Today was a tired day. Tired days are okay as long as you realize that they’ll pass. Luckily, it was only a half day of riding, but I have to admit to asking Scott at least a half dozen times what time it was in the last two hours of riding. So it goes, he was having a tired day too.
I maybe kept us up a little bit too late watching Shark Week and I don’t think either of us slept super well. I definitely woke up anxious about if we’d make it to the border before the weather turned to winter. It really is an absurd worry because we can’t ride trail north of Lincoln, and we’ll most likely be in Lincoln in under two weeks, so unless it starts to snow the first week in September, which I fully realize it could, we’re going to be okay. Still, hanging around hikers who were definitely feeling the push of winter raised my fretting level.
We woke up late, Jan’s for breakfast. We discussed the possibility of staying another day. The weather said unsettled for another 24 hours and Scott thought he might be able to find us a more graceful route to Butte. But within 20 minutes of going back to the room, we decided to go. Sun was shining, time’s a wasting.
Leaving town is never easy, especially so if you weren’t 100% committed to leaving the day before. We still needed to re-up our trail food, get our box mailed, and tie up loose internet ends.
Out of the room by 11, resupplied by noon, fed from the sub shop by 1. Time to boogie.
The plan was to ride the Great Divide Route north for 36 miles and then get back on the CDT at Morrison Lake. It’s a lovely little section of GDMBR with minimal traffic and beautiful canyon views.
We met a GDMBR rider at the turn off to Morrison Lake. It was his second time down the spine and was getting ready to set up camp to wait for his buddy, who he estimated was several hours behind. They were on a 100 day schedule with each forth day off. He had pork chops in his BOB trailer and was looking for wood to BBQ it over. I was a little jealous as we were loaded to the gills with food not quite as luxurious as pork chops.
We climbed up to Morrison Lake somehow, as neither of us really felt like climbing. Once back on the CDT, it went straight to hike-a-bike. The headphones went straight in because hike-a-bikes are now referred to as dance parties.
Scott’s ridden this section and described it as a roller coaster. It really was. Up and down and back up again. Many of the ups were ridable, others were meant for dancing.
We rode until 7:30 when we hit the edge of a nice grove of trees and could see that our tree choices would be limited for the next while. A flat spot nearby sealed the deal. We watched a gorgeous sunset to the west while watching a lightning storm to the east. The tarp is up. It definitely looks like the moisture is moving out, which is good as we have 100 more miles to Jackson, 85 of those on trail. We packed three-ish days of food. We’ll see if it lasts.