July 29, 2008
Day 78: Saint Mary, MT to Whitefish, MT
84.50 Miles, 6:59:02 Ride Time, 12.09 Average Speed, 28.43 Maximum Speed
I awoke to the coldest morning yet - my cheap sleeping bag really wasn't cutting it. It was finally chilly enough to wear the cold-weather cycling clothes I'd been carrying with me since Florida; until today they had been lying unused in the bottom of one of my panniers, as I carried them over literally thousands of miles. Now was their time to shine.
I was tired after yesterday's headwind and climbs, and didn't get out until after 8:00, a couple of hours after I intended. In a few miles I turned onto Going-to-the-Sun Road and entered Glacier National Park. The lady at the entrance booth was taking a bathroom break or something, and I could have ridden into the park without paying, but I dutifully waited for her to return to her post and collect the $12. I don't mind paying my fair share - just don't gouge me like they do in Babb, Montana.
I was almost immediately stunned by the awesomeness of Glacier. Everyone talks about how amazing the place is, but this is one time when it's not hype. It makes Yellowstone look like a sad, sad joke. The Tetons are great, but Glacier National Park is like the Tetons times 1000. What is odd is that I had never heard of the place until I started planning for this bike trip - I'm not sure if that is a testament to my ignorance, or if it is almost a well-kept-secret, at least in my part of the country.
The climb up to Logan Pass (6,664 feet) was actually pretty easy (at least from the east), and at the visitor center there I got to experience the novelty of walking in snow in July. Over at the "Logan Pass" sign, I spotted an older couple taking the picture of another bicyclist, a blond, fit-looking woman on an unloaded road bike. They agreed to take my picture as well, and seemed extremely impressed after I casually mentioned that I had ridden my bike from Florida; the blond woman seemed slightly irritated that the tourists were more impressed by my accomplishment, and started telling me about all the long rides and high mountain passes she had done in Colorado. I wasn't in the mood to listen to this, however, and started the long ride down.
I took the descent slow - the road was rough in places, there was traffic, and there was some road work underway. At the bottom I stopped at Lake McDonald, where I spent the next 3 1/2 hours. Cyclists aren't allowed on a nine mile stretch of Going-to-the-Sun Road from 11:00 to 4:00, so I was stuck for a while. (I had a tailwind, and it was mostly downhill, so I seriously contemplated riding quickly through the forbidden section anyway, but in the end I decided to play by the rules).
I spent the time in Lake McDonald eating a large pizza, then lying on a picnic table while closely observing some small gopher-like creatures who emitted "cheeping" noises that uncannily resembled the sound my bike had recently been making. I took this as a sign to perform one of my infrequent chain lubings.
Finally 4:00 rolled around, and I somewhat groggily got back on the bike to ride out of Glacier, and onto - WHAT - US 2? I thought I was done with the tiresome "High Line" that I grew so weary of in Eastern Montana. Fortunately the route soon put me on some nice back roads, with an exciting 2.6 mile section of rough, washboarded gravel, just to keep things interesting. (Another cyclist had told me that it was five miles long; it just felt that long.)
By the time I reached Columbia Falls, I was tired after riding into the wind, and so I stopped at a convenience store and tried the "energy drink" Red Bull for the first time - after all, it had seemed to work for Jordan yesterday.
The Red Bull did seem to work for a while, but it was getting late by the time I approached Whitefish (pop. 5,032), and as the headwind seemed to grow more severe, I made the nearly financially ruinous decision to stop there for the day. Whitefish is like Babb on a grand scale - a tourist town where, as has been noted by others, rich assholes from other parts of the country come to play. A room at the Holiday Inn Express cost $200, the almost-as-expensive Super 8 was full, and as it grew dark and I failed to find a place to camp, I settled on a room at the "cheaper" motel, which was still way outside of my usual price range.
Rather than annoyingly complain at length about this, I'll just say that it was the price I paid for getting to experience one of the great rides today.
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Today's ride: 85 miles (137 km)
Total: 5,709 miles (9,188 km)
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