Zen On Dirt


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CDT Day 97 and 98 – I love rest. I love day rides. I love day rides after rest days the best.

Day 97

Oh zero days, how I love thee.

Scott and I both woke up with sore legs, which makes me think that the sheer fun factor of the trails leading into Butte made us pedal harder than we normally would. And it’s true, when the trail is good, it’s worth putting in the extra effort to pedal up a steep hill versus sliding out and slipping all over on a rubbly piece of junk road.

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Our bikes needed some love…

Anyhow, rest was good. We played computers. We ate lunch at Wetona’s, which now is leading the Best Salad and Sandwich of the Trip competition. We sat in the hot tub. We went and bought a watermelon. I watched two episodes of Project Runway and the movie, The Gabby Douglas Story. I’m fascinated by gymnastics as someone who’s never been able to do a cartwheel in her life. I’m also fascinated by people who can focus on goals for longer than a few months at a time, a skill that I sorely lack.

That being said, the racing bug is trying really hard to burrow itself under my skin, so we’ll see if that turns into anything. I may lack focus, but I have a thing with unfinished business…

All in all, an excellent day of recovery, rest, and rejuvenation.

Day 98

We nearly missed the continental breakfast this morning on account of sleeping until 8:50. This may have been due to me staying up late watching the Gabby Douglas Story and then letting my imagination run with the idea of racing again. It’s an itch that I’m not sure I want to scratch.

We’d decided to stay an extra day in Butte and day ride for two reasons: We’d just put a bunch of new bits and pieces on our bikes (chains, brake pads, cables and housing) and we wanted to be sure that they all played nicely together, and secondly, we (and by we, I mean Scott) are still tossing around different options on how to finish this thing, and a little more computer time would help the situation.

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Anyhow, if we day rode, we could ride trail from town up to a section of CDT that isn’t connected yet and ride it backwards to Homestake Pass. We’d been told it was a “local favorite”, so we were a little wary. But, the whole loop wasn’t going to be more than 25 miles, so we went. Rob had told us to ride up Maud S trail, hook up with the CDT south, and then come down the tracks. I was skeptical as it would involve gaining 2,500-ish feet in 5 miles instead of 20, but it’s always good to trust the local.

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The climb was steep, exposed, and hot, and we started to question Rob’s judgement. Do people really ride up this on a regular basis? A few bits required hike-a-bike, but for the most part, motivated climbing got us up the steep pitches.

“The downhill on the CDT better be awesome to warrant climbing this,” I declared part of the way up. This clearly wasn’t going the way of an “easy” day.

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Our Lady of the Rockies. If you ask the waiter at Hanging5, it’s Mother Teresa. (It’s not, it’s built in the “likeness of Mary”. Yes, we got a good laugh out of Mother Teresa) She’s 90 feet tall and 48 feet wide and her eyeballs are four feet in diameter.

After four miles of climbing, we reached the CDT. After another mile of climbing, we reached the high point at 8,000 feet and sat down for lunch. Ooof, that wasn’t easy.

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The descent…yeah, I’d call it a local favorite. It turned and twisted playfully through rocks, used its elevation to perfection making it seem like the descent that wouldn’t end, was shaded, fast, and while probably not designed by a mountainbiker, designed by someone who understood (for the most part) sustainable trail design. It was a total win and we were sad to make it to Homestake 9 miles later.

We cruised down the tracks back to town, thanking Rob for the ride tip. It was a much more reasonable day ride than our last attempt at a day ride…

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The rest of the afternoon was spent getting our junk together for a not-too-late departure tomorrow. We found fuel, I got a new pair of socks to replace the ones stolen by the chipmunk weeks ago, and three days and two nights worth of food.

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The bikes are running smoothly, the legs feel good, next stop: Some gas station seven miles off route before making another push to Lincoln. We’ve heard rumors of 17 miles of newly constructed CDT. I can’t wait.

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Pretty much how we’re feeling about this trip and the ride today


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CDT Day 96 – Dream riding into Butte

The best part of today’s ride wasn’t even on the CDT, which is saying a lot because today had the best continuous piece of 1-track we’ve ridden this entire trip, potentially the best in our entire lives. But no, the best part of the day was our descent down into Butte via a Facebook tip that we got while sitting at the top of the pass wondering how we were going to get down to town.

It was a sub-warm night. Sub-warm to the point that we both got into our bivys halfway through the night and spent the second half of the night trying to sleep next to each other on our sides to share body heat while fighting the ever-present ouchie-hips that come from sleeping on air pads on your side. Hip pain vs warmth, it’s a tough decision.

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The days are definitely getting shorter and we’re sleeping later and later. Our fuel bottle was getting lighter and lighter, and it eventually died about 30 seconds into heating water for oatmeal. Cold oats it was. It was so close to making it…

We toodled over to where the trail crossed the GDMBR and found three riders camped in a cow-free enclosure. Headed south, they admitted, “We have the time to do this tour, but we’re not sure if we have the motivation.” Butte’s about the time when Montana seems like it’s never going to end during the GDMBR.

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We left them to their packing and continued on the trail, a 600 foot climb littered with switchbacks. Scott put his food down first, “I meant to do that.” I rode by.

“One!” We’ve spent the trip counting up the places that Scott bobbles and I ride. I usually get 1-3 per day. We obviously don’t count the reverse, the number would be far too high.

We continued up, me leading. “Give me some space on this one,” I called back, “Not sure it’s going to go for me.”

I scooted right up the pile of rocks. “Two!” Scott yelled from behind. “You’re winning this one.”

I ended up not having the resources to make it up a steepie, making the final score 1-2 in my favor for the climb. That’s never happened before. Great success!

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The trail turned techy soon after a mini-descent and we settled back into the normal routine of me walking plenty of things that Scott rode. What fun trail! Rocky, but reasonably pitched. Meandering, but flowing. Up and down ridges we went, the trail kept getting better. More and more manicured, beautifully built trail. Winter Park-esque to Buff Creek-esque. Decomposed granite, sweeping switchbacks. Woods and open grasslands.

We hit Pipestone Pass, our first bailout down to Butte. We’ve got food, we’ve got energy, and this trail is going to be a lot more fun to ride with half a days worth of food rather than three, we decided, so we continued on for nine more miles of trail to I-90.

Wow. Just wow. It the entire CDT were like this, I’d ride it in carbon-soled race shoes. Absolutely perfect mountain bike trail.

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“Embrace the brutality! Fun it not allowed!” We ripped down another fast descent. Is this for real? Nine miles ended quickly, even with 1,000+ feet of climbing in the section, and we found ourselves at Homestake Pass. Our initial plan was to ride new CDT that wasn’t connected yet on the north to a trail that would take us to a trail that would drop us into Butte, but when we found out that it involved several thousand feet of climbing, we quickly nixed the idea. Trail was calling, but town food was calling even louder.

We turned to The Facebook and got a tip: Follow the tracks. They’ll bring you right to town.

Figuring it would beat the freeway, we started down.

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What a cool little connection! Spectacular scenery, cool rocks, no cars, and just enough adventure to make us feel like we were doing something really cool. Maybe it was so good because it was unexpected, but I think that it really was just that good.

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We went straight to The Outdoorsman, savior shop to many TD riders. Rob got our bikes straight into the shop for new cables and housing and chains. A bit of Stans and potentially new brake pads today and they’re good to go. It’s one of the best shops on the GDMBR route and Rob goes out of his way to help bike tourists and racers alike, which I think it really neat.

We picked up our bounce box and are settled in for a zero.

Scott said the crux of MT was making it to Butte from West Yellowstone. I think it’s the crux of the whole CDT.

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The fact that we only have a few more days of actual CDT is starting to hit. My mom sent us our passports for the finish. We’re starting to try to figure out how we’re going to get home, where we want to go on our road trip back to Tucson, and when we’ll actually have a house to move back into.

We’re also mourning the fact that we got word that Mi Ranchito, our go-to hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint in Tucson just went out of business without our patronage over the summer.

It feels a little bit weird. Fall is in the air. The end is near. But there’s still so far to go.


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CDT Day 95 – 40 on-trail miles? Say it ain’t so! The CDT just got GOOD!

I think today had the highest fun to BS factor of any single day on the CDT so far. Minimal slogging, miles and miles of mindblowing reclaimed ATV trail and singletrack. I don’t think we’re alone among CDT thru-travelers who are incredibly impressed with the trail in MT.

It was a wet night. A few drizzles to make us happy that we had the tarp up and then an insane amount of dew. Bags were damp, tarp was soaked, I was determined not to get out of my cocoon until it warmed up at least 20 degrees. But I also knew that once Scott announced that breakfast was served, I’d better motivate or he’d eat it all. He really would, and probably not feel bad about it.

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We packed away wet gear, planning on drying it out during lunch.

The day started with a climb. On a well graded dirt road. I joked that if the climb continued like that, I could climb all day. We were both waiting for it to kick up. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Pedaling. Pedaling. Pedaling. Talking. Talking. Talking. Could this be true?

The road turned closed to motorized, but still, great gradient, slow but steady pedaling.

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We had a scare for a little bit as the “trail” went up a dry creek bed and we were reduced to hiking. Steep hiking. Eventually, we found an ATV trail and followed it straight up the side of the hill. Here’s the CDT we know and love(?)!

But it skipped the high point. An ATV trail took us down, and then gently up, steep down, steep up, gentle down, gentle up. Switchbacks! Are those allowed on ATV trails?

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I’ll trade you a kiss if you pump up my tire for me.

A kiss and two Swedish Fish.

The boy drives a hard bargain and we’re both playing the “We’re out of Stans but we really don’t want to tube it” game.

We ended up on Fleecer Ridge trail, a known quantity (farther south) from the GDMBR. It was beautiful, beautiful, riding. Easy. Straightforward. Fast (ish).

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We stopped for lunch and gear drying on the ridge before starting one of the most fun descents on the trip. A wide sometimes singletrack, sometimes ATV-track, blasted down through the trees. Well benched, lush forests, giant dragon-egg boulders everywhere. We couldn’t believe our luck.

It took 7 miles for us to eventually run out of trail and dump out on the GDMBR just west of I-15. We chatted with two GDMBR riders headed south for a bit before turning north, out to the frontage road, under the freeway, and then up.

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The sun out, we sweat. And it felt SO good. To finally be hot instead of cold…oooooo-eeeeee! I guess there’s a reason we call Tucson home…

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We followed the GDMBR for a few miles before diving off onto singletrack. We’d been promised good trail around Butte. Good is an understatement! Narrow, twisty, wooded, duffy. Small climbs, fun descents, perfectly built switchbacks. Forests inhabited by unicorns. We giggled, and giggled, and then giggled some more.

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After getting beatdown pretty non-stop from West Yellowstone to there, it was such a treat. Such a treat. We’re camped just shy of crossing the GDMBR again. We have 10 more miles of trail, then a 10 mile drop into Butte. A semi-nero, we hope. Then probably a zero day to get bikes worked on (mine doesn’t really appreciate shifting or stopping any more), rest a bit, and then off to Lincoln…our last section of actual CDT.

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If the trail tomorrow is anything like today, I can’t wait to go ride it.


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CDT Day 94 – Escaping the Big Hole vortex! Onwards!

I woke up, erm, tired. That’s a good word for it. Yesterday was the longest day we’ve done so far, both time and milage wise, and even though it was unloaded, it was hard.

We totally blew all of our recovery, we decided. But we also decided that more than needing physical recovery, we needed emotional recovery. We needed to do something other than slogging with heavy bikes, pushing up all the steep hills, and just sort of plodding. It was a lot of fun to ride at a higher than bikepacking pace, to push the hills a little bit, to actually get behind my saddle for descending (at least until I hooked my shorts trying to get back from behind the saddle…that didn’t end well, to ride long past normal stopping time because we had to get back.

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We walked, bleary-eyed, over to The Crossing. “How was your ride?” the owner, Diane, asked. “Did you make it back for dinner?”

“Not even close!”

A couple of cups of coffee later, I was ready to go back to bed. Instead, we got a late checkout, wrote some blog posts, packed our stuff up, and finally left at 12:30. To the store for resupply. “I don’t want to eat any of this,” I whined. I’m sick of candy and gas station food.

There, I said it, I AM SICK OF CANDY!

Back to the Crossing for one last meal. 11th maybe? One final slice of pie. We thanked them for existing and for serving good food. And for having the best pie since Pie Town.

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And you thought the lines were bad at bike races…

Had there been any dirt in our immediate future, I would have pushed for another zero, but we had 30 miles of flat pavement to get back on the trail, detouring the Pintlar Wilderness. That, I could handle.

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We did our best to go slow, to spin, to make it as recovery as possible. We stopped at a campground 25 miles in for snacks and to watch the RV crowd before pushing on a few more miles to where we rejoined the trail. We found the first patch of trees, ate our burritos and sandwiches (fuel is on the low side…hopefully we can get dinner to cook tomorrow night), watched the sunset, and settled into our little grove of trees.

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Snow…erm

Tomorrow, into the Hungry Hills (seriously, awesome name), then hopefully across 1-15 and within striking distance of Butte where we have our box waiting and a bike shop for new bits and pieces. The bikes are getting a little tired…

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High-five! We made it out of Wisdom!

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Frozen burritos and a romantic sunset


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CDT day 93 – An adventurous day ride….because we could

It would have been so easy to skip that section of trail. As far as putting together a “logical” CDT bike route, it made so much sense to drop down to Wisdom from Big Hole Pass. Even going to Chief Joseph was “out of the way” as far as aesthetics go.

But, but, it was CDT that was open to bikes and we had little voices whispering in our ears that the trail on the north side of Chief Joseph was a local favorite and that we should definitely go ride it.

Forget that we knew that there’d be 10 miles of BS trail from Big Hole north, or that it would be 21 miles from Wisdom to Big Hole Pass, or that it would be at least 20 home from Shultz Saddle. Forget that we were working on recovery.

We set an early alarm and were at the Crossing for breakfast right at 7, bikes unloaded, save a day’s worth of food, and ready to roll. The clouds hung low over the surrounding mountains but the chance of rain had diminished significantly. Go time.

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Retracing our steps west for four miles on the highway and on to the dirt road that had brought us into Wisdom. We went slowly in the wet dirt, dodging puddles, telling the clouds to go away. It was a wet cold where it doesn’t matter what layers you’re wearing, it’s still not comfortable.

We regained the CDT at the pass. Straight up the hill ATV. Ready, go. It was so nice to ride unloaded. Each pedal stroke brought forward motion, steepies weren’t impossible.

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We came upon Unbreakable and NoTrace on the first downhill and stopped and chatted in the cold mist until my body temperature dropped to the point that either movement or a jacket was required. They told us that Marmot and Trail Dog were just an hour ahead.

If the trail would have been fast, we would have caught them sooner, but it was classic MT/ID border trail. Straight up, straight down, straight up, straight down. Hike up, ride most of the way down. The moisture had made the waterbars slick, making for semi-terrifying riding. 10 miles, only 10 miles of BS.

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We made it through, counting our blessings of having unloaded bikes, and dumped out on a dirt road that went straight down. Marmot and Trail Dog didn’t stand a chance and we caught them quickly. We hadn’t seen them since Pie Town, NM. They were in good spirits and hiking happy.

Next came Memento, last seen in Pinedale. “I thought you guys would be days ahead,” he said.

“We took some weather breaks.”

All the hikers talked of getting rained and snowed on for days straight from Leodore and were looking forward to hitching into Darby. It sounded miserable.

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We ran into Data and Abandoner at the pass, thumbing a ride on the 70 mph highway. Chatting and watching their lack of luck made me really glad that we don’t have to hitchhike off the trail. We wished them luck and continued onto the Chief Joseph XC ski trails.

We wondered about the “local favorite” designation, bumping along on flat XC ski trails. And then things turned good. 6 miles of perfectly built trail, downhill, giggle and smile trail. While we’ve ridden some spectacular trail in the past two weeks, this ranked the highest on the sheer fun factor.

We got to Gibbons Pass at 5:07, our bailout. “It’s nice out, let’s keep going.” The sun had emerged for the first time in days. It’s only 9 miles to Shultz Shoulder, then 20 home, we’ll make it for dinner!

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Thru hiker wishful thinking and excellent humor. We hear the PCT is slightly easier overall.

The trail started out well graded, cleared of trees, even though it was going through a giant burn area. We saw a sign: Shultz Shoulder – 11 miles. Ley Map milage estimates…always add 20%. No fear, two hours of riding, 1.5 on the road home, we’ll still make it for dinner and pie.

3 miles in, we hit our first downed tree. Then second, and third, and so on.

“Do we turn back?” I asked. Seven miles ahead, four behind.

“They said it was a local favorite…”

“Might as well keep going. We have food, we have lights.” I gave up on the hope for dinner.

For half a mile, we suffered. Endless trees down, spaced 50 feet apart, that perfect distance that you want to ride…but seems so pointless to ride. It’s got to get better.

We made our way into a live forest eventually and the downed trees lessened, but the rain started. We waited 3 minutes too long to put jackets on, it’s got to pass.

The trail was nice. Gentle grades, lush forest (except where it wasn’t), but when we got the option to skip the last two miles and ride on a road, we took the opportunity.

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Based on the troddenness of the trail, hikers make the same choice.

We reached Shultz Saddle 2:45 after we left Gibbons Pass. Whoops? The first sign on the way down was disheartening: Highway 43 – 17 miles. 17 miles?!

Damp from the rain, which had thankfully stopped, we froze descending the 2,000 feet down. The 300 foot climb was a blessing as we lost the last of our light. We sang the rest of the way down the road in the dark. Fun fact: Scott knows all the words to Katy Perry’s California Gurls. It makes for a great bear song.

We eventually reached the highway at mile marker 13. “We’re 12 miles from Chief Joseph Pass,” I pointed out. “And Wisdom is at mile marker 25.” (I was wrong, it’s at 26).

It was a long, 13 miles back to town with a headwind and occasional sprinkles of rain. 88.7 miles. 14.5 hour out. I sort of feel like a truck ran over me this morning.

But it was awesome. It was nice to day ride, It was nice to ride unloaded. It was awesome to do something that we didn’t actually think we’d pull off. It’s good to be able to say definitively that Big Hole Pass is the correct exit for mountain bikes.

Reasonable? No. But when have either of us ever been good at reasonable?

It was good to go on a mini-adventure in the midst of a big one.


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CDT Day 90, 91, 92 – Nero to Wisdom, pie, and rest.

Day 90

90 days on the trail (not including our 12 day layover in Durango).

Wow. We just did the math – to our best estimation, we’ve taken 19 days completely off, which leaves us with 71 days of riding. Mostly full days. Mostly on 1-track. That’s pretty dang cool. The end is not yet in sight (I think it will be once we get to Lincoln), but it’s sort of crazy to think that we’ve been at this for 3+ months.

Also crazy is that we’re only 140 miles as the crow flies (ACF) from West Yellowstone that we left nearly two weeks ago. We’ve had some good squiggles in there.

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Sleep was fairly deep under our tarp. It’d started raining again sometime in the middle of the night and all I could think was, “I love this tarp.” I felt fairly sure that our moats and dams would hold, and if not, hopefully our sleeping pads would float.

I half feared that we’d wake up to sunny skies and we’d be tempted to ride the 15 miles to Chief Josephs Pass, and then maybe the next 12 to Shultz Pass. Secretly, I knew it would be a bad life choice, but I can resist anything but temptation.

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Luckily (?), I woke up to being shrouded by clouds and fairly to mostly cold. It was an easy decision to bail off of the pass and ride the 20 miles of dirt roads to Wisdom.

We broke all of our cardinal rules of camping and bikepacking. We put our tarp away wet, I wore my warm baselayer for riding (getting it sweaty and having to sleep wet is my worst nightmare), and we both wore our sleeping socks instead of putting on our sopping wet ones from the day before. We were headed to town!

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The ride was easy, though each hill reminded me that rest was probably a good idea. When a 10 mile ride on a fairly flat dirt road seems long…yeah, it’s time for a rest.

We found that The Crossing served breakfast, so we went in and stuffed our faces (visit 1). I hadn’t felt particularly hungry getting to town, but I ate an impressive amount. We found ourselves a room for the night and after settling in, went back to the Crossing for lunch (visit 2). After some bad TV and horizontal time (every Simpsons ever marathon and Breakfast Club), we went to check out The Crossing’s dinner menu (3). They have real salads! Yay!

The rain came down for part of the day. More is on the way.

Day 91

Breakfast at The Crossing (4). Move to motel across town (5 blocks away). Lunch at The Crossing (5). Work + Netflix movie (best internet access we’ve had all trip). Dinner and pie at The Crossing (6). Rain all day.

Day 92

Breakfast at The Crossing (7). Work. Visit to the store for chips and salsa, popcorn, and drinks. Movie time. Rain and clouds all day.

It’s supposed to clear up a bit tomorrow, so barring rain first thing in the morning, I think we’re going to set an alarm and try to go day-ride the 30 miles of trail we missed. It’ll be a big day, but we both want to ride unloaded. Some of the trail is supposed to be a local favorite, and above all, it’s CDT that’s open to bikes. We’ve got to at least try.

Then two nights to Butte, a few days rest, two nights to Helena, a night or so to Lincoln, then GDMBR route to Whitefish (most likely), and then we have to plan our finish strategy as we can’t ride the trail in Glacier Nat’l Park.

So, two weeks, give or take. Looks like high pressure is moving in on Tuesday, so we should have a window to cover some miles.


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CDT Day 89 – A Meltdown of CDT-esque proportions

Well, I guess if I didn’t have one good and solid meltdown this trip, then I would have finished it thinking that it wasn’t all that hard. But with the memory of a meltdown…it makes me remember that it was hard. Like, real hard.

I woke up to “Breakfast is served.” Scott had gotten up, cooked our oats, and added all the toppings without me even turning over. It was a good start to the day. I knew what was coming from pre-reading Scott’s blog: Several 9,000 ft passes before the drop down to Idaho. We’d gone over two of them before finding camp…I wasn’t particularly looking forward to them as they seemed to be an exercise in pushing my bike up a hill only to push it back down the other side.

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We descended from our perch on the hillside on rocky and rowdy trail. It was a perfect bikepacking tech level, rideable, yet challenging. I was feeling pretty good about the next climb, as instead of going straight up and over the ridge, it contoured around it. I was starting to think that my stitching job of my pride, energy, and motivation was going to hold. The fabric was starting to look a bit thin…

We rode by the lovely Slag-a-melt lakes. Had it been 20 degrees warmer out, the perfectly clear water would have been perfect for swimming. Instead, we climbed yet another pass. Or, Scott rode, I pushed. Same went for the other side.

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I started to unravel.

The trail was non-stop rocky from there on out. Awkward rocky. Frustrating rocky. To top it off, my experiment of trying to walk more flat footed instead of on my toes had led to a sore achilles. The legs and skills said no to pedaling. The ankle said no to walking.

Why were we here again?

Over the course of my bikepacking history, I’ve given myself permission to not enjoy every moment, but I did have to appreciate where I was and what I was doing. Appreciation was starting to waver.

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After an extended walking section, I finally caught Scott. “I think I’m done. This isn’t fun any more.”

I laid down on the side of the trail. Forget the afternoon storms that were building, I was napping. I awoke to thunder. Shit. I still didn’t want to pedal, but I also didn’t want to get soaked. It was a conundrum and I was ready to set the tarp up there and call it a day at 1pm.

“Don’t be mad,” Scott held up his phone. He’d taken a picture of a very dejected looking me and put it on the Facebook, saying encouragement needed. The comments section was filled with encouragement and I scrolled through them. I very nearly cried.

Yes, I’m tired. Yes, my body hurts. Yes, sometimes I question motivations, but those comments made a world of difference. I have the best friends in the world.

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We took off down the trail, knowing the storm was moving east and all we had to do was outrun it to the north. And we did!

From the top of the pass was one of the most stellar pieces of single track on the entire CDT. It had been reworked in recent years and was a beautifully constructed piece of contour trail snaking down into the valley.

Spirits were on the up.

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And then it started raining. We hid under the tarp for a while. Deciding we were going to exercise our bailout option tomorrow because of impending weather, we ate a bunch of food, as tomorrow should be a short day.

We kept riding, finishing the descent and starting the 1,500 foot climb back up to the divide. There were raspberries! Everywhere! We ate our fill, stopping often to pick a few tasty morsels off the plants.

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A new section of trail took us off the seemingly vertical road. Mercy singletrack, we called it. We thought we were winning at life until we turned a corner and saw black skies ahead of us. A clap of thunder confirmed the impending storm. First camp site we see, we take it, we decided. Unfortunately, we were on the side of a rather steep hill.

We rode up the hill as fast as we could, grateful for the new trail. As we reached the top of the pass and a flat camp spot, the rain started to come down. The tarp was up within minutes and we were huddled under it. The rain poured down for the better part of an hour as we made dams and drainage moats to keep the water our, cooked our dinner, and watched the clouds slowly clear out. The tarp did good.

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Tomorrow, we head back down to Wisdom. There’s 30 miles of trail that we’re skipping, but the weather forecast looks dire and I’m tired. We might come back up and day ride it from Wisdom. We may not. It’s our trip and we’ll do what we want to.