Primarily because they ran Big Dorthy out of Helena in 1973.  Now the former brothel is home to The Windbag Saloon, which is the best restaurant we encountered on the ride.  Also because I think Montana means “crazy white man roads” in the Blackfeet language.  I really looked forward to Montana, but have to admit it was not my favorite riding.  I think the road engineers spent a little too much time at Big

Dorthy’s, or the commissioner of roads holds the statewide franchise for the sale of tires and shocks.

It didn’t help that the first half of the ride was shrouded in smoke, but these roads are ludicrous.  We pedaled up one road on the side of a mountain for quite some time and suddenly it just stopped.  Someone must have decided it was too expensive to maintain, so they dropped some boulders across it and declared it a trail for non-motorized vehicles.  I’m sure that justified the expense of building it in the first place.  After that I started seeing roads all over the place also cutoff by boulders.  Now you have to realize these boulders are immovable and there is no way around them, so the roads are inaccessible unless you happen to be on a mountain bike doing the GD.

For a little side-trip we rode to Logan Pass on the Going-to-the-Sun road in Glacier National Park.  It is a crazy road too, since it is covered by snow most of the year.  Basically it was built during the depression to keep people busy.  Much to Chuck’s chagrin I had problems with Glacier since it is not very bicycle friendly.  After riding to Logan Pass we had to stop half way down, because bikes are not allowed on the lower section (the only way out!) from 11AM to 4PM.  Luckily we flagged down a nice couple in a pick-up truck who shuttled our bikes to the bottom.

The road that took the cake though was up Fleecer’s ridge, or as the locals call it – John’s Road.  As local legend has it, to avoid the police some guy named John needed a route home after a night of drinking , so he built his own short cut.  There is not a lot I can say about it, but the man was a bit nutty and must have had good four wheel drive.  A picture paints a thousand words.  (Note that my bob trailer is empty in the picture.  Luckily it only required two trips up the mile long nightmare.)

Sorry about the lack of information and pictures, but we just arrived in Banff and are more concerned with celebrating than posting.  We will post more as soon as possible …

Or as Chuck would say, good ROP (Return On Pedaling.) The Wyoming roads have been the most friendly by far. Thanks to courteous drivers, wide shoulders and most importantly, rolling hills that let you gently glide down after a climb. Wyoming also has good ROI if you bought land before the oil and gas boom. We stopped at one dive motel who wanted $144 for a tiny room; there was only one room left thanks to all the oil workers in town. Another time we stopped at an RV park that was getting $600 a month for RV spots. Good time to own land in Wyoming.

Our first impression was not so favorable since we started in the Great Basin. If you’ve never been to the Great Basin, it’s tough to describe. Not because I can’t think of the proper adjectives, but because their aren’t enough adjectives to describe nothing. It’s basically a large flat area with a few cows roaming around. If you’ve ever been curious what the edge of the universe looks like, I think it would look a lot like the Great Basin, including the cows. There always seems to be a few cows wherever we go. I’ll tell you what, you really feel stupid when cows stare at you with expressions of bewilderment as you ride by.

The only thing the Great Basin has going for it are the Pronghorns, which are quite numerous and appeared to be as bored as we were. They would detect us way before we saw them and would run along side from a distance, even criss-crossing the road in front of us. Every once in awhile they would stop and look back at us dejectedly, as if to say, “why aren’t you chasing us?” The cocky little bastards seemed to know they are the fastest land mammal in North America.

Believe it or not we met several other people in the GB also doing the Great Divide (since that’s about the only reason to be there) including Eran from Israel. The first thing he said was, “this is so boring, I’m taking the first road out of here.” You know it’s bad when you travel thousands of miles to do the GD and decide to leave the route. We also met a lovely couple who did the ride nine years ago. We don’t have a picture since the gentleman was only wearing bikini briefs and neither Chuck or I had the gumption to request a photograph.

There are a lot of great things to say about Wyoming, but the highlight was definitely spending three nights in the Grand Teton National Park. Can anyone tell me what a Teton is?

Our friend Ivy met us there and took us for a demo ride in her company plane. We also went on an 11-hour hike where we saw marmots hanging around (at least we think it’s a marmot), a black bear and stalked a moose like moose-a-razzi.

We even found a little time to visit with some of Mr. Softie’s wilder relatives.

Another great thing about Wyoming is Jo-An and Dave Martin. The Martins operate the Aspen Meadows Bike Hostel, which is just a fancy name for their home. Several years ago they realized they lived in one of the few places where two major cross-country cycling routes intersect, the Great Divide and the Trans American. Also know as the Border-to-Border and Coast-to-Coast. Out of the goodness of their hearts they decided to open up their home to cyclists. Well I should say more than just open it up, because they invited us in like life-long friends, making us dinner and breakfast, and entertained us for the evening. They asked absolutely nothing in return.

Jo-An is from southern Illinois and Dave grew up on the south side of Chicago and oddly became a huge Cubs fan, so we hit it off when I noticed they were watching a baseball game and asked how the Cubs were doing in the playoff race. In an ironic it’s-a-small-world twist of fate they spend some of their summer in Chicago within a couple blocks of my house. We hope to return their kindness with a few outings at Wrigley Field and bike rides on the lake front. Cheers Dave and Jo-An!

Our time in Wyoming was also pleasant since we did not encounter any mechanicals or health issues. This good fortune also held true for Idaho. Of course we were only in Idaho for one night, so I don’t have a lot to say about it other than Ivy’s friend Mark has a tee-shirt that says reads, “Idaho? No, Udaho.”

Stay tuned for the next update from the Great Smokey Mountains of Montana … yes the Great Smokey Mountains.

Day 25 Del Norte to Storm King (June 16, 2007)
Kim and Mike’s hospitality and Casita in Del Norte were very welcoming but after our second night both Willy and I were itching to get rolling. We both felt about 80% and the mileage wasn’t that big for the day so we figured we could muscle through it since it seemed we were on the recovery. After a delicious serving of French Toast cooked by Kim’s brother in the Peace of Art Cafe and we were off.

The first few miles were on pavement but then the road turned “primitive” according to the cues on the map. This translated to very sandy and rocky. It sapped our energy quickly. But it didn’t put a damper on our adventurous spirit. A few miles off route was a rock formation known as La Ventana, a natural arch formation. It looked like there was another road we could on the map we could take to rejoin the main route so we hoped it might only be a mile diversion. La Ventana was not that spectacular. We almost missed it when we were standing right under it. And even worse the road we had hoped to take turned out to be a gnarly horse trail. We were forced to retrace our pedal strokes making for a four mile diversion on a day when we were already not at our best. And as we rode on I wasn’t feeling any better.

We encountered Kim and Mike on the road to our campground. They’d taken a day off from the store to explore the backcountry on their motocross bikes. We again said goodbye and Kim loaded us up with some more healthy snacks.

We had one final climb into the Storm King camp and it seemed to take forever. Willy had to wait for me several times as by now I was feeling 50% at best. When we got to camp Willy took care of all the camp duties while I rested. It was a great campsite but the only issue was someone had stolen the handle to water pump! A minor nuisance because it meant the water had to be treated. After a dinner of cold fried chicken we called it an early night.

Day 26 Storm King to Upper Dome Reservoir (June 17, 2007)
Last night was probably my best sleep in the tent so far on the trip. Again, being able to rest and sleep in a bit while Willy took care of everything made a huge difference. Willy feels fully recovered and I’m nearly there. We got a reasonably early start and figured we’d have the road to ourselves as it was Sunday, and Father’s Day.

About three miles into the day’s ride we learned otherwise. The road was covered with cows. There was a steep drop on one side of the road down to a creek and the slope up on the other side was equally steep. Encountering cows isn’t an uncommon occurrence and doesn’t really phase us any more. These cows didn’t seem any different than the other herds we’d met other than they were far more vocal.

We pushed on through yelling and making honking noises. A few of the cows passed us but most of them started to turn around and run back up the slope. The cows behind them kept coming down the road. Suddenly we saw why, at the top of the hill a bunch of ranchers rounded the corner on horses and motorcycles along with cowherding dogs and a truck and horse trailer. They were equally as surprised to see Willy and I and it explained why their noisy cows who had been fine on the cattle drive so far were suddenly going bezerk. Caught between us, down the road, and the ranchers, up the road, the cows took off in the only other possible directions — down the hill to the creek and up the hill to who knows what.

By this point we were off our bikes and pushing them on the side of the road. One of the ranchers was flailing her arms like we should get out of the way. With all the mechanicals and setbacks due to sickness the last thing we wanted was a delay in the trip because the bikes got trampled by cows. We patiently flattened ourselves and the bikes up against the hillside of the road and tried to fool the cows into thinking we weren’t there. The cows weren’t buying it. Finally one of the ranchers rode down on his horse and did an excellent job of restraining his temper as he asked us to just climb up on the slope. Hoping he knew best, we left our bikes and BOBs and climbed up the hill. These still shots of Willy making his way through the herd give you a good idea of how close we get to the cows. However, this video (small and large) shows the full extent of noise and chaos involved in herding cows. The cows have already settled down at this point because we’ve climbed up the hillside.

Apparently it was us and not the bikes which scared the cows. No sooner had we climbed out of the way than the cows resumed an orderly but noisy procession down the road. At least those cows which were still on the road. By this point most of the ranchers had ridden off into the woods to corral the wayward cows which had run away.

The ranchers passed without saying much and when we thought every cow, dog, rancher and truck had passed by we resumed the climb up the road. We weren’t sure what we should have done differently than get up on the hillside sooner. When you haul a BOB up steep gravel roads you certainly think twice about turning around and going down. We saw one last rancher coming down the hill and out of the woods with a lone cow. As he passed I said “Good Morning”. He was still caught up in the whole incident and his response wasn’t necessarily directed at me. Rather it was more a commentary on everything which had just transpired, but needless to say it wasn’t fit to be put in print here.

We had two big climbs we had to work at today. Our original goal was to stop at Luder’s Creek at the top of the second climb. We pulled in only to find the handle to the pump had been taken from this campsite too! Luckily there was a natural spring not far away so we filled up with water for the night and decided to push on a little further because it was still early and you always look forward to the downhill after a hard climb.

Unfortunately there was no enjoying this downhill. As we descended through a canyon we encountered a stiff headwind no matter which way we turned. It took serious pedaling effort to maintain 5mph down a hill on which we easily would have hit 20-25mph without a headwind. Had our friend Tom been riding with us I know he would’ve been shouting “Call Security! We’ve been robbed!”. It certainly felt that way. After such a long climb we felt entitled to at least a little bit of a rest and a coast down the hill.

We finally stopped at the Upper Dome Reservoir. It wasn’t much of a site. There were a few campers and RVs but it had been a long day and we were ready to stop. Willy and I ended up talking to the guys in two different campers and did the usual explaining of what we were up to. The guy I talked to had a martini and I was hoping if he took enough interest he might offer to make one for each of us. No such luck.

Willy on the other hand met Gene, a retired biologist for the State of Colorado and an avid cyclist. By the time I decided to cut bait and go see what Willy’s conversation had yielded Gene had suggested we pitch our tent next to his camper AND given Willy two Miller High Lifes. There was no turning down the Champagne of Beers after a long day. After a few minutes we let Gene resume fixing dinner for his wife and we headed off to setup the tent.

Tonight’s dinner menu consisted of “spicy hot dogs” Willy had found at the supermarket in Del Norte. Neither of us was in a rush to cook them especially with a beer in our hands and the smell of Gene’s Dutch oven nearby cooking chicken. So we sat in our camp chairs relaxing just a little bit longer.

Then the biggest surprise of the day walked around the corner. Gene had two plates loaded up with chicken and salad. He was also carrying two more beers and he was heading our way. Gene had extra ingredients so he’d cooked everything up to share with us. The meal was fantastic and a good way to end an eventful day. As we crawled into the tent we thought we might even watch the final episode of LOST which we’d gotten off of iTunes while we were in Del Norte. I fired up the laptop only to be greeted with “Finder/?” symbol — a Mac’s way of telling you there has been a hard drive failure. Add computers to our list of everything that is broken.

Day 27 Upper Dome Reservoir to Marshall Creek Pass (June 18, 2007)
We got a leisurely start the next morning after talking with Gene about bikes. We packed up and were about ready to roll out when Willy noticed his back tire was flat. As we were replacing the tube he also noticed one of his spokes was broken. The spoke was on the driveside so even though we had replacement spokes we didn’t have the tools to fix it. We cut the spoke out, changed the tube and were off.

Less than 10 miles into the day’s ride Willy’s tire went flat again. We were really looking forward to getting to Salida tomorrow because it was the first town with a bike shop since Silver City, New Mexico — more than 750 miles. We both planned to have our bikes completely tuned up so we could hopefully put all these mechanicals behind us.

We pushed on to the small town of Sargents for lunch. We had a tailwind so it made the 15 miles on a busy highway go quickly. At the cafe in Sargents there were flash road bikes lined up everywhere and we had to park around the corner. The whole cafe was clad in spandex when we walked in. It turns out a big week long road tour of cyclists from Indiana and Oregon had stopped here to eat lunch too. We exchanged all kinds of stories and were off again.

The afternoon ended with a big climb up Marshall Pass. The road was an old railroad bed (prior to that it had been a toll road for horse drawn wagons) which had since been converted to a forest road. Since trains generally can’t climb at more than a 4% grade it meant a long but consistent climb for us. We found the right gear and just pedaled.

About four miles from the summit we decided to call it a day in one of my favorite campsites so far. For dinner we prepared the spicy hot dogs we had planned to eat the evening before. They were terrible. I wasn’t even able to finish one. Willy powered through one and half but it definitely left our stomachs empty.

As we sat around the campfire trying to think of all the meals we’ve had in our lives which were worse than the spicy hot dogs (and there weren’t many) Willy’s luck wasn’t getting any better. An ember jumped out of the fire and burned right through his shorts and his inflatable chair/sleeping mattress. He broke out the patch kit and fixed yet another hole for the day. We quickly headed to bed hoping tomorrow would start off better.

Day 28 Marshall Creek Pass to Salida (June 19, 2007)
When retrieving water the night before Willy had told me to be prepared with the camera because there was a massive washout down the road. I hadn’t imagined anything quite as spectacular as we encountered. One of the culverts under the road had become clogged with branches and a stretch of road 100ft across had exploded and washed away downstream.

There was no option of riding around this obstacle. We removed the BOBs and proceeded as if we’d encountered a hike-a-bike section of a course in an adventure race. It only proved to be a 20 minute delay but it was an awesome show of the power of Mother Nature.

An hour later we were at the summit of Marshall Pass, and another Continental Divide Crossing.

Again, because the road had once been used by trains the descent was a nice ride through the forest without sudden drops or sharp curves. It really was an enjoyable ride all the way to the highway where we had to pedal the last few miles into the town of Salida.

We hadn’t even had a chance to get off the bikes in Salida when I knew we’d be spending some time here. This place wasn’t anything like Pie Town or Grants. There were people out and about. The downtown was thriving. The people of the town had built a riverside park along the Arkansas River and a white water kayak course in it. I knew I would have traded all of our rest days so far just to spend one rest day here.

The first stop was Absolute Bikes. It was time to get the bikes tuned up and get all these mechanicals behind us. When the head mechanic, Scot, heard we were doing the GDMBR he made sure we were taken care of. He knew we were on a timetable and he knew how much we depend on our bikes so he had his work schedule cleared so he could tune them up himself. Now that’s service!

While the bikes were getting tuned up we got cleaned up. I found a place in Steamboat Springs who could fix the laptop by the time we got there in a week if I shipped it ahead. We bought supplies for the next few days. All of our clothes were freshly laundered. Amica’s, the local brewpub and pizzeria took care of those hunger pangs from the lousy dinner the night before. It seemed all of our in-town errands were done in a flash and like we had really found our groove.

When Scot called to tell us the bikes were ready we stopped by to grab them and told him to meet us for a beer when Absolute Bikes closed that evening. We agreed to meet at a great looking little restaurant Willy and I had seen earlier in the day. It turns out the owners were originally from Chicago. They had pictures of Chicago throughout the place and even the bar would have fit in an old corner neighborhood bar back home. We ate dinner and had a round of microbrews with Scot. It felt like we could have been at The Map Room back home. Everything was comfortable and felt right.

At the end of the night we were a bit sad because we had taken care of everything we needed to in town and we felt pretty good. It only made sense to press on in the morning if we didn’t need a rest day. We splurged on a hotel that evening but as we drifted off to sleep we made a mental note to return to Salida again sometime soon.

WiFi access has been extremely difficult to come by over the past two weeks so we haven’t been able to post many updates. We got sidetracked in Macks Inn, Idaho today when we found an RV park offering WiFi. We quickly downloaded email and hit the road again because we had 30+ miles to go and it was late afternoon.

As I browsed through ~200 emails one stood out in particular which came from Garmin (maker of all of our GPS/navigation gadgets). We were chosen as this week’s winner in their Summer Adventure contest. Welcome to any new readers following the GDMBR adventure after discovering it on the Garmin site. You can read the announcement here and see all the winners so far here. We’ll have to wait a few more weeks to see if we’re the grand prize winners.

There should be a few new posts coming in the upcoming days. My posts will pick up where the last post left off (just before Willy broke his elbow) and continue the narrative of our adventure. I’ve started adding dates for each day to avoid any confusion. Willy’s posts are usually posted closer to the time actual events occurred and tend to provide a summary for an entire state.

Also, since WiFi spots can be infrequent we try to always update the Latest Stats section of the header any time we have access. Even if there isn’t time to publish a post we’ll make sure the statistics are updated and show where we’re at.

The trip is going great since we’ve resumed. We’re putting in some big miles and seeing some beautiful places. Stay tuned for more details!