July 25, 2006
Day 54: Darby, MT to Missoula, MT
70.58 Miles, 5:04:19 Ride Time, 14.24 Average Speed, 28.7 Maximum Speed
Last night, the motorcyclists and I had talked about when we would be leaving in the morning. They told me they liked to get out early, and, not wanting to look like a slacker, I quickly agreed that I, too, would be up at dawn. As usual, however, I wasn't riding out until 7:30-ish. As I rode away, I saw the motorcyclists sitting in the restaurant, drinking their coffee. Apparently their plans didn't work out either...
I continued riding where I left off yesterday, on US 93, which wasn't too busy yet. Still, when I arrived in Hamilton (pop. 3,705) after 13 miles, I was relieved to turn onto Eastside Highway, a more rural road, where I spent the rest of the morning.
The ride through the now-widening Bitterroot Valley was very nice; the sky was cloudless as I passed by green, irrigated farmland. There was apparently a fire in the mountains to my left; I could see (but not smell) wisps of smoke.
I stopped at Casey's Store for a late breakfast, where the two ladies there warned me about the smoke from the fires. Although I would see a little smoke for the next couple of hours, it never bothered me.
I rode through a couple of small towns, Corvallis and Stevensville, before my route took me back to a now-busy US 93, at the town of Florence. Luckily, the first 8.5 miles to Missoula, my destination for the day, were on a bike path which ran parallel to US 93. It was now midday, and very hot; not surprisingly, I didn't see a single cyclist on the path.
The bike path ended at a convenience store in Lolo (pop. 3,388), where I stopped for a Gatorade and bathroom break. The girl behind the counter had the by now familiar questions about what I was doing, where I was going, etc. She was nice, and wished me luck.
The eight miles to Missoula on the very busy US 93 weren't much fun; it was mostly a slight downhill, but the shoulder was full of the usual crap - broken glass, torn-up tires (which contain flat-causing tiny pieces of wire), etc.
At the outskirts of Missoula, I turned onto Miller Creek Road, and rode five miles through the city to my destination, the Adventure Cycling headquarters. Missoula, a college town, seemed more bike-friendly than usual, and was easy to ride in.
As I rode slightly uphill through the university section of town, I was passed by a college girl, pink backpack and all, riding a fat-tired hybrid-type bike (one obviously not built for speed). What?! And I had been satisfied with my 14 mph pace...
As I got closer to Adventure Cycling's headquarters, I spotted a loaded touring bike, and flagged down the rider. It was Xeno, an 18 year-old who was riding from his home in Ithaca, NY to Portland, Oregon, where he would soon be starting college. He told me he was camping every night, and (first time I had heard this on the trip), had not eaten in a restaurant once on his trip. Now, that's roughing it, I thought...
We rode together the last mile or so to Adventure Cycling, and discussed our trips; he was doing what sounded like a modified Northern Tier route, with a little bit of the Lewis and Clark trail. In addition to his all-camping, all-cooking regimen, he was also doing longer days than me. I certainly didn't remember being that energetic when I was 18 years old...
We arrived at Adventure Cycling, makers of the invaluable maps I've been using on the trip, and were greeted by the friendly people there. After taking a Polaroid of each of us (reminiscent of the Cookie Lady - I wonder which of them started this tradition), they showed us the cyclist's lounge, complete with free ice cream, soda pop, and internet access.
I hung around a while, checking out the memorabilia, including some cool old bikes. I decided to get a motel close by, and chose the Holiday Inn, which was just a few blocks down the street. This would normally have been out of my price range, but I got the decent Adventure Cycling discount.
After I checked into my room, showered, and changed clothes, I had dinner at the hotel's restaurant. It was pretty lousy... from the overheard conversations of the waiters, I learned that there was apparently some turmoil at the hotel related to a sale to a new owner, and the temporary loss of the restaurant's liquor license. I regretted not walking downtown and finding something better for dinner. Oh well...
I went back to my room, washed clothes in the sink (a routine that I will not miss when this trip is over), and looked over my maps, trying to decide on a destination for tomorrow. This was one of the tougher sections for a committed motel-stayer like me - There was a 66 mile section between the towns of Powell, Idaho and Lowell, Idaho with no services at all. It would be either a short day or a long day tomorrow. I decided I would see how I felt in the morning before making a decision.
I had enjoyed my time in Montana, but I went to bed with a sense of anticipation, looking forward to reaching Idaho, state #9.
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Today's ride: 71 miles (114 km)
Total: 3,434 miles (5,526 km)
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