We had a couple of food items to grab at Safeway as we rolled out of town on back streets but sooner than we would have liked we were on Highway 200. The 20 degree drop in temperature was welcome but left us with a bit of a strong breeze which was steadily inconsistent in direction as we followed 200 and the railway along the shore of Lake Pend Oreille. The K2 innkeeper Sheldon had told us 72 trains a day traveled this route. If Monday morning was any indication, he was correct.

ACA did its best to keep us off busy highways and on back roads, and we are grateful for their efforts. The first 90 minutes or so of Hwy 200 we were hugging the shoulders of Hwy 200. Once we got on the side road at the bridge over the Pack River, the noise and bustle disappeared and we were in an idyillic space.

We planned on commemorating the crossover into our native state from Idaho with a photo by the sign, but there was no sign! We were on the backroads after all. According to the map notes, we would know we were in Montana when the road changed abruptly, in this case from pavement to gravel. But, but, but. As native Montanans, we are well familiar with the different types of gravel roads. This one was hard packed with just a scattering of small gravel over smooth tracks that felt fine. We had wanted to stop in Heron for a burger or something but were mesmerized by the beautiful new bridge leading over the river and up the other side that we missed a turn that would bring us to Heron. And there were no signs.

We stopped at a driveway into a meadow just after the Hwy 56/Hwy 200 intersection to eat. It’s Murphy’s law that if you stop in a random driveway in the middle of nowhere SOMEONE will come along and need that space. A logging truck decided to drive through our impromptu picnic to pick up another load. He apparently did not get the message that it was bicyclist lunch time. Our peanut butter-dipped-in-the-jar bagles tasted good despite the dust raised from big wheels churning up the roadside.

We rolled into a private Two Rivers RV and Campground ready to call it a day. Other bloggers gave the place rave reviews, and we concur. Clean restrooms and laundry facilities, gracious host, but a few slag piles not yet burned as the owners cleared land for more camping spaces. Jackie pedaled back a half mile to the Big Sky Pantry on the highway to get beer and hotdogs. The pantry doesn’t stock beer, but it did have Oscar Mayer hotdogs and bags of ice, so she came back and improvised. Took the 2 warm beers brought from Sandpoint, stuck them in the waterproof handlebar bag with ice and water. By the time our camp was set up, beer was cold. We roasted the hotdogs pushed onto sticks and held over the open fire. Like when we were kids.

Speaking of kids, a truck full of 20-somethings pulled in about 5pm and erected their tents nearby. They would spend a week in the area planting trees in the Bull River Valley for the Montana Conservation Corps, an organization founded in the 90s And bolstered with funding secured by Montana governor Racicot. They were in bed when it got dark and headed out the next day about 8am. We cheer on all efforts to preserve beautiful nature.

Alas, no photos because of an iPhone malfunction.