Tour Divide Day 9

Tour Divide Day 9- Post Pinedale to Rawlins, ~220 miles

I woke up this morning freezing my ghetto bootie off. After I unzipped my bivy I looked down and realized why I was so cold. There was so much frost on my bivy that it froze to my sleeping bag. There was also frost lining almost the entire interior of my bivy. It was a pretty cold and miserable all night but for some reason I was undeterred. I just packed up my stuff and got riding, it was the only way to stop the incessant shivering.

I knew Atlantic city was about 70-80 miles away and I hoped to hit it by 11 am or so, have a big lunch, resupply, and dominate the Basin. That way I could hit Rawlins midday the next day and resupply. I would later realize that the next day was a Sunday.... a day on which all post offices are closed!

The road left pavement about five miles after I started riding. I really wish I would have realized this the night before. I could have had a way better sleeping spot!!

The terrain was really pretty and rolling.

It's hard to get an idea from this picture but the terrain is rolling. Although the elevation gains were small, the total elevation gains were relatively high due to the repeated short steep climbs. 

Self portrait. My sunglasses are sitting low on my nose because the nosepiece broke off about day 3. I would ride like this until the end. I had quite the scab on the bridge of my nose.

Recanting the squirrel gang fight story from the previous night. 

Eventually I made it to Atlantic City (after a short stop at the town three miles before). I ate a ton at the local bar. I was really glad it was open. I had no idea if it would be or not. I got the last of the ice cream too. I kinda felt bad for the guys behind me but only for a few seconds!

A sign outside of the Atlantic City bar

Then it was off into the Basin. I took a ton of food and seven liters of water. Wayyyyy too much. I ended up dumping some water about ten miles into the Basin. I realized I was moving pretty fast and the water was just slowing me down. My balance between victual/water weight and speed was compromised so I dumped some to help me move a bit faster.

Shooting a quick video as I hike a super steep hill leaving Atlantic City

There really isn't much to say about the Basin. It is kinda flat, kinda rolling, really windy, and boring as hell. I made it through the dirt road of the Basin just as it was getting dark. It was a mentally challenging section, nothing to do but worry that I was going to starve or die of dehydration, but physically it was pretty easy.

Nightly update as I cruise the 30-40 miles towards Basin. (Sorry there isn't much to see!)

I had my first northbounder encounter on the way towards Rawlins. I think it was Paul, he was the leader and by quite a margin. He was really nice and it was nice to see my first racer since Wise River. We had a short chat and then we parted ways. The last stretch into Rawlins was mentally challenging. I just really wanted off the bike and I ended up riding ten miles further than I thought I needed to. Makes me cringe just thinking about it.

I eventually ended up in Rawlins. I found a hotel. Ordered food to go from the diner and ate like a horse in my room as I fell asleep sitting up in bed. I actually woke up several hours later still sitting up.

Tour Divide Day 8

Tour Divide Day 8-Tetonia to Somewhere about 30 miles past Pinedale, ~140 miles

This would prove to be a tough morning. I again had a metal picture of the elevation that I would face on this section of reroute but I was way off.... waaaaaaayyyyyyyy off... just way, way..... way off.

I was up about an hour later than usual, 5:45, because I wanted to give my body a chance to rest. There was a breakfast included with the room I stayed in which basically consisted of a continental type breakfast of home cooked food! I ate like crazy since I was still hungry from not eating the night before. My favorite was the home made cinnamon rolls! I wrapped up two of those bad boys to go and put them in my jersey pocket.

The road leading out of Tetonia was paved and a really nice change of pace compared to the rail trail snow storm of the previous night. I passed through Driggs and headed towards Jackson, my goal for an early lunch. My timeline was based upon my belief that it was FLAT going into Jackson. (What is with me and being off about all the reroute elevations?) After Driggs I left Idaho, which meant I had now checked Canada and two states off my list.

A Wyoming State Trooper waiting behind a parked vehicle, nabbing speeders RIGHT AT THE BORDER. 

Just after crossing into Wyoming the road started going upward very steeply. I started climbing and quickly I was spinning in granny gear while begging for air. I rounded a corner and saw a mountain of a pass looming in front of me which was accompanied by a sign that said, "Very steep  roadway for next five miles." 

I ground and ground and ground on the cranks. With each foot of elevation gain the air got thinner and thinner. It didn't help that I couldn't stop watching each hundredth of a mile tick by on my GPS. I wish I still had the GPS track so I could whine to you about the exact elevation gain but suffice it to say that I climbed about 2000 feet in 4 miles of roadway and I never got out of granny gear. As I topped out the pass I was super excited to bomb the roadway down to Jackson. I was getting hungry!

I started flying down the road and a quick glance showed that I was way off the GPS marker. I stopped and looked where the GPS line was but all I saw was a huge cliff going down the ravine that was covered in several meters of snow. I was confused by this and after some thought I remembered something about a bike path before Jackson. A quick review of my map cues showed that there was indeed a bike path starting at the top of the pass. 

I turned around and rode about a mile BACK UP to the top of the pass. When I arrived I was even more confused. The line that my GPS showed basically just went off down the side of the ravine. There was no path. I stopped to talk to some roadies that were out and they said. "Yeah, there is a bike path. It's under that fifteen feet of snow that slopes at 45 degrees down the side of the cliff." I explained that was where I was going and they told me it was closed. I explained that I had to because of the race rules. One rider responded, "If you're going down there for a bike race across the country because you 'have to', you're f^cking crazy and you're going to die." I responded, "You got me pegged. See ya!"

I took off walking aimlessly through snow that was more than knee deep, dragging my bike along. I had no idea where the trial was so I just followed the line on my GPS for a mile or so until I came to a place where it looked like there was a trail carved in the side of the ravine. Another mile of snow hiking brought me low enough that there was a low snow pack and the paved bike path revealed itself. While I was able to ride, there were still several fallen trees and snow berms that I needed to traverse. 

I finally got to a rideable path and I was at long last reaping some free speed from all that climbing I did. Alas, it didn't last for long. The rear of my bike began weave and I realized I was getting a flat. Of course!!!!!

I couldn't find a leak for the life of me and eventually I realized that the nozzle wasn't closed all the way on the tubeless valve. (How the hell did that come open?) I aired up the tire again and started riding only to realize the tire was too flat still. I stopped again and aired it up. This time when I took off the nozzle it pulled out the removable core of the valve and the tire went flat. Sigh. I put the core back in and re-inflated the tire AGAIN. This time I got it right and I was able to move on, although I was super frustrated at this point. The only thing more annoying than pumping up a 29" MTB tire with a hand pump is doing it three times in a row.

Once I was in Jackons I ate at McDonalds. While eating I struck up a conversation with a couple that wanted to know why I was eating four burgers, four orders of fries and a stack of apple pies. After 'lunch' I stopped in for food at the local market and then I took off down the route. 

Twenty miles later I was feeling pretty sleepy so I stopped at a gas station and picked up some ice cream and Nodoz (Thanks for the intel Marshal Bird and thanks to Dave G. for reminding me about it!). Those Nodoz would come in handy for much of the rest of the race. Starting at this point I would get really sleepy in the afternoons and each day the sleepy feeling got stronger and stronger. (Several times later in the race I actually woke up to the feeling of my bike bumping up and down because I had fallen asleep in the aerobars and ridden off the road.)

I shot this video post ice cream and Nodoz.

Just after this video the route left the road and followed a trail that was really just a faint line through forest and fields. Then I came across a herd of cows standing on my faintly visible trail. I remembered to get video this time!

John Wayne, eat your heart out.

"Don't look at me like that."

~Me speaking to a cow

Shortly after this I passed another gas station that I stopped at for ice cream. As soon as I walked in the door the attendant said, "The ice cream is right there." Apparently I wasn't the first racer she had helped!

I can't remember for the life of me what the route was like after this but I do remember getting to Pinedale. I stopped in at a pizza place and ordered food. Then I walked over to a gas station and resupplied while I was waiting for food. By time my resupply was packed up my pizza was ready. I ate a bunch and wrapped up a little to go. 

Then it was off and running. I put in another 30ish miles even though it was getting dark by time I was leaving Pinedale. I knew that eventually the route would leave the roadway and I would be able to find some sage. Unfortunately I started to get really cold and all I could think about was sleep. (I was only a few miles away from the dirt when I decided to stop. Had I know that I would have just kept riding.)

After tons of effort looking into the dark trying to find a spot, I saw a little outcropping of trees just big enough to hide me and my bike. I shoved my bike in, cleared a bivy spot, laid out my stuff, got cozy and started eating. 

Here is a video I made just after I got in my bivy. Right towards the end I pause because I hear I really weird sound.....

Then I heard an interesting sound, kinda like a squirrel but it was larger sounding. Then I heard multiple varmints making the noise from different sides around my bivy spot. It sounded like they were talking. I started to get concerned. Was I laying on their nut stash?

Then all of the sudden these four huge @$$ squirrels started charging at my bivy from different directions. As soon as I would kick at one, another would charge towards my head. After a 30 second barrage there was a cease fire. I took the opportunity to get out of Dodge. I left them half a cinnamon roll for their troubles. I hoped it was a peace offering that would heal the hurt between bikepackers and rodent kind. That's a war none of us needs. 

Looking back I still can't believe I got into a gang turf fight with a bunch of squirrels over a bivy spot....

I packed up my stuff and started riding. About two miles down the road I was getting really tired. Like, REALLY TIRED. It was dark and I just couldn't see any spots. I eventually fell asleep on  my bike and crashed into the ditch. I woke up as I was going head first into the grass. 

I just shrugged my shoulder and figured the side of the road was better than the middle of the road. I reached over, unclipped my sleep system, pulled it out of the dry bag and crawled in. I was out before I even knew it. 

(I slept horribly this night. It was really cold and I woke up with tons of frost on my sleeping bag. [My bag was actually frozen to my bivy.] During the night I woke up shivering heavily several times. In retrospect I realized I had lost so much body fat that my sleep system wasn't warm enough, even though I had tested it below freezing at home in Alaska. I remedied this in Steamboat by buying a Smartwool (PhD!) base layer which worked really well.)

Coming up: I make my assault on the Basin......

Tour Divide Day 7

The Rookie Gambit

Day7- Lima to Tetonia, 160ish miles

I hit the ground running at 4:45. Like a bolt of lightning.... no, white lightning..... no, like a bolt of 6'04'' 235 pound pasty white lightning I was out the door. My saddle sores settled down after another 30 minutes of standing and the rolling terrain wasn't so bad.

It rained on and off but I didn't really mind. I just rode in my normal clothing and enjoyed the way that the water washed over my body. I had a few conversations with cows and waved at the passing cowboys (no, that shouldn't be the other way around). I even enjoyed a brief conversation with a British couple that were doing the divide northbound on a tandem, I also plugged them for some intel on other racers. From the sounds of things I was looking comparatively fresh and some of the riders were feeling demoralized. This only served to embolden my legs.

I continued riding and I was stunned to see an actual cattle drive going on in the middle of the road. (How did the British couple fail to mention THAT?) On each side of the road the cattle fences were set back only a few feet, so the entire width of the road including shoulder was about 30 feet. The ranchers that I came across were moving approximately 5,000 cattle down the road. The road was lined with cattle that were standing shoulder to shoulder across the road (from fence to fence) and rear to head for as far as I could see out across the rolling terrain.

I asked one of the ranchers if I could ride through. He said, "Just don't get 'yerself' bit or kicked." Then he gave me a smirk like he was ready to be entertained by a city slicker trying to play cowboy. Efff that dude. I did my best John Wayne impression and started yelling at the cows to get them to move. The seas of feces slowly parted and I made my way through. After a bit I turned to way goodbye to the cowboys and they seemed thoroughly impressed at what the big boy in lycra could do.

Riding through the masses took me about 25-30 minutes and it was a good distraction for the loneliness of the road. I didn't realize this at the time but after Lima I would only see southbound racers two other times on the route. For two weeks solid I raced, rode, hiked, cried, laughed, sweltered, froze, ate, and slept alone.

I shot this video just before reaching the next town. Now that I have watched the video, I remember being REALLY tired. I say that I rode for the first ten hours of the day without stopping. From the looks of my face, I was telling the truth about the time and I must have been riding hard. 

I continued on uneventfully until I reached the town at the highway crossing. I stopped at subway for a sandwich and I resupplied quickly at the convenience store. Then I was off to hit up the infamous ATV/rail trail.

Up until this point I had thought the detours went around this section and I wasn't nearly ready for it. This section is basically 30 miles of deep sand/gravel that undulates over washboard and it is VERY tough riding. I consider my self a fairly good technical rider but the fatigue from a week of riding really sucks the spunkiness out of your technique. I fell 6-8 times on this thirty mile section and I was pretty demoralized.

In this video it was hailing on the trail. I am using my hand to cover the back of my neck because the hail was stinging. Pretty unreal weather day.

Never to fear though, after a few hours I was at the Warm River camp ground and the trail turned to pavement for a nice climb up out of the valley.

This is some footage from the roadway after I finished the climbing out of Warm River CG.

However, the pavement was over too soon and I was dumped onto rail trail. At this point in the day it was getting pretty late and it looked like a significant storm was blowing in off of the mountains.

A picture of the hail-snow-rain-thunder-lightning storm that I rode into. I said it was a gambit didn't I??

I had a choice to make. I could head out of the weather towards Ashton and get a room. Or, I could ride right into the headwinds coming from the storm and try to make it further on the course. I figured I might as well make a good day of it since I had put in so much work to get ahead. I called some hotels near Driggs and found a place that would let me check in on line and leave the room open for me. Then I took off on more rail trail, what ended up being thirty five miles of rail trail.... into a headwind.... that brought a thunder and lightning storm..... that turned to snow and hail..... and took me until 1 am to ride through.

I can't tell you how dramatically exhausting this section was. Even now I get tired thinking about it. I remember trying to see how long I could ride without looking down at the clock and only making it thirty seconds at a time for several hours.

By the time I reached Tetonia I was absolutely exhausted and tired. I could hardly walk. To top it off, there was no food to be found anywhere. At least I had a room. I went to bed clean and warm but incredibly hungry. My one solace was that MTBcast showed my nearest competitors had stopped near Ashton. I guess the Gambit paid off, although I definitely sacrificed a few pawns getting better position.

Tour Divide Day 6

Tour Divide Day 6- Wise River to Lima, ~145 miles

I started the day pretty late from Wise, 6 am. I knew that I needed at least 5 hours of sleep to feel ok in the morning so I gave myself an extra hours in the sack. As I was packing up my bike I spotted the Eurotrain leaving town.

I shot this video as I was riding away from Wise. My saddle sores were really hurting this morning and it was obvious by the fact I spent the first 30 minutes riding out of the saddle. The roadway out of Wise was really smooth, which made the hiney less painful at least.

I shot this as I was riding out of Wise. I look like crap but I swear I don't remember feeling that bad... except for my bootie. 

The nice paved roadway lead towards the large paved pass that Mary Collier rides down in Ride the Divide (I think Mike D says something like, "You guys should get her riding down that pass, it will really lift her spirits"). The pass wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be from the movie. Don't get me wrong, it was steep and killer and oxygen depriving and I rode the whole thing in granny gear and it was all around brutal but it just didn't seem mentally as hard as I expected. Maybe my mind was getting 'fitter' as the race progressed?

The descent into the next town was pretty fun and the movie was spot on about that part. I saw several bikes stopped at the local restaurant/inn, The Grasshopper. I stopped in and grabbed some lunch with Dave G. and the Eurotrain, who regaled that they had been waiting 'forever' for their food. I walked right up to the waiter without hesitation and just ordered what I was hungry for.

As the waiter got my order going I prepped my bike and refilled my water. I asked about the local mercantile and they said it was 'closed on Wednesdays'. I then asked what day it was, because I literally lost track after day 2. And, they answered, "Wednesday". Of course. I didn't want to wait for them to make me another order of food since they were so slow. So, I rounded up some junk food from the associated Grasshopper Inn; two boxes of frosted flakes and three bags of chips.

This had to last me the 90 miles to Lima.

The down side of an efficient resupply, having not enough food AND the food you get isn't even appetizing. The up side, I was out the door with Dave G, who had beat me there by an hour, and I beat the Eurotrain out the door by 30 minutes. 

The road between The Grasshopper and Lima begins as mostly rolling pavement and then it hits a dirt road that is a super long undulating climb. The riding was fun but really unremarkable, just more dirt road cruising. However, from a logistical standpoint I learned a lot.

Leaving The Grass Hopper I took three liters of water, that's one liter per 30 miles. Pretty much a good estimate for me. However, about 30 minutes after I headed out it go hot, like 85 degrees hot. Now that's not saying much but I'm from Alaska and I haven't raced in weather above 75 since Xterra Worlds in 2008.

I became very concerned about the water situation and I basically stopped drinking except for a few sips because I just didn't know if there were going to be other water resupply points. I continued riding without drinking until I hit 40 miles. Then I started to feel really thirsty so I stopped to check my supply. I had only consumed 9 oz of water in 40 miles..... That's only about HALF of a SMALL WATER BOTTLE. WTF?????? (Apparently this race makes you very mentally strong.) At that point I started drinking more and thus I could eat more, although two mini boxes of cereal and three mini bags of chips isn't really a feast.

After I topped out the pass and started riding down I noticed the sun was beginning to fade. A quick watch check told me that it was getting really late. I started to worry that I wouldn't make it to Lima in time to get a room and that also mean NO FOOD. In a panic I started TTing (time trialing) down the pass. Now, I might be a cripple but if there is one thing I learned to do when I raced triathlons it is 'how to drop into the aerobars and ride like an @$$hole'.

As I closed the distance towards Lima I began to really drop the hammer until I was riding the downhill rollers in the big ring. I only had food on my mind. Day dreams of pizza, and burgers, and shakes, and fries, and steak, and eggs, and pancakes, and thai food danced through my head. The fading light made my day dreams even more vivid, I think I could actually see food floating around over my aerobars.

All of the sudden I saw a flash of movement out of the bushes. I wanted to grab for my brakes but there wasn't time. I braced my self for an inevitable collision as the biggest-freaking-lion-I-have-ever-seen-in-my-life ran out across the trail. I thought I actually saw my front wheel hit it but I never fell over. That cat must have had some serious Matrix skills. I still don't understand how I missed hitting it.

In short order I hit the last pavement stretch into Lima so I stopped to call the hotel. I was in luck yet again. They had a room left so I reserved it.

Cruising into Lima, still feeling high on adrenaline post mountain lion near death experience

As I rode into Lima I called my wife, MTBcast, and a few friends. I just wanted to talk I guess. At the hotel the manager told me that the Eurotrain had arrived ten minutes after I called. That means over the 90 miles distance they were only about 20-40 minutes faster than me, not a bad showing for a fat cripple. (I had seen that several bikes were over at the bar, likely their corresponding riders were drinking beer and eating.) He also told me that nothing in town opened until 7 am.

I reasoned that a few beers would make all those riders forget about resupplying for the morning and thus they would have to wait until at least 7 am to get going, not to mention the fact that a sleepy divide racer a few beers makes. I decided to buy up most of the food at the front desk and hope that the others didn't think about logistics until they tried to leave at 6 am. I scrambled off to my room to prep my bike, body, and gear for the morning.

A Tour feast. Those frozen hot pockets are even less awesome tasting when they are half thawed at 8 am the next morning. 

The blog entry for Day 7 will tell us if the Rookie Gambit pays off......

Tour Divide Day5

Day 5- Past Helena to Wise River, 120ish miles (and close to 13,000 feet of climbing!)

Looking back towards the Helena area in the morning

I woke up to the sun rising over the creek near where I was sleeping. I unzipped my bivy sat up and stretched. As I blinked my eyes to ease the adjustment to the light I looked up and saw this beautiful cabin, about 30 feet from me. Somehow in the dark I had inadvertently bivied in somebody's front yard. Whoopsie daisy! I quickly and QUIETLY bagged up my gear and hit the road.

The road up and out of Helena had dried a bit over night so I was actually able to get some traction and ride up that bad boy in the middle ring. I really liked this section of trail. The air was moist with dew, the birds were out singing in full force, and sun was high lighting the beautiful forest flora with sun rays as they filtered through the large trees. It was remote enough to feel like  I was out in the woods but I also passed a cabin every couple of miles... it seemed like a nice place to live I guess.

I descended into another town along the highway (I can't remember the name), rode straight through, and hit another detour. This detour lead out into the hills on a long, long, LONG demoralizing false flat. I began to wonder what the hell was supposed to be so awesome on this trail that it was deserving of a TD reroute.

Then I rounded a corner and saw IT, a 20% grade rising for several thousand feet out of valley floor. It was the kind of trail that was so steep that rocks would roll from under your feet as you hiked it and not stop until they reached the bottom. I then recalled that Rob Leiphheimer, of Butte Outdoorsman fame, had gotten his truck stuck doing recon for one of the reroutes. I could see a huge mud hole halfway up the climb that still told a tale of an epic 4x4 adventure gone awry. (Thanks for doing that Rob!!!)

You'll note it's so steep it looks like my aerobars are pointing up into the sky (that's because they were!)

Here is a video of the climb as well. You can tell just by looking at me that I was pretty pooped.

Near the top of the climb the trail went under some super high powered electrical lines. You could actually hear a loud buzzing sound coming from the lines. I was really glad that I made it under without the lines falling on me....

For perspective on the hugeness of this climb, those power lines that look like they are just a few feet off the trial are actually more like 70-90 feet up in the air. 

After the climb topped out, there was a fun descent through an old mining town. Then the trail followed the river for a while until it came to another small town on the highway (I didn't stop here either so I can't remember the name). Then the trail pulled the ultimate mind trick. It paralleled the interstate, a large smooth PAVED road, for 20 + miles. I spent those 20 miles climbing and descending a rough rocky trail all while being able to SEE the roadway. That's just wrong!

After all the climbing that I had done in the last few days with a 1x9 system, I was getting pretty anxious to get to the Butte Outdoorsman. I just wanted a big ring and a small ring in the worst way...  Finally I hit the highway and descended into Butte. After a little finagling with my phone I was able to locate the bike shop (which is right on route FYI).

The guys at the outdoorsman treated me like a king. They had my bike up in the stand before I even knew what was going on. They looked up the internal routing video instructions on line and got my shifting going. It turns out the XO grip shift had gotten grime in it and the grime was binding the gearing.  A TD fan/blue dot junkie even came in to see me, he wanted to make sure my shifter got fixed ok. I really can't say enough nice things about the Outdoorsman, they were phenomenal, the best, an oasis. Thanks so much guys!

I hit up the grocery store and resupplied. When I came back my stallion was ready. I also saw Dave G. again. Dave was ready to leave about the time I was and we headed out together. 

Dave of course dropped me as soon as the climbing started. I continued up at my best day long sustainable effort (i.e. 50-60%) even though it was hard to watch him ride away. It turns out this was a good move on my part, I ended up catching him at the bottom of the descent. We went up Fleecer together, until the snow hiking began. Then he dropped me. I love being a cripple!

Here is a video from the top of Fleecer. I thought I would be the last one to make it over that night, turns out I was wrong. The Eurotrain made it to Wise River at 2 am. Little punks!

I descended fleecer ridge and actually stayed on the bike for most of it. I could have ridden the whole descent but I started to get worried about wearing out my brake pads/calipers. After walking the last bit of the major descent I jumped on my faithful steed and rode the descent into Wise River. The descent was really cold and it didn't help that the trail was basically a creek that was a foot deep in water. I was seriously daydreaming about warm food. Everything was dark as I rolled into town and I started to fear that I wouldn't be able to find anything that was open.

Thankfully the bar was open! Dave had beat me to the bar by a few minutes and he was eating a club sandwich. The nice lady bar tending made me two sandwiches and I got a beer. She just so happened to run the connected hotel so I snagged a room and hot shower as well!

The bar scene in Wise River. You'll note it's only dudes standing in a circle....

After a shower I was off to bed. That's when I shot this next video. You can tell I'm smoked because I keep falling asleep mid sentence. HILARIOUS.

(P.S. Don't ask what I'm wearing under the blanket.)

I suck at grammar

Yeah, I know, news flash right?!

I was just looking through the last few posts. I really do suck at grammar. Apparently the problem is compounded when I am high post nasal surgery.

I done try to do me sum bettah writtin' of them words from here on out.....




Also, I just over heard this at a coffee shop....

(Guy walks up to a gal who is sitting alone at a table)

Guy: Oh, there you are... I uhhhh.... didn't recognize you... at.... first. I guess uhhhhh, its the.... lighting in here?

Gal: Yeah, those bar lights work wonders.


CLASSIC.

Tour Divide Day 4

Day 4- Holland Lake to Past Helena (~150 miles)

Yeah you guessed it, I was up and moving at 4:45 again. After I was dressed and down in the kitchen I spotted the every present Ben Oney who was mowing on food (This would be the last time I saw Ben although in the end we would only be separated by a few hours in a 20 day race). The wonderful staff from Holland Lake Lodge had left us each a packed lunch and a breakfast tray. I downed as many calories as I could in that precious ten minute window and I hit the road.

This was the first day that my saddle sores started to really bother me. It's kind of hard to explain without being too graphic but for the first 30 minutes of each morning I felt like I was sitting on two large hamburger patties. Of course, eventually the swelling would go down and the pain would subside (thank you anbesol!!) but it didn't make that first hour of the morning anymore appetizing.

The scenery was spectacular, as is expected every morning on the divide. I saw another bear as I was scooting along the trail and getting into the first real climb of the day. This day would prove to be the first real tough day for my back on the divide. The trails were smooth for sure but the constant effort was really getting to me. As the pain continued to grow in my back, the strength began to fade in my leg.

The obstacle course of fallen trees created by the insane spring weather didn't really help anything. When my back is feeling well I can lift maybe 40 pounds (Liz has to carry the big bag of dog food for me), when it is hurting I have trouble with even 20. To get over the piles that were higher than waist level I would actually have to remove my gear from my bike, port my gear over, get my bike over, and then get me over. It wasted a ton of time but I just couldn't pick up my bike when it was loaded with food, water and gear. This unload, port, reload, and ride repeated several times as I climbed into the early morning air.

Then I rounded a bend and saw a pile of trees that was about as tall as I am.... (6'04")

As I came to a large pile of fallen trees, about shoulder high, I became full of a sense of dread. How on earth was I going to get over THAT? The answer to that question turned out to be, "sloooooowwwwwwly". I was able to get my gear over by just tossing the bags. The bike wasn't too bad either, my Carbon Air Niner only weighs 20 pounds so I could pretty much get it up over my head and balanced on the top of the tree pile.

The real challenge came in getting me up over the pile. At times my left leg kinda has a mind of its own, especially when I am having trouble with muscle recruitment. For example, my leg comes unclipped as I pedal when I am having trouble controlling the abductor muscles in my leg. Also, and I learned this on the divide, I have trouble placing it in one place on a pile of trees and holding it in that place while stepping forward with my right leg.

With my left foot steps having a distinct lack of permanency, my attempts at climbing the pile of trees became comical. I must have fallen down into that pile of trees 20 times before I resulted in literally crawling on my hands and knees to get over. Climbing up, correction crawling up, wasn't so bad... crawling down on the other hand ended up more like controlled cart wheeling. Fortunately I landed in my pile of gear, which cushioned the final dismount. After getting up off the ground, getting my bike out of the trees, and remounting my gear, I was headed off down the trail again. Looking down at my watch I realized I had only covered a few miles in the multiple hours I had already been traveling that morning.

I crested the top of the first climb of the day and started heading down pretty muddy roads towards Hopewell lake. As I was descending I noticed that my front derailleur was acting up and it was becoming harder and harder to get the bike to shift. After I hit Hopewell, I stopped under an overhang (to get out of the pouring rain) and worked on my bike. I got the shifting working a bit better but it was still pretty sticky.

I hit the next climb up and over to Ovando and the shifting started to get really bad, there was lots of chain suck and the derailleur really didn't want to move out of the middle ring up front. I decided to not mess with it too much, a frustrated Divide racer can make a pretty poor mechanic (especially in the rain and mud!!). Then disaster really struck as I was descending towards Ovando, severe-the-likes-of-which-I-have-never-seen-chain-suck. The chain suck was so bad I actually had to unbolt my front derailleur from the frame to get the chain out.

Once the chain was unsucked, I put the derailleur back on but left it way up out of the way. This essentially left me with a 1x9 setup but it prevented any further chain suck stuck-age. I cruised on down to Ovando feeling good about how I was doing but bad about how the bike was holding up. Who knew several hundred miles of muddy roads in a few days would clog up a shifting system?

I pulled into Ovando and saw the infamous "Ovando: population 50, dogs 100" sign. You just gotta love small town America humor. As I rolled through town I was beckoned over to a store by a nice woman. (Ok, town is a strong word. Really I should say, "As I rolled into a small outcropping of three buildings...") She asked me if I had heard about the reroute. I said I had and started talking about snow, etc. She interrupted me and said, "No not for the snow honey, for the FLOODING." I looked at the map posted on the store window and sure enough there was a reroute for the reroute.... As Mr. Lee said, this was a 'biblical' year on the divide.

I grabbed a quick bite to eat and I was off and riding again for more pavement and reroute fun. I went through another small town (that I can't remember the name of) and hit more luscious dirt and climbing. Up until this point I had pretty much enjoyed the climbing, despite the fact that I was likely the slowest climber in the race. However, now that I was rocking a super sweet 1x9 set up I was not so good with the climbing. Don't get me wrong, when I could climb I would climb fast but the problem was that I just wasn't strong enough to climb in the middle ring most of the time.

This set off what would be a hike-a-bike-fest for the next two days as I slowly scampered my way into Butte. I can't really complain though, it gave me a chance to shoot some video diary as I walked.

Warning: Explicit adult language in this video!

After this pass I hit some roadway for a bit and then I hit the next huge climb, and I mean HUGE. This climb, which goes up to basically a trailer park in the sky, was just wrong it was so steep. At least all the foot prints that I followed made me feel less bad about walking it.

After I was up and over that climb, I hit some pavement and rode towards Helena.

In Helena I re-upped my gatorade and food supplies at a gas station and then I found a fast food place. I again had a face off with one of the ladies that worked there about what I had ordered. She brought the heaping tray of food to my table and then told me it 'couldn't be your's'. I told her it looked right to me. She became adamant that it couldn't be for one person. So I pulled out the oldest trick in the book... I recited the order to her, "It should be three bacon cheese burgers, a large order of fries, a large order of onion rings, a large chocolate shake, and two large ice cream sundays." She set down the tray with a look of bewilderment. "Thank you ma'am."

After having a grease lolipalooza at the fast food place I set out into the rain that had started while I was eating. I passed a bar with a bunch of 20 something patrons outside that started hooting and hollering for me. This would be the first of many times I felt like a pro cyclist.

The rain continued to come down in buckets as I started the dirt climb out of Helena. As the rain poured down the road continued to get muddier and muddier. I wouldn't have minded the mud so much but the 1x9 made it hard to spin easy and it was pitch black so I couldn't pick a good line to save my life. I decided about 11 pm to find a bivy spot. The road was lined with mini ranches, cabins, and barbwire fence. I finally thought I had ridden far enough form the last house that I had seen, I climbed up a bit off the roadway, and I found a large pine that gave me some shelter from the rain.

The best part about my sleep spot is that I woke up the next morning with the rising sun to realize I was in somebody's front yard!

I made this video as I was about to doze off. In it I ask universally puzzling questions such as, "What is a goat diary?" and "What can I do to make my gear better?" I also make some interesting statements about my gear and how I'm feeling. One thing is for sure, based upon how bizarrely my thoughts are flowing.... I was seriously tired when I shot this!