On August 30th, 2007 we completed our ride on the GDMBR when we completed our own 40 mile route extension and pedaled to the shore of Lake Louise.

Sadly, it is more than a month later and I’m just getting around to publishing an update saying we made it. It is amazing how crazy and hectic life can be in Chicago when you’re unemployed. (Just ask Willy, he seems to have made a career out of it.) Between the Cubs run for the post-season (and less than stellar performance therein), nice weather in Chicago, catching up with friends and family and starting work at Orbitz again I can make up plenty of excuses for the delay.

However, the honest truth is, riding the GDMBR took a lot out of me. Riding a bike from dawn until dusk towing a trailer on crazy roads which seem to exist for no reason, while all consuming, does get old after 73 days. We saw new landscapes each day and they grew progressively more beautiful the further north we went. But the routine certainly was starting to get monotonous: wake up, make oatmeal, take down camp and pack trailer, pedal… You get the picture. I’d be willing to wager neither Willy or I eat instant oatmeal for at least a year.

All that being said, I think the lack of motivation around a final post was very specific to just that, a final post. To write it here is to really acknowledge the trip is complete. While I’m really excited to get back into a normal routine and I’m tremendously proud of our accomplishment I do find it a bit sad to know the ride really is over.

It was an incredible three months of riding. I originally set out to ride the GDMBR for a variety of reasons:

• I’ve always marveled at people, like my friend James, who hike the Appalachian Trail. But I’m more of a biker than a backpacker. Bikepacking the GDMBR seemed like the perfect combination of an epic journey which could be undertaken from the (relative) comfort of a bike.
• I wanted to ride the GDMBR before it got too popular. Probably fewer than a 1,000 people have through biked the route and I wanted to count myself amongst them.
• I love the rugged beauty of the Rocky Mountains. What better way to see some of the most beautiful parts of our country than from behind the handlebars of a mountain bike?
• A desire to prolong going back to work after having spent the prior three months in South America.
• I enjoy physical exertion. The GDMBR seemed like it would test my endurance.

All are legitimate reasons in my mind. We definitely cycled through spectacular scenery and our slender waists speak to the exertion. However, the thing I walk away from the ride cherishing most are none of those things.

Rather, the most memorable part of the trip for me was the people. Shortly in to the trip we added the Rideabout Shout Outs tab to acknowledge people we met. For those who followed the trials and tribulations of the ride you know what we went through, especially early on. Personally, it seems like we had more than our fair share of bad luck and mechanicals when I read other’s accounts of riding the route. But it was because of those hardships we met so many generous, caring and very interesting people. While I have had trouble motivating myself to write this post I had no problem finishing up the Shout Out tab so take a look and meet some of the people we encountered.

Seeing the headlines at Google News or watching the often depressing coverage on the local TV news it becomes all to easy to focus on the negative things happening in our world. While it may sound cheezy, I think the biggest thing I take away from the trip is nothing less than a restored faith in humanity. Good people are all around us. I know it because they are the ones who made this trip possible but even more importantly made it so enjoyable. Thank you very much to everyone listed on the Shout Out page. We would not have made it without you!

Many people have told me how they enjoyed living vicariously through our updates on the site. While not everyone has the opportunity or desire to take three months and embark on a journey like Willy and I did it doesn’t mean you can’t become a chapter in someone else’s story. People all over the world are on journey’s similar to the “2007 Chilly Bike Ride”. Regular, everyday people just like you helped make our trip time and time again when they simply asked what we were up to or inquired to make sure everything was okay. Take the time to stop when you see a cyclist or hiker carrying a load. I certainly know I will. Chances are they’re just stopping to take a break. Maybe they could use a drink of water or directions. But I’m sure they are on a journey every bit as interesting as ours and even if they don’t have a website and shout out page rest assured you’ll end in the stories they share with others as they recount their travels.

I’d like to give one final Shout Out: Willy

Willy and I met 10 years ago working together at Swiss Bank. Since then we’ve trekked in Nepal and biked in Ireland to name but a few of our adventures. When we haven’t been out adventuring together we’ve been at one of our local haunts enjoying life in Chicago )and often plotting our next adventure). By the time we got to Lake Louise we were both ready for some time apart. However, I kind of think that is to be expected after 73 days of spending almost every waking moment pedaling 3,100 miles together (and sleeping moments in the same tent or hotel room). Not many people would consider embarking on a trip like this one and there are even fewer I’d consider asking to do it with me. But Willy is amongst those few and I’d ask him to do it again (although knowing what we know now I’m not sure what he’d say). Just as the people we met made the trip so memorable having a good friend like Willy along to experience it with me is a key component of what made the ride so enjoyable. Thanks Willy!

Finally, thanks to everyone who followed our journey and encouraged us along the way!  Stay tuned for at least one more post with the final stats for the trip.

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