July 30, 2013
My Own Personal Rainbow Festival
Flathead National Forest (North Dickey Lake Campground)
I hung around the town of Eureka this morning waiting for the public library to open at 11:00. (I don't haul a laptop around with me, so I rely on library computers for updating my journal.) The Eureka library had a grand total of two (2!) computers for public use so I was lucky to get there as soon as the doors opened in order to beat the rush to use them. On the other computer immediately to my right was a pretty, 20-something woman with multiple earrings and long, tightly-braided hair. She was typing almost as furiously as I was for an hour until the gestapo-like librarian came by to tell me my allotted computer time was up. I quickly finished up my work.
Outside, a young guy named Tony, who I can only describe as "hippy-like," came up to me and introduced himself. He asked about my trip and I was happy to relate a few details. Then I noticed a heavily loaded bike leaning against the library wall.
"Is that your bike?" I asked.
"No, that's my girlfriend's bike. She's still inside."
It didn't take me long to figure out who his girlfriend was based on his appearance and the appearance of the girl who was at the computer next to me.
"My bike broke down and I ditched it about a hundred miles back," he continued, seeming to notice that I only saw one bike. "I've been hitchhiking from town to town and meeting up with her that way."
"Where are you guys headed," was my next question.
"We're going to British Columbia for the Rainbow Festival. Have you heard of it?"
"No," I shook my head, "I'm afraid I haven't."
"Well, it's just a bunch of hippies from all over the world, gathering in the woods and celebrating peace and love."
"That's cool," I said. "When I was younger I kinda thought of myself as a hippie, of sorts."
"Man, it's all right HERE," he replied as he clutched his chest with both hands over his heart. Tears seemed to well up in his eyes. "You've still got it. I KNOW you do."
"Yeah, I think you're right," I lied.
Before we parted he wished me luck and urged me to be safe. He seemed so sincere. When I started cycling away from Eureka I wished so badly that I was a hippy on my way to British Columbia. Really, I did.
Since it was almost noon, I decided to make it an easy day and rode a measly 17 miles to North Dickey Lake. When I got to the campground I had my own personal Rainbow Festival, celebrating peace and love with a "Going to the Sun IPA"--a craft beer brewed in nearby Whitefish, Montana. Then I had another one. Then another.
I have always loved National Forest campgrounds. They are simple, not overly managed, and usually near a lake or river with some redeeming scenic qualities. My wildlife for the day included one deer and an osprey. Three times since I left Washington I have seen tall poles that have been placed near lakes and rivers specifically for ospreys to build nests upon. Twice, those fish-eating hawks just chirped at me repeatedly when I stopped to have a look. But today, the mother (I assume) left her nest and charged toward me to assure that I moved along. I did.
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Today's ride: 17 miles (27 km)
Total: 578 miles (930 km)
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