0721 - A fabulous day - Rejuvenation? Or Last Hurrah?

July 21, 2022

0721 - A fabulous day

It's hard to think how to improve on it

THE EVENING SHADOWS were beginning to lengthen and creep across U.S. 93, and the 95 degree temperature had already begun to abate noticeably, as I pulled into the USFS campground a few miles short of Sula, MT. It's small (only 10 sites) but beautifully kept. And the best part is, one of the sites is explicitly designated for exclusive use by bicyclists.

Site No. 5, reserved exclusively for bike bums like me.

The dedicated site, as well as the brand new picnic table and fire ring, and soon-to-be-installed bearproof food container, are all due to the efforts of Mike, campground host extraordinaire. The site is directly across from him, so he can keep an eye out for us and make life as easy as possible. Thanks ever so much, Mike!

U.S. 93 was my constant companion today, starting in Missoula and working down through Hamilton and Darby before arriving a couple miles short of Sula. It will also be the road I start on, tomorrow morning.

Up early, I left my Warm Showers host (thanks again, Emma! I really enjoyed our time together.) before she was stirring. I was in search of coffee and breakfast, and an ATM if convenient since my ready cash had begun to run short.

Emma's place is just off the Bitterroot Trail, a dedicated bike route that runs from Missoula to Hamilton. After a couple false starts and misdirections from Google (they're not infallible after all; who knew?) I found a Starbucks look-alike place that took care of my pre-ride caffeination and food needs.

Then it was on to the Bitterroot trail. I had followed it in the opposite direction two days earlier, on my way in to Missoula. Now it would help me leave. It runs right next to U.S. 93, but with a hard buffer separating bikes from motor vehicles. That's a good thing, because for virtually the entire 45 mile stretch U.S. 93 is a very busy monster, with a speed limit of 70 mph.

Even though the highway has a wide shoulder in the areas around Missoula, it would be nerve-wracking to ride there with a constant stream of high-speed traffic whizzing by just a few feet away. Even with the separation the traffic noise was such that it was difficult to relax and enjoy the riding.

The many faces of U.S. 93. For many miles coming south from Missoula, it's a four-lane divided highway. Definitely good to be separated from it when riding a bike.

Sometimes the separation is nothing more than a Jersey wall, while at others there's a grassy median.

As you get farther south the traffic thins out a little, but the separation remains essential.

In compensation, the Bitterroot Trail has some pleasant amenities to offer.

For example there's this interesting and not unattractive graffiti-mural making a pun on the city's name.

Encouragement for riders heading into the city.

If you should experience an unexpected emergency, they have you covered.

This rustic bench is sited at a point that overlooks the river, giving one an opportunity to pause and reflect.

This is the view from the bench. Lovely, isn't it?

It is, of course, not entirely free of other hazards.

Pretty sure I know who's to blame for that one.

Had I known about this place I might not have dawdled so long in Missoula.

Glen's Cafe stands a few more miles down the road, advancing the bold claim "We're famous for our pies." Oh yeah? We're going to have to see about that.

That's guaranteed to be successful bait for a bicycle tourist.

It's a nice little cafe. The many cars parked in front gave me a good feeling about what to expect.

So did this sign, posted on the front door.

Inside, there were clearly a number of regular clientele in attendance.

The kitchen area is in full view and was very busy, in an orderly sort of way.

Glen, according to the pleasant woman who took care of me, is 92 and still runs his own ranch. His wife (or daughter? I don't recall which, now) has been making the pies for upwards of 30 years.

The raspberry pie, served warmed and a la mode, disappeared somehow, before I could get a photo of it so you'll just have to take my word for it: Glen's is not just making an idle, unsubstantiated boast. They aren't wrong.

The Bitterroot Mountains begin to appear a few miles out of Missoula. They're still well off in the distance and there's plenty of open space in front of them at this point. As well as other things.

Even at this distance they're pretty spectacular.

Along the way there are a few, but not an overwhelming number of, roadside historical information signs. Of course I had to stop for them.

Learn to speak the native language! It's fun! It's easy! (or not.)

More vocabulary. Doesn't rise to the richness of Shakespeare, but this is presumably only the smallest of samples.

In addition to the native language signboards, a few other items caught my eye as I headed toward Hamilton.

Who doesn't love massively oversized roosters?

I wonder about how active the trading space is for stoves? But at least the brothers have an apt name.

Spotted from across the highway. I was in no mood to take my life into my hands by crossing to try for a better shot. "May the forest be with you."

Apparently this turned into a ghost town before the advertised renovation could happen. Or maybe the renovation *was* to turn it into a ghost town.

I was curious about the round structure. A barn of some sort, presumably?

Continuing south, I began to feel like my long breakfast stop had cost me an hour's worth of cool-temperature riding. Mercifully, the temperature didn't immediately jump to "brutally, incineratingly hot", only to "rather warm".

Still, the ride was going quite well and I reached Hamilton by about 1300. It had been my intention to stop there, but with lots of daylight left and my legs still feeling pretty good I decided to press on, taking the easy miles when they were offered and shortening what would have been quite a long day (with a big climb) tomorrow.

Darby, the next town down the road, was fifteen miles away, and Sula another 18 beyond that. There were also a number of Forest Service campgrounds along the way, so I felt confident that I was not about to maroon myself between oases.

But first, lunch. Hamilton has stretched and sprawled to the north along U.S. 93, and the Bitterroot Trail deteriorated to a badly-laid sidewalk between the businesses and the highway. The TransAm therefore crosses the highway and makes use of the older residential streets in town, leading to the tidy and compact business district. I found The Filling Station, a great cafe with a gas station memorabilia theme as the decor. (When orders came up, there's even the long-gone "ding ding" that was ubiquitous in the days of full-service stations. It had never occurred to me that that sound is now virtually extinct in "the wild" until I heard it in the cafe today.)

As I sat I noticed a pair of couples giving Odysseus a more-than-usual thorough inspection before they entered the restaurant. When they came in, they inquired of the hostess as to the owner, and were directed my way. After an abbreviated session of the UQs, they revealed the reason for their interest: one couple had taken their Bike Fridays on a round-the-world tour sometime previously.

They were especially aware of the pros and cons of panniers-versus-suitcase trailer, and we had a nice conversation. (Should you happen to have begun reading the journal, I want you to know I really enjoyed our chat.)

Back on the road around 1420 the Bitterroot Trail came to an end, putting me on what passes for the shoulder of U.S. 93.

Not much room to work with, thanks to the rumble strip. In other places there's absolutely zero shoulder: the fog line lies at the very edge of the pavement. Thankfully by this point the traffic volume was low enough that it became practicable to simply pull off and wait when an overtaking vehicle was drawing near, in cases where there was also either an oncoming one or a limited sight line.

There's not a lot to tell about the stretch from Hamilton to Darby, nor many pictures to illustrate it because I had shifted into "get there" mode and didn't want to slow myself down with photo stops.

Reaching Darby by 1600 I stopped at the grocery store in Darby to reload my water supply, and had a brief chat with a local gent who owns a nearby ranch. He told me about a kid he'd met sometime back, attempting to ride a unicycle from I forget where to New Orleans. In western Montana, in November. They'd strongly encouraged the kid to reconsider, but he persisted. Later that day they went out looking for him, and also advised the Sheriff to be on the lookout for him, but that was the last anyone ever saw or heard of him, apparently.

Still feeling pretty good, and with some daylight left, I elected to press on toward Sula. My motivation? Tomorrow comes the climb up Lost Trail / Chief Joseph pass. I wanted to get as close to the base of the climb today as I could, so that I can take maximum advantage of the cool morning conditions tomorrow when I tackle the climb.

There were a few scenes along the way that basically demanded a photo stop.

I also saw a few tepees, which I assume are replicas.

In the end, I stopped about three miles short of Sula (a one-building "town", it seems). Having tried (unsuccessfully) several times to reach the RV park there by phone, when I reached the two USFS campgrounds it was an easy decision to pack it in for the night. The only issue: which one to choose?

Hmmmmmm, which one do I choose? "Warm Springs" has promise as a name, but it adds four more miles to both today and tomorrow.

Ding ding ding! We have a winner! Spring Gulch is immediately off the highway.

The view of the cliffs on the opposite side of the stream that borders the campground. They were lovely in the evening sunlight.

In addition to the friendly campground host, I enjoyed chatting briefly with the couple in the site next to him. Then it was time to make dinner, get cleaned up, hang my food (it's bear country), and turn in for the night. I'd done 81 miles and felt good for having carved many miles out of what looked to be a longish day tomorrow.

Heart

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Charmaine RuppoltWow, long riding day for you! Good job!!
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2 years ago

Dana PalmerLong day!
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2 years ago

Today's ride: 81 miles (130 km)
Total: 792 miles (1,275 km)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	9
Comment on this entry	Comment	9

Linda SearsI am so enjoying your blogs! And I love your pictures. It sounds like your overall endurance has already improved since the beginning of the ride. I still have a vivid memory of dad driving us through the Bitterroot mountains. I remember dramatic drop offs, no guard rails, steep. I can't imagine cycling through that. Good luck. Linda
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2 years ago

Keith AdamsTo Linda SearsThanks Linda! It's really great to get comments. The scenery has been fantastic and traffic mostly a non-issue. I do try to not get too close to the edge, generally.
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2 years ago

Nancy GrahamI am in awe that you can put in so many miles in the day and also include not only great photos, but a thorough and interesting journal entry about your day!! I am enjoying your blog a lot.
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2 years ago

Scott Adams81 miles of almost entirely uphill grade is impressive!! You must be getting fitter. I look forward to reading the blog daily, or whenever posted! Ditto Nancy Graham's comments on that.
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2 years ago

Keith AdamsTo Nancy GrahamThanks!
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2 years ago

Keith AdamsTo Scott AdamsIt really didn't seem uphill. A gain of 1,000 feet over 80 miles almost amounts to noise in the data.
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2 years ago

Kelly IniguezWe took two days to ride from Sula to Missoula! Look at you, turning into the touring beast!
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2 years ago

Keith AdamsYeah but I felt like it was mildly downhill the whole way.

Still nowhere near Jacinto's class, I assure you.

And had I not had a hotel reservation in West Yellowstone looming on the 25th I'd almost certainly have cut it shorter.
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2 years ago

June EakinKeith, loving your blog! I’ve spent the last week catching up. This day’s 81 miles and an entry- wow!. Mark and I just returned from 5 weeks in 5 places in Europe that included a short bout of Covid.
Your photos of the west remind me of our trips years ago (car).
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2 years ago