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.

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 …

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.

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.

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!

Upon arriving in Salida we went straight to Absolute Bikes to say hi to the awesome staff and pick up our gear. Of course Scot, mechanic extraordinaire, insisted we stay at his place and graciously offered to drive us up to the Monarch Crest Trail the next morning to get a warm- up ride in before heading up the infamous hill where I tumbled over my handlebars.

All in all things went well and we decided to hit the GDMBR that afternoon since we were so anxious to hit the trail. I made it up the hill (barely) and down the hill without incident.  We took the time to photograph the scene of the accident, but of course our camera malfunctioned.

Now the only thing to contend with was the weather. We’ve had rain almost every day in the two weeks we’ve been back. Some of it nasty enough to keep us in the tent for hours. As Chuck said, “I’ll gladly trade the mechanicals for weather.” I agreed. Famous last words.

Despite the rain we made it to some awesome Colorado towns, including Breckenridge, Frisco and Steamboat. The latter is where we met Bill Gamber the owner of BAP and Big Agnes Tents. While planning the trip Bill came through for us by going out of his way to ship us the Emerald Mountain SL3 Tent, which has proven to be one of our best pieces of gear. At the time he also offered us a beer and a shower when we rode through Steamboat. Boy did he get more than he bargained for.

It all started with him offering to let us camp in front the BAP store for two days while we took a rest day (that’s Bill in the middle). It was right downtown so we had access to everything we wanted, including the Hurricanes at SunPies. These were the main cause of the extra night in town.

After a good night’s rest we headed out of town for some gnarly trail. Even by the GD standards this was to be one of our harder days. We lived through it and found a nice campsite about 20 miles from the Wyoming border. We were finally going to make it out of Colorado. Not. The next morning I made it about .7 miles and I heard a rubbing sound from my rear tire. Usually an easy thing to deal with, but not this time. I fractured another joint; luckily this time it was on the bike, not me.

The frame near the rear dropout (where the wheel attaches) cracked in half. Once again Chuck had to ride back to the nearest town and save the day. Of course it couldn’t be easy. Steamboat was busy and there were no rental cars available. He went by BAP and Bill, THE NICEST GUY IN THE WORLD, insisted Chuck use his car to go pick me and the gear up. He also insisted we stay at his place for the night.

We felt so guilty about relying on him for so much we ended up checking into a hotel at 11PM and returned one very muddy car. Remember the rain?

The next morning we headed over to Steamboat Ski & Bike Kare to get the bad news on how long it would take to fix. I can’t imagine any bike shop keeping a rear triangle for a HiFi Pro in stock, which was true for Steamboat Ski & Bike Kare. Luckily we met Derek , the store manager. He said normally this would have to be sent back to Trek, but I happen to ride a HiFi Pro and we’ll take the part off my bike. Can you believe it? I couldn’t.

Not only that, they warrantied everything and got us out within a couple of hours. We really wanted to head back to Sunpies, but had no excuse for not hitting the trail. Which we did and of course it rained on us, but neither of us could have been happier. I’m also happy to say we’ve made it out of Colorado and into Wyoming. Stay tuned for more adventures …

Then we heard Joe’s voice outside the tent, “Chuck. Willy. Clara’s making sausage biscuits. When you’re ready to get up come on over.” I think we were up, dressed and at the door to Joe and Clara’s RV in about three minutes. We certainly weren’t going to turn down this invitation.

The biscuits hit the spot and Clara packaged up some extras so we’d have a snack for the road. We had a leisurely breakfast enjoying more stories about Joe’s days of coaching. Willy and I had to decide if we were going to push on or hang out a day longer. Joe was going to head to Antonito in his truck later in the day and offered to take us with him so we could replenish our supplies at the grocery store.

However, the sun started to shine and the owners of the campground told us we would be in for a treat with terrific hamburgers at our next stop, Platoro. After the long day of riding yesterday only to find the grocery store was closed we decided to call ahead and make sure the general store and lodge in Platoro were open. They assured us they would be open and so it was we decided to push on.

It was after 1pm by the time we rolled out of the campground but since we only had 20, relatively flat miles to go we weren’t concerned. Especially after the long day yesterday we were happy to mosey along. The riding was relatively uneventful. We passed the usual cows and it was quite chilly so we were happy to arrive in Platoro and find the Skyline Lodge with a roaring fire.

Platoro shuts down completely in the winter. For a few short months in the summer about 150 people come to live there mainly as outfitters and guides taking tourists fishing and horseback riding.

The Skyline was indeed open and they had tasty burgers, soft beds and WiFi.  But the best part might have been sitting around the largest fireplace hearth I’ve ever seen.  It had started to drizzle during the last two miles so it was a great way to warm up.

It also seemed a perfect way to prepare for tomorrow: the ride over Indiana Pass, the highest point on the entire route.

Day 22: Platoro to Del Norte
We took off in the morning after eating a breakfast and a half to make sure we’d have enough energy for the day. We bought a few supplies at the general store and the generous staff at the Skyline Lodge sent us off with two huge ziploc bags of peach and cherry cobbler.

The road out of Platoro went up and up and up. But around each turn there were great views looking back into Platoro or across the way to a brilliant colored mountains filled with all kinds of minerals.

The people at the Skyline had warned us that they had been four-wheeling halfway up our route just a few days prior and there were still massive snowbanks. They also warned us of a Santa Claus looking character who was shoveling the snow so he could get across the pass. A couple of hours into the ride we saw there hadn’t been much change in the last few days. We talked with the old man and he watched us push through a snowbank which was about a quarter mile long. We encountered several more snow banks on our way to the top of the pass but luckily most of them were only 50 to 100 feet long and only a foot or two deep.

Odd man shoveling the pass by hand	Snow makes for slow going

We’d had to fill up with at the Skyline Lodge before leaving because all sources of water for the first half of the day were contaminated and unsafe for drinking. This was in part because the heavy metals which made the mountains shine with shades of red and orange also naturally contaminated the water. But it was also in large part because of the presence of an old mine which had operated without any sort of environmental restrictions. Today it is an EPA Superfund Site. We stopped for a quick picture and to take in the massive scarring from the mining operations.

We stopped for a quick lunch of biscuits and cobbler but pushed on to the summit. The last mile took a lot out of us but we reached the top of Indiana Pass and were just seven feet shy of 12,000 feet. We stopped for a quick summit picture and then headed down the other side for a nice 25 mile descent.

The first order of business when we arrived in Del Norte was to stop at the bike store and pick up our shipment of replacement tires and sealant from Stan’s. We pedaled through town following the GPS’s directions to the shop and couldn’t believe what we saw when it told us to stop. There indeed was the town bike store, but in the front window was a handwritten sign saying the store would be closed while the owner was on vacation until the next week. We’d hoped our luck would change in Colorado but so far it was more of the same — everything was closed.

After eating dinner we found the only place in town with WiFi. Of course by this time it was closed. We needed to get in touch with Stan’s so we sat outside on the sidewalk poaching WiFi and drinking a beer from a brown bag. We looked like complete vagrants. We saw a biker ride through town and a few minutes later a support vehicle followed. A few minutes later more bikers and support vans. It turned out RAAM (Race Across AMerica) was coming through Del Norte that night.  These guys mightbe on pavement but they ride from the Pacific to the Atlantic coast in just seven days. We stayed up cheering the racers on until we decided it was time to deal with the immediate problem at hand: In the frustration of finding the bike store closed we had put off finding a place to camp.

It just so happened a police officer pulled up to the little station across the street from where we were sitting. Our map said it was permissible to camp in the city park if you first checked in with the police. I walked across the road to talk with the officer and after a few calls we were cleared. As long as we agreed to be packed up by 9am we had our choice of places to camp along the Rio Grande in the Del Norte Riverwalk Park.

It had been a long, hard day of riding so we set up our tent in the darkest spot we could find and easily drifted off to sleep.

Days 23 and 24: Sick in Del Norte

The next morning we awoke just as easily if not more abruptly. Little did we know when we pitched the tent that the city park had an automatic sprinkler system. At 6am it went off. Luckily we had put the fly on our Big Agnes tent the night before. If we tried to get out and move the tent everything would get wet. So we sat and let the tent take a beating for 45 minutes.

When the sprinkler did finally stop we were awake so we took down the tent and started to figure out how we could get around the problem of tires. Actually, Willy put together a plan. I was feeling sicker by the minute so on the same bench on Main Street where we had sat the night before I laid and writhed as I tried to calm my stomach and wished for my headache to go away.

By lunchtime Willy had put together a plan with the guys at Stan’s, UPS and several other store owners in town and it looked like we’d be able to intercept the shipment. We flagged down every UPS truck which came through town but the answer was always that it would be on the next truck. I never saw the truck. At lunch I was so sick the owners of the little cafe where we were eating just checked us in to their “casita”.

I stumbled in and don’t remember anything which happened over the next 24 hours other than waking up in the middle of the night and thinking it was a good thing the ER was less than a quarter mile away because if I started to feel any worse I was going to admit myself.

About 4am my fever broke and the change was stupendous. I felt like I was ready to get back on the bike. When I stepped out to the family room where Willy had crashed on the futon. He didn’t look good. We waited a few hours to see if he improved but it was pretty obvious we were going to be spending another day in Del Norte while Willy recovered.

During our recovery time Willy and I each got to know Mike and Kim, the owners of La Casita Bonita where we were staying. They had a an organic grocery store, a little cafe and the casita. Mike and Kim definitely earned a shout out after helping nurse us to recovery with plenty of delicious natural food and organic ginger drinks. They took great care of us and their little apartment was the perfect place to recover. I’m sure had we been in the tent we would have needed at least another day to recover.

After hearing about our ride Kim and Mike have a special for other GDMBR riders. Stay in the La Casita Bonita and they’ll throw in a delicious breakfast at their cafe in the morning. Just tell them you’re riding the GDMBR and please be sure to tell them Hi from Chuck and Willy.

In the saddle again
Just can’t wait to get in the saddle again
The life I love is ridin’ bikes with my friends
And I can’t wait to get in the saddle again

I think that pretty well sums up how we feel. We spent a little more than three weeks back in Chicago Willy’s arm is feeling better. After we climb the 14 miles out of Salida we’ll pick up the ride exactly where we left off.

Look for more updates and pictures from the trail to be coming soon…

Woke up this morning and Willy and I agreed we had the best night’s sleep thus far since we’ve been on the bike. We headed over to the cafeteria and had a portion of eggs and bacon which was smaller than either of us would’ve liked. Smart move on the school’s part because I think we would’ve cleaned out the buffet entirely between both of us had it been self-serve. It is amazing how much you can eat when you’re on the bike all day. And when someone else is cooking and it isn’t food you’ve had to carry in a BOB for several days it seems like you can eat even more.

Before leaving El Rito we made another stop at the US Post Office to mail home more extraneous gear. I think we’re finally down to the bare essentials.

We headed out of El Rito and at the first fork in the road we had the option of going right on a nicely paved road or heading straight on a rutted out dirt road. Without looking at a map, we knew which way to head. And so began another day in the saddle. It was a very warm and humid morning so we were glad to leave the desert scrub bushes behind as we climbed and into a forest of conifer trees which at least gave us a little shade.

When you read about the GDMBR on the ACA website they give some basic statistics on the surface of the road making up the route:

• 85% dirt road
• 14% paved road
• 1% singletrack

We knew going in to the ride having such a large portion of the route follow unpaved dirt roads would make for some difficult going and we were up to the challenge. However, I don’t think we anticipated the wide range of roads in various conditions which can be categorized as dirt or unpaved. We’ve seen smooth hard pack dirt, rutted dirt (but luckily it has been hard and dry and not wet and muddy), washboard (makes for a bone and tooth jarring ride), gravel, sand and more. Sometimes the road is wide, other times it is really narrow and sometimes just a two track jeep trail. It definitely forces us to keep our eyes open and when we’re not talking about food, conversation often turns to how good or bad of condition the road is in.

Sometimes the road is rocky	Sometimes it is washboarded

As the sun rose higher in the sky it seemed to be more humid than any other day so far. We knew the town of Vallecitos was coming up so we planned to stop and have lunch there. As we rolled into town we realized this was one of those places time had forgotten and most of the residents had abandoned. The few homes which showed signs of life had yards full broken down cars and rusted out appliances. The school and church looked like they hadn’t seen use in years. I’m pretty sure the Postmaster General has never made a visit to this post office. We sat on the stoop, ate our lunch and talked to a few of the residents who stopped in to get their mail.

There wasn’t a single compelling reason to hang out in Vallecitos any longer than we needed to. And as the air continued to get more humid, the sky began to darken and we could hear thunder in the distance we had plenty of reason to get back on the bikes as soon as possible.

We pedaled through Canon Plaza, another small outpost town with no outward signs of activity. The temperature was starting to drop quickly now. As we headed up a mountain pass the wind started to pick up and the thunder sounded much closer. A drizzle started as we crested a hill and we agreed it might be a good idea to pull off and wait out the storm. It looked to be a fast moving front so we guessed it wouldn’t be that long. We headed down the hill a bit to avoid any opportunity to be a human lightning rod and sought some shelter behind some low shrubs.

After 20 minutes it became obvious our hopes of having the storm blow over wouldn’t be realized. We hopped on the bikes agreeing to stop at the first decent looking campsite so we could pitch the tent. We hadn’t pedaled 100m before the sky opened up. About one mile further down the hill we found a nice open area by Canada del Oso, a small creek crossing. The downpour was picking up but we setup our Big Agnes tent in record time. We were glad to have splurged on the optional vestibule extension because we were able to easily get all of gear in out of the rain without having to haul wet BOB bags into the area of the tent where we sleep.

The storm continued for several hours and we passed the time by napping. When it finally let up we were able to make a campfire and after a bit of a search find some clean water for a tasty dinner of Ramen noodles. After dinner we took some notes, downloaded the GPS data for the day and looked at the maps. Everything pointed to not making nearly as much mileage as we had planned for the day when we had bought supplies in Abiquiu. We had some extra food but at this rate we’d run out before we could resupply. We agreed to get up early and eat breakfast on the road in the morning so we could put in some serious mileage.

Day 19: Canada de Oso to Rio San Antonio

This morning we ate PowerBars as we took down camp and were on the bikes by 6:45am. It was still really cold. We usually wait for the sun to start hitting camp so the dew on the tent can dry off (and let’s face it, we’re both night owls and not really early risers). We had a sizable climb to start the day but it still took a while to get warmed up.

We met a father-son pair of ranchers out repairing a fence on their land. The son is the fourth generation of the family to run the ranch and he had to be in his late 50’s. It was interesting to talk with them about growing up in this part of the country and all the changes they’ve seen in the ranching industry and in life in general. The father who had to be in his 80’s and didn’t show any signs of letting up when it came to work on the ranch had a real sense of humor. He told us he “built the little house he was born in” just up the road. Working a small family ranch makes for a hard life but it seemed rewarding and fulfilling to these two.

Knowing they had a long day of hard labor in front of them working on the fence we pedaled on. It quickly became apparent we were going to have an extremely long day in front of us if the road conditions didn’t improve. The road hadn’t yet dried out from yesterday’s storm and the mud was thick. It seemed to dry like quick set cement. By the time I got to the top of the hill I was completely spent. I turned around and realized the wheel on my BOB was so caked in mud it hadn’t turned for the last 200m. I had literally been dragging the BOB as I struggled to stay on the bike in the slippery mud. Scratch that earlier comment about luck and not seeing any mud!

I pulled off the road to begin the process of mud cake removal. When Willy crested the hill he was going slow but didn’t seem to have the mud build up I had encountered. I wasn’t able to even go 10m before my BOB wheel had seized again. We had to stop and pick out all the mud again and then take off my fender. Not that I was wishing any more bad luck or difficult times on Willy but I was somewhat happy when a half mile down the road he hit some of the cement like mud and his wheels stopped spinning too. We cleaned the bikes off and then pushed them through grassy fields trying to steer clear of the sticky mud as much as possible. Now we understood how the severe rutting we had seen in the road came about. At points the tracks from the 4×4 ranching trucks were on the grass too because the mud was just too deep and sticky on the road.

We had to push for a little over a mile and it was slow going. We’d woken up early so we could get some extra miles but we weren’t clicking them off very quickly and we were famished from not having our usual oatmeal. We agreed to push on until we reached the summit where the map said there was a nice picnic area next to Hopewell Lake.

At Hopewell, the campground was full and we met lots of families interested in hearing about the ride. They pointed us to the picnic area where there were great shelters with huge tables to get away from the sun. After a lunch of cheese and crackers Willy had his traditional after-lunch nap.

The afternoon was fairly uneventful. Immediately after Hopewell there was a paved downhill where I broke 45mph. As much as Willy hates uphills he hates these short little downhills even more. They accomplish nothing other than dropping precious feet on the altimeter which we know we’ll have to make up later in the day.

Shortly after we turned back on to a forest road I came across a Horned Toad sunning himself. He let me get relatively close and I was able to get a decent picture. I have to say I think the most disappointing aspect of the trip so far is the lack of wildlife we’ve seen (seeing cows lost it’s novelty many miles ago). We also encountered a group of nine people on motocross bikes following the route from North to South. They had broken it into two segments and were planning to ride half of the route this summer and the other half next summer.

In the later afternoon we were both pretty spent and so we stopped to make camp at the first place we found water, the Rio San Antonio. It was a nice campsite very close to the river. Considering how early we’d woken up in an effort to make up some miles finishing the day at just under 38 seemed a little disappointing. However, when I looked at the elevation profile I saw we’d done some serious climbing (over 4,000ft) and had reason to feel so tired.

The bigger concern was if we’d make it all the way to Horca, Colorado tomorrow. Our options if we didn’t make it to Horca were limited. Either we could go hungry or we could hope a steakhouse shown on our map which was only 40 miles away would be open. The map said the restaurant was open six days a week, closed on Monday. Tonight was Sunday. Just our luck. But we figured we could camp outside the restaurant and eat our last pack of Ramen and then the next morning we’d wake up and have a big steak and egg breakfast. Thanks to the unexpectedly short day yesterday we were low on rations but at least we had a plan.

Day 20: Rio San Antonio to Horca, Colorado
We ate the last of our oatmeal for breakfast and set out to make Horca, Colorado fueled by trail mix and PowerBars. Once we finish this batch of PowerBars I don’t think we’ll touch them again for the rest of the ride. But today it was about all we had available to us without having to stop and get out the stove. So off to Horca we pedaled under a beautiful blue sky.

Today’s route profile looked tough. Not only was it almost 50 miles to get to Horca but we had about 4,500ft of climbing culminating in a gnarly traverse of the Brazos Ridge, one of the most blogged about sections of the trail. Throughout the day we encountered a number of downed trees which the USFS had not yet had time to clear. Luckily the group of motocross riders we saw yesterday had worn some paths around the trees which made our going a little bit easier as we traced their tracks instead of portaging bikes and trailers.

We stopped only briefly to choke down a PowerBar for lunch. The sky was again beginning to look very ominous and we heard thunder rumbling in the distance. Not wanting to get stuck in the rain we pushed on hoping to stay in front of the storm. We knew we’d be slow for early part of the afternoon because we’d be making the final climb to the Brazos Ridge. The Brazos Ridge is a very rugged and exposed section of the route and also is the highest section of the route in New Mexico at almost 11,000ft.

As we approached 10,800ft I stopped for water and a funny exchange took place:

“We’re getting close to the summit.” I said in between slurps of Gatorade from my water bottle.

“Not close enough!” Willy responded in a tone much more sour than I had expected.

“What’s your altimeter read?” I inquired a bit baffled by why he wasn’t more excited our climbing would soon be done for the day and guessing maybe there was a discrepancy in his altimeter.

“Only 10,795ft. Not high enough.” came the curt response.

Between the three GPS units we carry there is normally a delta of at least 50 feet so I was surprised when he was within 5 feet of my reading. It didn’t make any sense. Figuring he was just feeling low on energy since we hadn’t eaten much I tried to offer some optimism and said “Well we should be able to knock off these 200 feet in under 10 minutes.”

“Great. Then we’ll only have a little more than a thousand feet until we reach the highpoint for the day. I’m excited.” in that sarcastic voice anyone who knows Willy has heard.

“No! Not a thousand more feet. Only 200 and we’re done for the day! No more big climbs. You must be confused. We don’t hit 12,000 feet until the day after tomorrow!” I responded excited to have figured out why Willy was so un-energetic. In all the talk about the climbing in the upcoming days he had mistakenly thought today was the highest point of the whole ride and not just in New Mexico which was over a 1,000ft difference.

Suddenly Willy had a new lease on life. He had a smile and you’d have thought I had just removed 20 pounds from his BOB. The last 200 feet was quite steep and made for some tough granny gear grinding but that Twizzler’s tasted even sweeter when we got to the top.

Happy to be at the highest point of the GDMBR in New Mexico

We saw our first patch of snow today at just over 10,000ft. We thought heading into the middle of June snow banks would be an uncommon occurrence. However, just a few miles later as we crested the summit we realized snow was not just a novelty but something we’d need to be seriously concerned about as a bank was completely covering our road!

Even though a storm was blowing in and we had only covered half of the mileage for the day we stuck to our agreement from when we set out that we’d take every opportunity to stop and enjoy the views, people and anything else we encountered. When this trip ends we’ll have accomplished riding 2,700 miles from Mexico to Banff. But we’ll have experienced so much more. So instead of worrying about the road over Brazos Pass suddenly becoming impassable we stopped to make a snowman.

We took a 15 minute break constructing Mr. Softie and making him pose for pictures. We paid attention to all the little details like finding equal sized rocks for his eyes, a pine branch which was shaped like a smile and making a perfectly proportioned body. The original plan had been for Mr. Softie to pose with the little picture Willy keeps in view at all times in his handlebar bag. On one side there is a picture of Paula and on the other a picture of a beach in Jamaica with “April 2008″ written on it as a reminder of the wedding next year. By the time Mr. Softie’s photo shoot came to an end we had a whole portfolio of snowman pictures.

Mr. Softie riding the GDMBR	Mr. Softie navigating the GDMBR	The GDMBR isn’t for softies

A loud thunder clap reminded us we had almost 25 miles to Horca so we quickly hopped on the bikes and found a road which skirted the massive snow bank and rejoined the route about a mile later.

“Closed until Thursday. Sorry for any inconvenience. See you then!”

New Mexico was supposed to be closed. In fact I expected this kind of thing in New Mexico. But we were in Colorado! I was ravenous. I had been hallucinating about hamburgers over those last eight miles. At one point I honestly imagined myself walking into a Fuddrucker’s when I got to Horca. This wasn’t an inconvenience — it was a disaster! And it was only Monday. How were we going to get supplies to continue if they didn’t open until Thursday?

While Willy tried to call Paula from a nearby pay phone I stumbled aimlessly around the parking lot in a famished stupor. Several trucks pulled in and parked but I told them everything was closed. The first few people responded “Oh well. Off to Antonito for dinner.” Maybe Antonito wasn’t that far away I thought. When the next truck pulled in we went through the same exchange, except I hesitantly asked how far Antonito was. I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was when the response came back “20 miles or so”.

The couple in the truck were from Texas and I explained the ride we were doing and the situation we were in. They told me about a campground with a little store just a mile or so down the road. It mainly sold fishing tackle and catered to the fly fishermen staying at the campground but they thought we could at least buy a few Snickers bars there.

A half hour later Willy and I had agreed the campground was really our only option. We didn’t have enough energy to ride further. There weren’t any other stores in Horca. It was starting to get dark and we were cold. Just over a mile down Highway 17 we found the Ponderosa RV Park. I think the woman running the register was a tad scared when we came in, asked for a tent site, practically emptied all of her candy on to the counter and then asked if she had any other food for purchase.

As the only tenters in the campground we had our pick of the tent sites. The sky was still looking like it might open up and downpour so we quickly setup the tent as we dug into our dinner of Twizzlers, Mounds, Snickers and other sweets which would make a dentist cringe. I fully expected to go from bonk, to major sugar high and finally to an all out sugar crash in the next 30 minutes.

But before that could happen the guy from the truck in the parking lot who told us about the campground walked into our campsite. He introduced himself as Joe Bush and said his wife Clara was making cheese omelettes in their RV and we were invited to come over for dinner.

We accepted their invitation immediately. After getting cleaned up we knocked on the door of Joe and Clara’s RV and were in for the start of a great evening — and not just because of the delicious omelettes or Negro Modelo beer Clara served up. We had a relaxing dinner and thoroughly enjoyed sitting on a couch, sharing stories and hearing about their adventures now that they were retired. A shout out goes out to Joe and Clara for helping us out when we really needed it and didn’t have many options available to us. We’ve got more about Joe, Clara and their dog Stella in an upcoming post.

New Mexico in the Rear View Mirror

We’re finally out of New Mexico, and not a moment too soon in our eyes. Here’s a few random thoughts I have looking back on New Mexico:

• Want to get a bad cycling tan and fast? New Mexico is the place to ride. There’s no shade and the sun is really intense. Interestingly enough New Mexico is a lot higher than I expected. For most of the ride we were near or above the elevation of Denver.
• People in New Mexico love their Green Chiles. I find them tasty and flavorful but they seem to be in everything but ice cream and I’m sure that it’s there too but we just weren’t looking hard enough.
• There are a lot more cows in the US Forest Service lands than I would have expected. Honestly, there’s more cows in all of New Mexico than I expected.
• We’ll have to see how this holds as we cross other states but you can generally tell how much space a person is going to give you based on the kind of car they drive:
  • Subaru drivers always seem to be polite and give you a whole lane or slow down and drive behind you until they can pass with a full lane’s width.
  • Mini-vans are usually just about as friendly as a Subaru driver. The exception seems to be when Dad is sometimes driving the family grocery getter he doesn’t typically give as much way as Mom does.
  • SUVs are a toss-up. If it is a rental then they usually give a fair amount of clearance. Those driving an SUV they own might just give half a lane of space.
  • Pick-up trucks are the worst at showing any respect for cyclists. In particular it seems to be people who drive white pick-up trucks feel like they shouldn’t have to share the road. If it is a white pick-up with a gun rack or louvered window slats then they don’t seem to budge an inch and you have to fight for any little bit of the road you’re using.

Some of you might have already noticed the new tab named Rideabout Shout Outs at the top of the page. We’ve met a lot of great people on our ride who we wanted to acknowledge and we plan to do that by giving them a “Shout Out”. We’ll add to the Shout Out page as we meet people but we’ll also link to it from the usual posts and signal it with a megaphone icon (). We’ve met several people deserving Shout Outs already, most notably Dede who really helped us out as recapped in this post and as Willy detailed in his “New Mexico is Closed” post.

Day 15: Cuba to Private Cabins Area

As might be expected we were slow to get moving this morning after the birthday celebration at El Brunos. The WiFi at the hotel had stopped working entirely overnight so as you can imagine we were two perturbed and groggy geeks. In addition to the virtual tasks we’d hoped to complete online while we were back in civilization we had a number of errands to run and things to take care of in the physical world.

We called Stan at No Tubes and he went out of his way to accommodate us. He said he had only seen this manufacturing defect on Willy’s tire once before. He said he would send out two new tires and some sealant for us. The next town of any size we’d encounter would be Del Norte. He told us not to worry and he’d take care of getting everything sent to the local bike store there so we’d have it when we arrived. Great customer service from these guys. Coordinating a package delivery in a strange town was the last thing we wanted to be doing.

After breakfast we took care of all the usual “in-town” errands like groceries and refilling the camp stove bottles with white gas. We were slow to get moving out of town and it wasn’t because Willy was any older or because of our friend Don. It was an incredibly windy day and I think we were both putting off the inevitable. Finally we pointed our handlebars out of town and up a big 9-mile paved climb. It took all we could to muster a constant 5mph into the wind as we headed out of town.

Only a few miles into the ride it seemed like a good reason to stop when we saw two guys on tricked out Moots mountain bikes towing BOBs southbound. Steve and Matt were completing a five year effort of section biking the GDMBR. One of their BOB trailers was in pretty bad shape (they’d stopped to have it welded back together earlier in the trip) and they were going to order a new one in Cuba. We got out maps and exchanged information. We told them where to find water in the desert and they told us about some campsites with good water sources over the next few days. It was great to meet someone else doing the ride. They told us there was a group of almost 10 people headed northbound about four days in front of us which explained all the cairns we’d seen.

They also asked if we’d seen the two older ladies (In their 60s!) who were a few days in front of them. We hadn’t but from now on I’d stop and think about these two women before I’d open my mouth to complain about how hot/steep/washboarded the riding was. It really is fantastic to hear about all the different kinds of people inspired to ride their bikes on the Great Divide Route. I think our personal favorite is the couple in their 50’s who rode the route with fully loaded panniers AND BOB trailers. All of their gear was in their panniers and they were towing their terriers in the BOBs. They certainly wouldn’t have survived a day of riding with Willy because he would have classified both dogs and BOBs as extraneous weight with a very low weight to reward ratio.

Eventually we had to get back to the task at hand. While we were tempted to turn around and head back to Cuba and have a beer with Steve and Matt, we knew we had to pedal on. That’s when the real problems began.

Willy was now using a tube in his rear tire until we got the shipment from Stan. So of course he got two flat tires. Now his bike was making a racket every time he tried to shift and the low gears were virtually unusable which was unacceptable for the climbing we were doing. We spent more than two hours on the roadside making adjustments and finally settled on getting it shift in a passable state, which I really wouldn’t even classify as “good enough”. This didn’t make for a happy Willy. A second pair of GDMBR section bikers stopped to make sure everything was okay. It was nice to finally see some other people on the route. With all the mechanical problems we’ve been having I’d begun to think this whole thing was a cruel joke setup for suckers like us.

The frustrations continued as I made our first navigational error of the trip. I missed a turn off and didn’t realize until 0.7 miles later. Of course it was all uphill to get back to the junction. We stopped at the first place we could and had lunch. Willy had a great idea in the store that morning to pick up fried chicken. It was a welcome reprieve from dry tuna sandwiches or cheese and crackers and it tasted delicious.

The wind picked up as we were eating lunch and we heard cracking noises in the forest. When we hopped back on the bikes we saw what the cracking noise was all about. We were in the middle of a pretty serious windstorm and trees were being blow down left and right. Sometimes we could drag the bikes over them and other times we could ride around but often we had to detach the BOBs and portage over the downed trees. It made for slow going until we finally stopped at a nice area Steve and Matt had suggested that morning.

It had been a long day of riding but once we got a nice campfire going and got some food in us we agreed this was one of the best campsites yet, if only that pesky wind would stop blowing.