ALL INDICATIONS WERE that I was about to be offered a ride. A silver minivan had passed by as I stood on the side of the road, looking at what I hoped was the top of the climb of the big hill between Virginia City and Ennis, MT. The van passed then slowed, made a U turn and returned, hazard lights blinking. The driver rolled down his window. "Are you okay?"
I assured him I was, and that I was just taking a breather before continuing to the top of the hill.
"Do you want a ride?"
I have decided that whenever someone spontaneously and generously offers a ride to the top of a long hill, especially late in the day as it was in this case, my answer will always be "YES, please, and Thank You!"
My road angels today: Cameron, Lorie, Sorayah, and Shannon.
This happy, outgoing family are on a three-week vacation, so their van was already pretty well filled with their own gear. Still, they gleefully rearranged themselves and their luggage, and with a bit of creative shoehorning managed to squeeze my gear, Odysseus, and me into their adventure.
We went over the top (I really had almost made it on my own) and then down the other side. I had been concerned about the descent, a long and steep one that would certainly have tested my brakes and patience. (Odysseus is not fitted with disc brakes; rim brakes must be managed very carefully on long steep drops lest the pads melt or, worse, the rims overheat and blow a tire off the rim. I've had that happen, once, and it was one of the scariest moments I've ever had on a bike.)
We talked about their trip, and mine, and about the huge plume of smoke off to the south from one of the many fires going in the wider area at the moment. Alas, my camera was not in reach so I have only a less dramatic shot.
The puffy clouds are partly concealed by a layer of forest fire smoke underneath them. On the other side of the hill the base of the plume was clearly visible, and I'm pretty certain it emanated from Mordor.
Safely down the hill, my rescuers deposited me at my lodging for the night, the Riverside Motel in Ennis. This is yet another of the old-fashioned "motor court" type of places I've come to prefer. The original units are basically duplex "cottages", although there's a newer block of rooms in a "ranch house" style as well.
I had selected the Riverside only a couple hours earlier, while taking a rest break in Virginia City. The Adventure Cycling maps I'm using have extensive reference information on the non-map sides, detailing lodging, camping, food, and other services of especial interest to the touring cyclist. I'd called ahead to confirm they had a spot for me (it's fishing season, as well as general vacation season, so it can be something of a crap shoot as to availability. Best to check in advance rather than just showing up and hoping for the best.)
When I called, Bethany assured me they had a room for me. "I may be out of the office when you get here. I'll leave Room 5 open for you. Go ahead and move in, make yourself comfortable. I'll be back this evening; you can come find me and settle up then." That's not the sort of treatment you can expect when staying at national chain motels with computerized keycard access.
Anna, on the left, and Bethany pretty much run the show at The Riverside. We had a very pleasant half-hour natter that evening. You gals rock!
I'd left the Best Western in Dillon around 0700, knowing that I needed to get at least as far as Virginia City and preferably all the way to Ennis, to take miles off of the following day. The first 25 miles passed easily, drifting down MT 41 toward Twin Bridges.
Beaverhead Rock, so called because when viewed from a certain angle it looks like the head of a swimming beaver. I didn't immediately see it but after reading the information placards it became apparent.
Keith AdamsTo Scott AndersonYeah, well, imagination is not something I am always good at. I could see it when I was closer but not at a distance. It's pretty clear in this shot, though. Reply to this comment 2 years ago
Scott AndersonTo Keith AdamsSorry. Just giving you a hard time. I wouldn’t have noticed that either without a prompt. Reply to this comment 2 years ago
At one overlook, there was this attractive sculpture of Sandhill cranes. The ranch right around Beaverhead Rock, Beaverhead Ranch, is particularly concerned with preserving and sustainably using the wetlands in the area. Good on them.
I stopped in Twin Bridges to reload my water supply, and picked up a banana and a nectarine in the local market. I elected to take a long break, and ate the nectarine right away because I didn't figure several hours of being bumped around in my handlebar bag would do it any good.
Robber's Roost: the local Sheriff was in cahoots with a local gang of brigands, who robbed travelers. They were wiped out after a while by a group of local vigilantes. I think I've seen that exact plot in several B grade western movies and old TV serials.
Another ten miles or so down (actually, UP) the road I reached Nevada City and then Virginia City. These are two towns set up as tourist destinations, full of curio and souvenir shops, "authentic" mining camp type cabins for rent, and other Western memorabilia from the rough-and-tumble frontier days in the not-as-long-ago past as you might think.
More of the story of the vigilantes, the discovery of gold and garnets in Alder Gulch, and the lasting impact of the subsequent extraction industry that sprang up.
The dredging process basically overturned beds of stone and gravel hundreds of feet thick, in search of gold and garnets (originally misidentified as rubies). The haul from this operation was in the billions of (current) dollars and helped finance Harvard University for a couple decades. But the scars on the landscape will be a long-enduring legacy of an entirely different sort.
The dredges floated in self-made "ponds" and gradually chewed their way along the Gulch, destroying the ecosystem and spitting out long piles of spoil in their wake.
Virginia City is more of the same. On a beautiful summer Sunday afternoon it was swarming with tourists and day-trippers. But the salted caramel ice cream and Pepsi from the local soda fountain / pizza shop were quite welcome.
I didn't leave Virginia City until about 1640, putting me on the long slow climb to an unnamed pass whose elevation is not marked on the ACA map. I was within 100 vertical feet, and maybe a half mile in distance, of the summit when Cameron and his family came to my aid.
Ennis is another small town, wresting a living by hosting fishing guides and providing services for the fishing and other tourist guests. It's got a couple interesting places to eat and imbibe, as well as other bits of local character.
For the budget-minded cyclist, Willie's Distillery also offers cyclist-only camping. I'd have done that but I wanted a (motel) bed so I chose the Riverside.
Kyle, my server, is up for the season from Arizona. He did a good job and I enjoyed seeing the video of his rocket's launch.
Kyle is a freshman studying aerospace engineering at a school in Arizona. His first project was a rocket that reached 10,000 feet and returned safely to earth.
I wasn't thrilled about hitting this climb so late in the day but it seemed preferable to leaving it for tomorrow; doing so would make for an 85 mile day and that was just too much to consider. Note also that I stopped riding just short of the crest of that giant hill; the final miles were in the company and air conditioned comfort of my rescuer's van.
Keith AdamsTo Kelly IniguezIt was indeed. The descent would have been equally hairy; I was really glad not to have to do it. Reply to this comment 2 years ago
