June 30, 2006
Townsend, MT - Whitehall, MT: A memorable day - thanks, Jake!
The guys were very nice to let me off of breakfast duty. The cooks were supposed to hang around and clean up after everyone ate breakfast and fixed their lunch. Tom was understanding of my concern to get on the road with a longer mileage day and offered to take my place. Tom was a fast, strong rider. He always started near the end and over took everyone.
I slipped off after eating hot oatmeal rather than cold. The advantage to being the cook was starting the water warming up early.
Ryan soon caught up with me and we made a detour over a one lane bridge into Toston hoping to find water. Toston had a very small post office and no commercial buildings at all. The bar back at the intersection of the highway was of course, closed so early in the morning. The clerk at the post office very kindly filled our camelbaks for us.
The terrain was rolling uphills with a slight headwind. We had miles and miles of green wheat fields around us.
We seldom rode together in groups, but six or seven of us happened to stop at the Wheat Montana Farms for a photo shot. I think this was the only time the entire trip that we had more than 2-3 riders stopped together. Mostly we were very spread out depending on hour of departure, cycling speed, and number of photo stops.
At mile 31 we discovered the Wheat Montana Bakery. Oh, what a find! It was a busy, busy place. They had many kinds of baked good, soup, sandwiches, freshly ground flour, and cookbooks. Had I been in a car, I would have put a dent in my credit card. As it was I avoided the bakery goods and had a sandwich. I tried to talk our cooks into buying Wheat Montana bread for the next days lunch. I even offered to carry it. They didn't seem to think having such yummy bread would be worth the trouble of buying it so early in the day. We sat around for quite awhile at the picnic tables outside. I went back in for several refills of ice to chill my water. Before leaving I carried in my Camelbak and filled it to the brim with ice. During the trip I was on occasion very naughty to rattle my ice filled Camelbak in front of the water bottle drinkers. My ice would last all day in the insulated bag while the ice in their water bottles melted quickly.
I ended up taking off alone to continue the ride. The uphill wasn't as obvious after the rest break. I don't know if the terrain had really leveled off, or if it was the rest and the congenial company.
I stopped several times and checked my bicycle. I kept hearing a thump, thump noise, but couldn't see a problem. Tom caught up with me and helped me look my bike over. He noticed a very slight bulge in the sidewall, but it really didn't look bad. I had new tires on for the trip and didn't have a spare. I crossed my fingers and continued on down the road.
We stopped at the Lewis and Clark Caverns State Park to use the restroom and top off our water. We agreed it would have been nice to spend the night there. Then we would have had time to explore the caverns. I examined my bike further, the thump, thump seemed louder. Hind sight is always 20/20. I should have stopped then and booted the tire to keep the bulge from worsening. To 'boot' a tire you place something thin and strong (dollar bill, piece of kevlar shipping bag, strong plastic) between the tube and the weak spot in the tire.
It was quite warm compared to the cold days early in the trip. I stopped at a convenience store at the intersection of the highway and drank a cold Gatorade and read the newspaper. Reading the newspaper is a big part of my daily routine at home. I frequently stopped somewhere during the day's ride to take a break and read the local paper.
I was two miles from Whitehall when my tire gave out with a loud bang. Luckily I only had two miles to walk and the campground was on my side of town.
Ryan was visible at the rear of the small campground. It was really a small RV park and the owner said we could set our tents up on the gravel. Ryan was sitting at one picnic table and I was telling him my tale of woe when Bob pulled up next to the neighboring picnic table and took his helmet, etc. off putting them down on the picnic table. That was all it took for the elderly gentleman in his RV to come outside. He announced in a loud voice that we were using his picnic table (Bob moved his stuff) and we had better not cut into his phone or TV lines or he would call the police. ??? He was "Jake from Whitehall, MT United States and we had better know he wouldn't take any of that hippie shit . . ." He just went on and on. Ryan said, "Yes, sir, yes, sir." and we tried to ignore him, but Jake wasn't to be ignored. I finally went to the office and asked the lady if she could help us out. Her solution was to move us to the little patch of lawn at the front of the RV Park right next to the highway. She also had several small hotel rooms. Three of the guys went together and rented a room. We squashed our tents into the front area. The restrooms were around back, but at least we were away from Jake. The advantage for the cooks was the hotel room had a little kitchenette and a sink to wash dishes in.
After the excitement with Jake, Ryan tried booting my tire with a Parks brand boot that recumbent John volunteered and a generous application of Robert's duct tape. Hopefully that would get me to Dillon where we had a rest day. There was a bicycle shop listed on our maps. I called to see if they had a spare 26" slick tire. Yes, he had a 'near slick'. That was good. I had been plotting to have Jacinto overnight me a spare tire. Now I could buy one in Dillon. Joe, from the bike shop, had actually closed the shop and was working out of his home. He gave me his cell number in case I didn't make it to town.
I had cell phone reception again that night and had quite a story to tell Jacinto with the tire blow out and Jake.
I hadn't seen any of Townsend since we were camped on the edge of town. As I left town early the next morning I saw a quilt store (a hobby of mine)and an old one screen movie theatre, still operating. Townsend looked like my kind of place, a one horse town. It would be pretty hard to get lost there. Smoker John's hobby was to check out the hardware store in each town. He said you can tell alot about the town by the hardware store. He gave this one a thumb's up. However, the general appearance of the town was pretty shabby.
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Today's ride: 62 miles (100 km)
Total: 191 miles (307 km)
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