Tag: Missoula

Bike Tour 2022 – Missoula to Lochsa Lodge

A night of purloined Netflix put us in the mood to break camp and get back on the road.

Motel breakfast was so so. We left on the roads for Lolo somewhat underfed. Coming into Missoula we used bike trails but leaving we used city streets, devoid of traffic early on this Fourth of July holiday.

As luck would have it the road took us to a WalMart where we bought a few essentials. The streets gave way to the bike trail which is in decent condition from Missoula to Lolo.

We rode the trail into Lolo where we had second breakfast at McDonalds. Don’t @ me. We needed calories because the next 26 miles would be gradually uphill.

We turned onto US 12, a road that followed Lolo Creek towards Lolo Pass. The creek was beautiful and it’s surroundings became more so with each mile. We clipped along at (for me) 12 mph. After 38 miles we took a break at Lolo Hot Springs. The soda machine charges $3 for a Coke.

Another eight miles took us to Lolo Pass (elevation 5,235 feet) and the Idaho border and the Pacific time zone. Trifecta! We had climbed just over 2,000 feet. Neither my legs nor my lungs were stressed at all. The day off did them and my mood a world of good.

What followed was a five mile twisty descent into a gusty wind. Big fun. The wind was unpredictable. At one point I was going 29 mph when a headwind gust knocked my speed down to 22. I got the message. Feather the brakes on the turns!

The mountains around us on this side of the pass were densely forested right to the side of the road. I kept expecting a bear to emerge. I’m glad that didn’t happen.

We were riding next to Crooked Fork Creek on our left. The trees were a mixture of cedar, spruce, firs, and other evergreens. They were immense.

After a fun downhill ride we arrived at Lochsa Lodge, a rustic resort that sets aside a lawn area for bicyclists to camp.

Tomorrow we will ride further downhill as far as our bodies and minds allow.

Beatles fans can guess the name of this business
Riding toward Lolo Pass
Bye Montana
It’s like a cell phone that you put money into

Miles today: 59 Tour miles: 2,394.5

Bike Tour 2022 – Stuck inside Missoula with Them Lolo Blues Again

We’re taking a well deserved day off in Missoula. We ate pizza and beer for dinner. Hopefully none of us contracted Covid in the process.

Our hotel is the same one I stayed in in 2019. It’s nasty on the outside but more than adequate on the inside.

I test drove Corey’s sleeping pad on the floor last night. (It was my turn to go bedless.) It felt like a mattress despite being only about three inches thick. For four hours. My body subconsciously rebelled thereafter. This experience aside, Corey’s sleeping pad is much better than mine.

We ate a sumptuous motel breakfast. (That’s bike tour sarcasm, folks.) Afterwards, Mark and I drew up itineraries for the rest of the trip. They very nearly matched. Importantly we agreed we’d reach the finish line in Astoria, Oregon on Wednesday July 20. We expect to be met by the roar of a crowd. Actually Mark’s wife is meeting us there. I suspect she’ll emit a fierce yawn.

On the 21st, Corey and I are riding 100 miles to Portland unless we can convince Mark’s wife to rent a minivan with a roof rack (we have to give Corey someplace to sit). Another possibility is to take a bus. However, we regard such mundane motor transport as unmanly and undignified.

I managed to walk one mile yesterday and a mile and a half today without stenosis pain. I suspect weight loss is a factor. Then again modest abuse of painkillers may play a role as well.

We walked to lunch only to find the brew pub was a brewery with a woefully inadequate food truck. I mean an omelette from a truck seems gastronomically unwise, don’t you think? So we hit a supermarket deli on the way back instead.

I booked a flight home and am making arrangements to ship my bike. Corey will be taking Amtrak to Chicago. (2 days of stultifying boredom await.) He’ll have to box his bike at the station. It seems odd that Amtrak doesn’t have roll on service in one of the bikey-est cities in the country. (Corey spent all morning trying to make his reservation ultimately handing the task over to his wife Lynn who speaks fluent Choo Choo Train. Needless to say, Amtrak’s reservation software needs serious work.)

At midafternoon we are hunkered down watching Chris’s Netflix account in our room. Chris apparently stayed here recently and left his account active for all who follow. We are resisting the urge to watch objectionable programs so that Chris’s family doesn’t think he’s some sort of pervert. Then again we might get bored with Top Gear and resort to mischief.

Our chains are lubed, our tires are pumped. Tomorrow we ride over Lolo Pass and down the Lochsa River valley into Idaho. We hope to make the trip without rain or hail, because, on a 40 mph, downhill hail can ruin your whole day.

Bike Tour 2022 – Darby to Missoula

I neglected to mention yesterday’s brief moment of terror. Near the end of the seven-mile descent, the road surface changed. The Missouri Department of Highway Mayhem added a rumble strip that I managed to hit at 28 mph. I hit one strip then another before escaping to the paved shoulder. No problemo. Just some wet pants.

We ate breakfast in the cabin after a good night’s sleep. Then we lit out for Missoula some 62 miles downhill to the north. Or so we thought.

After the first ten miles I struggled. We were riding on US 93, the only main north/south highway in the Bitterroot Valley. Traffic was unpleasant. After 20 miles or so we were shunted onto a bike path that has seen better days. (US bike infrastructure motto: we build them but we don’t maintain them.)

Both Corey and I were nearly hit by stop sign runners eager to get onto the adjacent highway. When my near collision happened, I abandoned the trail for the chip seal shoulder of the four lane 70 mph highway.

The road had rumble strips so I could hear any encroaching vehicle. I also have a mirror. I felt much safer.

We stopped a couple of times for gas station convenience food, but my body wanted a break. In Lolo we stopped at Dairy Queen. They have a $7 meal deal that was just the right amount of food (with a small ice cream sundae).

After that the trail into Missoula improved immensely. Once we were in town we rode trails five miles to the headquarters of the Adventure Cycling Association, of which we are all members. The ACA made the maps we are following. I took the lead and somehow brought us to the ACA doorstep without a missed turn.

After some photos we headed a half mile west to a hotel where I stayed in 2018. Our room is a second story walk up but it was recently renovated. It’s my turn to sleep on the floor.

Tomorrow we are taking a day off. We’ve been hitting the hills and the miles hard lately. We need fresh legs for the ride over Lolo Pass on Monday.

Miles today: 70. Tour miles: 2,335.5 (previous day’s miles were messed up)

For most of today I felt like llama poop
Mural along the Bitterroot Trail.
A storm was bearing down on us
Me at the mothership
Corey and Mark st the mothership

Any Road Tour: Day 43 – Downhill squeeze on I-90

Last night’s dinner at the Old Post in Missoula featured two pale ales that did a fine job of hydrating me and my dinner of a southwest burger with tater tots. Thanks again to Emma Wimmer for the dinner suggestion. Based on social media comments, Emma is missed by a whole mess of #bikedc people.

Speaking of #bikedc people, Alex Baca returned to DC today after several years living in San Francisco and Cleveland. (I think we should call her LaBron.) I can’t be at her welcome home party today but, we’ll, Welcome Home, Alex!!!!

Oh yeah, the bike tour.

I lingered over breakfast at the hotel to avoid riding in sub-50 degree weather. Did somebody say “Early April?”

I followed an informal route provided by Adventure Cycling. The ride out of Missoula included a lot of suburban ick but eventually I was on a frontage road to the very western section of the Mass Pike.

The frontage road doom turned to gravel and dirt for about ten miles. I didn’t care. I was rested and pretty much nothing would make me cranky.

Frenchtown went by in a blink and after 33 miles I rolled into Alberton. It had a general store so I parked The Mule under an extended eave and went looking for grub. It was a real challenge to find something not in a can or less than 80 proof.

As I shopped a cold rain began. I stood next to my steed eating Doritos, cookies, and a candy bar while swilling Diet Pepsi. Nutrition is my middle name.

The rain stopped so I headed out of town following my map onto the interstate. All was going well until I entered a construction zone. Traffic was one lane in each direction. I had a wide shoulder to myself until I came to two bridges which were about 150 yards long in total. No shoulder. Eek.

Fortunately the road was trending downhill and the speed limit was lowered from 80 to 55 mph. I waited uphill from the bridges and took off when I saw a big gap in traffic. I made it across with room to spare.

A mile later it happened again. This bridge was half as long but it was on an uphill section of road. I pedaled like crazy but only made it half way across before a white old man sedan rolled by me at about 30 mph. Thankfully it wasn’t a Winnebago.

I took another frontage road soon after the two squeeze plays. The views were great. The road was paved. I was following the Clark Fork River. I passed a rafting outfitter who yelled a greeting and offered me water. Nice lady.

In Superior I stopped at a funky cafe and gift shop. I ordered the peanut butter and banana panini and coffee. The sandwich came with chips, carrots, and a small piece of chocolate chip chocolate cake. And a cup full of honey for dipping.

With very happy tummy, I resumed my ride for the last 13 miles to St. Regis. This entire leg was on I-90. Once again I came to a bridge where I lost my shoulder. Once again I failed to cross the span before traffic caught up to me. I was fortunate that the first vehicle to reach me was a tractor trailer with a very patient driver. I heard him downshift as he approached. As I cleared the bridge I gave him a wave and a thumbs up.

Like yesterday today’s ride was nearly all downhill. I did only a handful of climbs of more than 50 feet. There were headwinds but they were manageable. And it rained a bit.

The best part of the day was getting to 70 miles and feeling like I could do a lot more. I didn’t. During the stop in Alberton I reserved a room at a motel in St. Regis.

Total miles: 76

Tour miles: 3,124.5

Tomorrow should be my last day in Montana.

Any Road Tour: Day 42 – Missoula rest day off

Last night I laid out my wet things in my huge room at the Holiday Inn. And passed out.

I awoke and laid about, checking on flights home from Seattle and Portland. I packed up and went next door for coffee and a breakfast burrito.

Then I hit the bank because sometimes only cash will work in the hinterlands ahead.

I rolled over to the mothership, the headquarters of the Adventure Cycling Association. A friendly young man whose name I forgot took my picture with The Mule for the legendary Adventure Cycling wall of bike tourists.

Next I met Emma Wimmer, a former resident of DC and mutual friend of about a dozen #bikedc folks. She started by giving me routing advice for the next several days. Exactly what I needed. Then she gave me the cook’s tour of the place. I’ve been a member for at least 20 years so it was fun to see how it all works. I even met Ginny Sullivan who works on nationwide bike routes. We also have lots of mutual connections and interests.

After over an hour I posed with Emma for a picture outside. Thank you, Emma. What a treat it was meeting you.

Emma gave me recommendations on a camping store where I bought seam sealer for my tent. And on a restaurant (The Catalyst) where I bought lunch. Grilled cheese on vegan bread? Well, despite the dairy anomaly it tasted great.

Next on the advice of a Twitter follower I went to the Big Dipper for some ice cream. It was chilly out so I put on my jacket while I ate.

A block away I found Missoula Bicycle Works. They replaced my pedals (they’ve been squeaking since Minnesota) and tightened my rear hub.

Next I rode gently to the west of town and booked a hotel room. There I sealed the seams of the rain fly of my tent. Then I went inside on an absolutely beautiful afternoon and fell sound asleep for three hours.

I guess I was tired. They call me Mr. Excitement.

After waking I watched an inning of the Sawx vs the Nats on TV. What ever is wrong with my Nats? I am sure that my Baseball Operations manager is working hard to fix it, aren’t you Katie Lee?

In the evening I walked a half mile to the Old Post, Emma’s dinner suggestion. She went three for three.

Miles: 4

Total miles: 3,048.5

Any Road Tour: Day 41 – Wasted in Missoula

Before I begin today’s report I wanted to show you my trail angel from yesterday. Here’s Maria who invited me to join the “plant nerds” at the Montana Native Plants Society meeting in the woods west of Lincoln.

If I have the story right, she gee up in the tiny town of Ovando, MT about which more in a moment.

I hung out with the plant nerds all night. It was a full out orgy in the woods,

I’m kidding. It was an earnest group of field botanists who truly care about the flora of Montana. Got me the most interesting part was hearing how Maria and her friend Jack Potter (no not the former PMG) talk about their joint replacements and related medical problems. Hiking is very hard on the body. I feel better now because when I go hiking I feel sore all over.

Anyway, thanks to the MNPS and Maria for taking me under their wing got the night.

I slept poorly, the after effects of drinking beer the day before and riding hard two days in a row. And the fact that it rained all night, outside and inside my tent. (I will shop for seam sealer tomorrow.

Also i slept in my rain gear for warmth since the temperature dipped into the 40s. (There is snow visible on top of the taller mountains around here.)

After breakfast with the nerds I took off on the long ride ton Missoula. I had planned to ride to Ovando yesterday but the climb over Rogers Gap, fierce headwinds, and Maria’s sales skills put me nearly 30 miles shy of that town. A 55+ mile ride from Ovando to Missoula would have been a nice break from the long days I’d been putting in. With the distance from the MNPS meeting to Ovando, today’s ride clocked in at 88 miles.

The headwinds were moderate to start and the ride was nearly all downhill. Sleepy and sore, my body wanted nothing to go with the effort.

After a half hour I rode through Lincoln. I had been told that accommodations in Lincoln were probably sold out but I could see plenty of empty campsites as I rode through town. Sadly, I had to skip the town’s rodeo and it’s famous Ring of Fire.

The ride to Ovando was done on fumes. I just couldn’t get into a rhythm.

My friend Charmaine sent me an article about how this tiny town of less than 100 attracts Nicole tourists from both the Lewis and Clark Trail and the Great Divide Mountain Route.

I joined Tom, a GDMBR rider, for second breakfast at the town eatery. He described bear paw prints as big as his plate and riding into a herd of elk. I take my chances with Winnebagos.

We briefly talked to two other GDMBR riders from New Zealand.

On the way out of town I checked out some of the town’s kooky sleeping quarters for weary cyclists: a teepee, a chuck wagon, and an old town jail. I’d have stayed but my rest day in Missoula was my top priority.

Into the increasingly strong headwinds I rode. I was out of gas after 15 miles. I stopped to eat junk food. After another five miles I was bonked again.

It was misery amid splendor. The beauty of the mountains and woods and streams was astounding. I could have stopped every mile to take pictures. In the interest of getting myself off the bike sooner I kept riding.

After 75 miles I stopped at a sub shop in Milltown. I was starving. I ate giant sandwich and it instantly revived me.

Good thing too, the headwinds intensified with each passing mile into Missoula. One blast in particular almost brought me to a dead stop.

I forged ahead and asked the Google to direct me to a Warmshowers house. The Google tool me on a confusing ride through the University of Montana campus.

I finally found the lovely house in a beautiful neighborhood. As I rolled my bike inside, I became dizzy. I had waaay overdone it. It seemed like a fascinating place to stay but I just couldn’t deal with interacting with people. I made my apologies to the hosts and rode off to find a hotel.

And so I landed in a huge room in a Holiday Inn. Tomorrow I rest.

Miles: 88

Tour Miles: 3,044.5