 4 dollar endless pancake breakfast and try to beat the record. however, in utah i made myself so sick on 7 plates, or 15 pancakes, that i was dry heaving while riding. so i just got a more well balanced, but still huge amount of food breakfast. I rode across the bridge into the hippie part of town. I got coffee and read the book that guy gave me in salt lake city. i got through a little bit of it, im a super slow reader. bait and switch by barbara ehrenreich. after writing nickel and dimed she made herself poor again, but this time as an unemployed white collar type with a degree. reading helps me sleep, i passed out at the table.
i got up, went to the library to check email, then roamed the town. this town had a similar vibe to ithaca, i really liked it. i wandered into the headquarters of adventure cycling, a world bike touring company. i met so many other bike tourists there and the staff gave us all free ice cream. i met this group riding from baltimore to portland to raise awareness and money for cancer, and taught them how to pee while riding. the stance is different for men and women, but the fundamentals are the same.
i tuned my bike and washed it in a stand, did laundry, re-met the cancer crew, and went back to that coffee shop. i started reading again, then i asked these two random people if there was some good live music tonight. they were justin and sarah and they were stoked to meet me. two hours later justin called me and said if i rode to big sky brewery near the airport he'd sneak me into the decemberists. it worked like a charm. he gave me a wrist band, i posed as an ice cream truck employee. we boozed it up and gave away ice cream and met awesome new people. i did food trades with other vendors for ice cream. we got steak, pizza, wine, it was awesome. montanans in general are pretty amazing. typhoon opened for the decemberists. they were great, but the decemberists were unreal. i've never seen a field crowd jump around so enthusiasticly. during the encore the frontman and guitarist had a solo battle where they purposely played shitty hilarious. then the frontman gave his guitar away to a random stranger, pulled him up onstage so he could take a break and crowdsurf. so then the guitarist found a random girl who couldnt play guitar and the upright bassist found a random guy to take his place while they all crowdsurfed. the girl couldnt play guitar at all, but the guys could play bass and guitar pretty good. the girl evenutally jus put a finger on a string and strummed the whol thing at an even pace, and the rest of the new band played off it. they were awesome, it flowed well and it was intense. so then the frontman did a jon boener impression and started playing chimney sweep. in the middle of the song his band ordered us to all sit down. when the band stood back up the song climaxed and so did we. like i said, we were jumping around like it was a 50 person venue back in ithaca. it helped that i was shit faced, it also helped that justin and hannah, the real ice cream truckers, did a well choreographed dance where they popped it and locked it, the electric slid it, and they even jumped their legs through the hoop like it was the 90's. the show ended after two encores, so we hooked up an ipod to the ice cream truck speakers and blasted the ice cream truck home. we barhopped and went to some house parties, and hannah basically convinced me to go to burning man and live in LA with her later in the year. this is the fourth person who wants me to move to an awesome place with them. right now i could go to hawaii, jerusalem, or LA. why not go everywhere? i got to crash in a bed, that was awesome. i woke up well rested, hung over as hell, and one of the other roomates desperately wanted to give me a free massage because she was fascinated by my hamstrings. so i went to a couple farmers markets, met some bands and mountain bikers, bought some exotic vegetables never costing more than a dollar, and got a henna tattoo of a fleur de lis. i even bumped into the same bikers who gave me a free tire. the bike touring community is an amazing group of people, probably the only bikers in the world who are never snobs and don't spend 10 grand on a bike so they can be faster than everybody else, then claim "oh it's not the bike, its the rider." when i ask why they dont race on cheap bikes, the answer is always that they're heavy and slow. can anyone else detect the unfairness wealth brings to the bike racing world? so i returned to the house and got a free massage, free food, free ganja, and the daily show. i finally left around 10 pm, then it got real windy north to south, slowing my progress.
i rode through the flathead indian reservation where i met some really awesome people hanging out outside of a closed bar. they got me drunk and stoned, just like the missoulans did, and then i crashed until 8 am in a comfy chair. 8 am i rode north. I rode the easiest hundred miles of my life because i was used to being 6000 feet higher than these 3000 foot "mountains." i got to glacier national park. i rode through this beautiful park, accidentally hopped on a bus that took me 16 miles closer to going to the sun road, and on the bus i met a really cool person who eventually gave me twenty bucks for no apparent reason, which happens a lot. i guess i inspire people.
so i started climbing the continental divide. the climbing was way easier than independence pass, even though it was steeper and probably longer. the reason was thickness of the air. for the first time since kansas i was sweating and my skin was moist, i was just used to doing ultra endurance biking in high altitudes. my lungs and legs are just strong as fuck. near the top this group of youngsters cheered for me then yelled if i wanted a snack, so i turned right around. they gave me doritos and kept me around to hear my stories. they were awesome, and daniel said i could crash in his cafe. i summited the divide, 6600 feet, about half of independence pass, and rode down it to st mary, montana. it was already dark, and i almost ran over a mountain goat. his horns looked like little nicky's dad. sore and tired as hell, i finally got to the park cafe and daniel gave me his bed for the night. i slept from 1130 to 8, it was great. i showered, changed, then went to the cafe for free breakfast. the guy sitting next to me was pretty cool, we smoked in the parking lot and talked about random adventures we've had. i haven't smoked all trip since central pennsylvania, now it was three times in two days. how do i ride over a hundred miles a day like that? whatever, i just do it.
i rode north and crossed the canadian border. i am in cardston, alberta sitting next to another traveller. a beautiful french girl who has been backpacking and hitchhiking all over the USA and is on her way to Alaska. travelers are pretty cool people.
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