'Something grabs a hold of me tightly, flow like a harpoon daily and nightly' - Vanilla Ice
Montana can't make up its mind with the weather. We left Bigfork with the sun on our faces thinking we'd dodged the cold front. Little did we know it was creeping up behind us. We eased into our first day back on the bikes with a 2000 foot climb which quickly woke our legs up. It was definitely a bit of a shock to the system. That night we camped next to Woodward river under clear skies. The clear skies were still there after we crawled out of our tents but after our first climb we hit the teeth of the cold front and the temperature plummeted. Wrapped in most of our clothes we rode in rain for the last 30 kms of the day and finally pulled off the track to camp next to Clearwater Lake. We didnt know what we were in for as we weaved down a single track through thick woods. The woods opened up and the lake came into view. We set up camp in a totally deserted campsite on the lake and there was only one thing on our minds...fishing.
I was in after the third cast and the boys started celebrating, expecting a whopper to provide our first uncanned meal in days. It weighed in at 30g and I quickly released it before Keith could turn it into pate. It was the first catch of the tour and they can definitely only get bigger. We had to settle for tinned tuna beside the fire while trying to dry our wet kit.
The cold front truely set in over us that night. I woke up in the middle of the night to a noise I wasn't too familiar with. It was very close, with a clitter clatter type of sound. All I had to do was roll over to realise it was Keith's teeth chattering inside his head. He smiled at me and simply said, "Morning chom". The surrounding mountains were covered in snow and unfortunately for us we knew the only way forward was up.
We rode to any kind of sunlight over the first few kms just to try and thaw out. Hands and toes had gone numb and even though any downhill was fun it made the cold even worse. The top of Richmond Pass came pretty slowly but the view was all worth it. Wilderness as far as we could see. The downhill track that followed was our best by far. 5 kms of tight single track then at least 10 kms of jeep track got us down to Seeley Lake.
We still had a way to go to the bustling metropolis of Ovando, population 50, but it was 53 tonight. We bee-lined for the local bar in Ovando and within a few minutes Keith had made friends with a local, Jeff, who kindly offered his front lawn for us to camp on, although it took a while for us to get what he was saying through the slurs, but he seemed like a nice enough guy.
The tents were up in minutes and Jeff even offered up his bathroom for us to use. Now you must understand that a bathroom and shower have become like gold to us. After half an hour showers each, we settled down in the marquee (Mine and Keith's tent) to dorritos and ranch sauce. Classy.
The cold got us again that night and we woke up to frost on the grass. Keith decided to take matters into his own hands and the gas was burning in the tent before i could get out of my sleeping bag. This became the standard from then on. We'll see how long the tent lasts. After a huge breakfast and at least 4 cups of coffee each at the Stray Bullet we left Ovando with the goal of getting over two of our biggest climbs and getting to Lost Horse Creek. The sun was finally out and we were soon stripping off layers. Our whole tempo changed and the boys were chewing up kms. After a quick pitstop in Lincoln we pushed onward and upward to Poorman's Pass. It was the steepest pass we'd come up against, but mountain goat Cam was up there and out of sight within minutes. Keith and I pushed and sweated it out. On the climb we met Gill who promised us hot tea if we got to her ranch in Lost Horse Road. With the reward on the line the last 20 kms flew by and we pulled into Sunny Ridge Ranch to get that tea, and hopefully a hot shower and place to kip. The hot tea and pie were a treat and soon all kinds of comments were being dropped to try and get a roof over our heads that night. Gill didn't catch our drift and we ended up tenting it up at the bottom of the ranch.
We were frozen again when the sun came up. Packing tents and kit without feeling in your fingers can be tough. Helena was our next stop on the map and the route led us through thick forest and rough roads. The usually quiet roads were busy with ATV's and trucks and gunshots echoed throughout the valley. Elk hunting season had just opened so we quickly put on our brightest jackets and blasted the portable speaker.
We've cracked it passed the 1000 km mark and have made it to Butte, Montana. We wanted to be further south but the riding has been tougher than we expected. From talking to other cyclists who have completed the Divide trail they say that the Montana stretch is the hardest. Its another 100 km day tomorrow and we hope to be in Elkhorn Springs asap.
Montana can't make up its mind with the weather. We left Bigfork with the sun on our faces thinking we'd dodged the cold front. Little did we know it was creeping up behind us. We eased into our first day back on the bikes with a 2000 foot climb which quickly woke our legs up. It was definitely a bit of a shock to the system. That night we camped next to Woodward river under clear skies. The clear skies were still there after we crawled out of our tents but after our first climb we hit the teeth of the cold front and the temperature plummeted. Wrapped in most of our clothes we rode in rain for the last 30 kms of the day and finally pulled off the track to camp next to Clearwater Lake. We didnt know what we were in for as we weaved down a single track through thick woods. The woods opened up and the lake came into view. We set up camp in a totally deserted campsite on the lake and there was only one thing on our minds...fishing.
I was in after the third cast and the boys started celebrating, expecting a whopper to provide our first uncanned meal in days. It weighed in at 30g and I quickly released it before Keith could turn it into pate. It was the first catch of the tour and they can definitely only get bigger. We had to settle for tinned tuna beside the fire while trying to dry our wet kit.
The cold front truely set in over us that night. I woke up in the middle of the night to a noise I wasn't too familiar with. It was very close, with a clitter clatter type of sound. All I had to do was roll over to realise it was Keith's teeth chattering inside his head. He smiled at me and simply said, "Morning chom". The surrounding mountains were covered in snow and unfortunately for us we knew the only way forward was up.
We rode to any kind of sunlight over the first few kms just to try and thaw out. Hands and toes had gone numb and even though any downhill was fun it made the cold even worse. The top of Richmond Pass came pretty slowly but the view was all worth it. Wilderness as far as we could see. The downhill track that followed was our best by far. 5 kms of tight single track then at least 10 kms of jeep track got us down to Seeley Lake.
We still had a way to go to the bustling metropolis of Ovando, population 50, but it was 53 tonight. We bee-lined for the local bar in Ovando and within a few minutes Keith had made friends with a local, Jeff, who kindly offered his front lawn for us to camp on, although it took a while for us to get what he was saying through the slurs, but he seemed like a nice enough guy.
The tents were up in minutes and Jeff even offered up his bathroom for us to use. Now you must understand that a bathroom and shower have become like gold to us. After half an hour showers each, we settled down in the marquee (Mine and Keith's tent) to dorritos and ranch sauce. Classy.
The cold got us again that night and we woke up to frost on the grass. Keith decided to take matters into his own hands and the gas was burning in the tent before i could get out of my sleeping bag. This became the standard from then on. We'll see how long the tent lasts. After a huge breakfast and at least 4 cups of coffee each at the Stray Bullet we left Ovando with the goal of getting over two of our biggest climbs and getting to Lost Horse Creek. The sun was finally out and we were soon stripping off layers. Our whole tempo changed and the boys were chewing up kms. After a quick pitstop in Lincoln we pushed onward and upward to Poorman's Pass. It was the steepest pass we'd come up against, but mountain goat Cam was up there and out of sight within minutes. Keith and I pushed and sweated it out. On the climb we met Gill who promised us hot tea if we got to her ranch in Lost Horse Road. With the reward on the line the last 20 kms flew by and we pulled into Sunny Ridge Ranch to get that tea, and hopefully a hot shower and place to kip. The hot tea and pie were a treat and soon all kinds of comments were being dropped to try and get a roof over our heads that night. Gill didn't catch our drift and we ended up tenting it up at the bottom of the ranch.
We were frozen again when the sun came up. Packing tents and kit without feeling in your fingers can be tough. Helena was our next stop on the map and the route led us through thick forest and rough roads. The usually quiet roads were busy with ATV's and trucks and gunshots echoed throughout the valley. Elk hunting season had just opened so we quickly put on our brightest jackets and blasted the portable speaker.
We've cracked it passed the 1000 km mark and have made it to Butte, Montana. We wanted to be further south but the riding has been tougher than we expected. From talking to other cyclists who have completed the Divide trail they say that the Montana stretch is the hardest. Its another 100 km day tomorrow and we hope to be in Elkhorn Springs asap.
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