Days 59 & 60 – Lolo Pass & the Lochsa River

Aug 18
Missoula, MT to Powell, ID
60 miles

Aug 19
Powell, ID to Kamiah, ID
96 miles

We were reluctant to leave Missoula, and despite the long day ahead of us, we lingered for a while in a coffee shop loading up on caffeine and watching bikes come and go. Then it was off to Good Food (Missoula’s answer to Whole Foods) to load up on provisions. Thirteen miles out of Missoula we finally ran into the Dutch Couple who we had been hearing about for a couple of weeks. We were both headed towards the major climb of the day over Lolo Pass and, after a brief chat, they rode off with us just behind. That was, until K spotted a tack store and made a beeline across the busy highway towards it. Our last day in Montana and that girl wanted a big silver belt buckle to take home. She also came across a pair of used cowboy boots that were too good a deal to pass up. Even though she had mailed home everything she didn’t absolutely need and had streamlined her load to two panniers, she liked these boots so much that she was willing to strap them onto the back of her bike to get them back to Seattle. Luckily, the shop proprietor offered to mail them to us. All errands and diversions completed, we moved on to attack the pass. From the west, the grade is very gradual and after several hours of steady climbing, we reached the summit. As our reward, we gained an hour as we crossed the border into our final state before Washington. We felt a mix of amazement, joy, and sadness, knowing that we were almost done with our trip. A quick 13-mile descent and we were at Powell Campground, our evening’s destination. The Dutch Couple (we never did learn their names) were two sites down from us. After a lovely, yet small, meal of Tasty Bites Lentil Curry, we retreated to the tent and were asleep before dark.

We woke up ravenous after our tiny bite dinner and zipped up to the Lochsa Lodge for delicious plate-size huckleberry hotcakes. Fueled and loaded up, we set off to finish the descent along the stunning Lochsa, a wild and scenic river. Almost the entire day’s route paralleled the Lochsa which twists and turns its way down the pass. Construction on the road slowed traffic which passed in small, but manageable, waves along the narrow roadway. The day heated up to 98 degrees and word was it would be even hotter the following day so we decided to ride on for our Transam high of 96 miles. Just as K was flagging in the heat and scanning the river for a sweet swimming spot, she saw a huge black bear with the same idea. After swimming (or fishing), the bear idled along the shore under the shade of a pine tree. A few miles down the road, and late in the afternoon, we met Sarah and Cameron, two eastbounders who were only 15 miles into their day’s ride. They had spent the day socializing in Kamiah, (“Everyone is so NICE there”), and had just stopped for a swim in the river. We envied their relaxed approach to touring and wished we had the flexibility to idle the day away if we chose to. But on we went to finish out the epic day, rolling into the Lewis & Clark Resort & RV Park just outside of Kamiah and just short of a century.

Day 58 – Marvelous Missoula

Aug 17
Hamilton, MT to Missoula, MT
54 miles

“Keep It Weird in Missoula” bumper stickers welcomed us back to a favorite town of ours. We’d been enjoying our travels through cowboy culture in Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana. We even had our eyes on the lookout for big silver belt buckles. But we were really happy to descend into Missoula’s eclectic, outdoorsy, collegiate, bike-oriented atmosphere where we were just part of the norm. So, although it meant a slight detour from the TransAm route, there were no complaints about pedaling the extra miles into Missoula. ML also had to replace her bald rear tire that was completely worn out after 3,000 miles on the trail. After a quick ride through the scenic Bitterroot Valley, we rode into bike-crazy Missoula where we visited 4 of the 7+ bike stores in Missoula for ML to find the perfect tire. We then enjoyed espresso, tasty microbrews at Kettlehouse Brewery (K had the Bongwater Ale – much tastier than it sounds), and fabulous pizza. ML also visited the Adventure Cycling headquarters, where she had her photo taken and was treated to ice cream. A great day spent under sunny skies and an ideal 78 degrees - a perfect mini-break from the road.

Day 57 – Honoring the Humble Hand Dryer

Aug 16
Wisdom, MT to Hamilton, MT
76 miles

36, 43, 38 degrees… motorists couldn’t agree on the exact temperature, but we’re here to testify it was COLD and RAINING. As we climbed over Chief Joseph pass out of the Big Hole Valley coming from Wisdom, rain turned to sleet. We were already heavyhearted after stopping at the Big Hole Battlefield and watching a documentary on the devastating battle between the Nez Perce and the military. We were both wearing full rain gear and every stitch of clothing possible underneath, but getting wet nonetheless and colder with every mile. Finally, we crested the summit and began to descend, but this made us only colder as we no longer had the exertion of riding to warm us. About a mile down, we saw the magic words: “Rest Area”. We were heartened by the thought of potential shelter ahead. As we pulled in, we saw two motorcyclists huddled by the restrooms under the overhang. We commiserated with them briefly about the lousy riding weather and headed directly for the women’s restroom. Inside a young, equally cold cyclist leaped with joy from under the two running hand dryers when she saw us stumble in. Devon had “moved in” with her bicycle, wet clothes strung about the bathroom, and had kept the hand dryers continuously working for the last half hour. We all laughed and huddled under the dryers to warm up and dry out - moving aside when need be to let others use the facilities too. About 45 minutes later we all reluctantly braved the weather and headed on again. We especially felt sorry for Devon, who was riding directly into more inclement weather and higher elevation. Dry and feted, we turned down hill and enjoyed a rainless descent through the stunning Bitterroot Valley into Hamilton.

Day 56 – Waylaid in Wisdom

Aug 15
Jackson, MT to Wisdom, MT
19 miles

Yes, a mere 19 miles. First, there was a big breakfast to eat in preparation for our intended long day’s ride. Then, ML had a flat in her rear tire which required the efforts of three people to try to remove her tire from the rim. Tire changed, we layered ourselves in our minimal cold weather wear. After a bracing 19 mile ride into Wisdom (pop. 100), K was freezing despite her outfit of cut up socks and we were both hungry – again! We enjoyed a huge lunch topped off by delicious warm blackberry pie. Fortified, we returned to the elements, but after a short foray down the road in the wind and the rain, we decided it was wiser and warmer to skeedadle back to town to the safety of the Nez Perce Motel. Thirty-five miles with no services would be fine on a fair-weather day, but we weren’t comfortable without a bail-out point on a day like today. We felt vindicated when, several hours later, 5 minutes worth of heavy hail fell. At least we were able to post our backlog of days and enjoy a fine Bitterroot Brewery ale. By the time we leave tomorrow we will have eaten lunch, dinner, and breakfast at Wisdom’s only, but luckily tasty, restaurant.

Days 54 and 55: Mad About Montana

Aug 13
Ennis, MT to Dillon, MT
75 miles

Aug 14
Dillon, MT to Jackson, Mt
51 miles

We’ve run out of superlatives to describe Montana. We both agree that this is the finest state yet in terms of scenery, and we certainly have enjoyed the cycling, despite adverse weather conditions over the past 2 days. The cuisine has also improved significantly since we left the Midwest, and we are now truly enjoying eating the 2,500+ calories that we need to get us through the day. And microbrews for the choosing!

The ride from Ennis to Dillon started out with having to pay back the 1,800 feet that we lost the previous day, plus an extra 200 in interest, in the first 15 miles. Near the crest of the hill we met a young man from Barcelona who had started in Philadelphia on June 1, cycled south to Florida, then west to California, north to Oregon, and now was on his way back to the East Coast! A fun descent brought us into the historic mining towns of Virginia City and Nevada City, perfectly preserved in all their late 1800’s glory. Later in the day we passed by Beaverhead Rock, and important landmark for Lewis and Clark’s trek. Hundreds of snow geese and Sandhill Cranes paddled in the marshes below. Once again, we skated into town just ahead of the afternoon thunderstorm.

The next day, on route from Dillon to Jackson, the scenery was no less stunning coming into the Big Hole Valley, but our luck with outrunning the afternoon storms gave out. Halfway between Badger Pass and Big Hole Pass we met Walter, a retired professor from North Carolina headed east, and took shelter from a passing shower with him in a silo. Here we passed the time trading touring stories and information about the route ahead. Walter was on his third trip cross-country, but vowed that this was his last trip in the US, preferring touring in Europe. Once the shower passed, we each headed our respective directions, though a few miles north we were caught again in another rain shower. With no structure to take shelter under this time, we pulled out the tent rainfly and huddled under it on the side of the road for about 40 minutes. The rain eventually subsided, but the wind kept blowing. The rest of our day was spent riding directly into a fierce headwind that threatened to blow us back to Kansas. It may have been the slowest 15 miles that either of us has ever ridden. All the while, the road ahead was shrouded in dark, ominous clouds and it constantly appeared as if we were headed directly into heavy showers. However, the road kept curving and the showers kept moving, and miraculously, we arrived in Jackson (finally!) without getting rained on again. The Jackson Lodge was our lodging for the night and soaking in its hot springs pool was the perfect fix for our cold, tired bodies. After a relaxing soak, we enjoyed a fine meal and then lively conversation with Vickie, a Ph.D. scientist from Bozeman, Jim, another touring cyclist headed east, and Richard and Katherine, cyclists doing a loop on the Lewis & Clark.

Day 53: The Force Is With Us

Aug 12
West Yellowstone, MT to Ennis, MT
72 miles

Our wonderful porters, Paul and Suzi, parted ways with us in West Yellowstone to return home. We actually have to carry the full weight of our gear again. Imagine the shock to our bodies! However, the stunningly varied mountain and river scenery accompanied by a strong tailwind (finally!), made today’s ride sweet and fast. During one splendid wind- and gravity- aided section, we were speeding along at 20-25mph with just intermittent, easy, pedal strokes.

Our route took us through the beautiful Madison Valley, a mecca for fly-fishing, and we passed scores of people fly-fishing in the Madison River. We spied several osprey including a nesting pair and more Pronghorns. We ended the day in the delightful town of Ennis, arriving just minutes before a downpour. At 2:00, this was one of our earliest finishes of the trip and, hands-down, the best day of cycling on this tour. An awesome introduction to Montana.

Days 47-52: Windy Wyoming

Aug 6-Aug 11

Okay, it was windy but, at last, a western state with wide shoulders which makes riding so much safer and enjoyable! In Saratoga we soaked our weary muscles and frazzled nerves (following our rescue from the thunderstorm) in the town’s natural hot springs. That evening we witnessed a spectacular Wild West show of thunder and lightning strikes from the safety of Paul and Suzi’s RV. We whizzed through the rest of Wyoming with a little help from the parents. In the interest of time, we skipped some of the less desirable sections of the route (ie. the section along the Interstate, through a road construction zone, and some particularly windy miles). This allowed us time to visit Jackson and to spend more time with hordes of others exploring Yellowstone both on bike and in the car. We saw elk, bison, osprey, eagles, Pronghorn antelope, but no bears. Our visit to Wyoming culminated with a stay at the historic Inn at old Faithful, a grand old hotel situated next to the fabled geyser. We celebrated ML’s birthday in style here, and again the next day with Paul & Suzi in West Yellowstone (party hats and the works).




K modeling her haute couture cold-weather wear fashioned from Paul's old socks

The Inn at Old Faithful


One of Yellowstone's other-worldly features

Days 43-47: The Colorado Rockies and North to the Wyoming Border

Aug 2 - Aug 5

For miles along a hot, desolate, no-services stretch, K had been dreaming that a kind motorist would intuit her parched state and pull over to offer an ice-cold drink. Riding on the 8 inches of shoulder on Highway 9, grinding our pedals against the headwind blowing off Heeny Reservoir, we crested a hill to find a dream come true. We found him in a turn-out, sitting on his VW Beetle bumper, hand extending a soda just plucked from his cooler. K happily guzzled her Pepsi while he filled her water bottles with bubbly water. After an amusing and lively chat, off he zipped, hand waving through his sunroof. Rehydrated, we pedaled as fast as we could to Kremmling to finish the treacherous and heavily trafficked route.

We were happy to have this one good experience with a motorist as our experiences on many of the Colorado roadways were less than desirable; the combination of no shoulders, heavy volume of traffic, and impatient, speeding motorists with cowboy mentalities detracted from the spectacular scenery around us. But the scenery was stunning, particularly near Hoosier Pass.

Climbing the Rockies was challenging. Although the grade was fairly gentle, oxygen was scarce. The last pitch of the climb up to 11,542 foot Hoosier Pass had K sounding like an old Hoover vacuum.

Saved in Colorado

Well, we didn’t find God in Kansas but we did find Paul and Suzi (K’s parents) in Colorado. Or rather, they found us. Plucking us from the hot dusty roadside, they whisked us off to their well-appointed RV, stocked with all the luxuries we’ve been deprived of for 6 weeks: bubbly water, fruit, vegetables, GOOD COFFEE! They have made it their mission to support us for a week or so and are following along, carrying our gear and pampering us. Up at the crack of dawn, they ferry us to the starting point, then drive ahead to set up camp at the next RV park. And more! During a stormy afternoon in Wyoming, they appeared just in the nick of time to rescue us off the side of the road where we were hunkered down behind an embankment’s sagebrush to shelter against the 50 mph gusts and frequent lightning. Emergency rescue, food shopping, ferry services, entertainment…we may not be able to go on after they leave, we are so spoiled now in this lap of luxury.

Day 42 – Sugar City Delivers

Aug 1
Eads, CO to Sugar City, CO
57 miles

The promise of 75 cent homemade cinnamon rolls in the aptly named Sugar City kept us and our new friends pedaling through the long isolated stretch from Eads, CO. An eastbound rider had passed this enticing information on to us a couple days earlier, and well, some of us had been thinking about it ever since. Along the way we sighted Pronghorn antelope, raptors, and white-tailed deer populating the vast plains. K even had a momentarily confused fawn chase after her until it heeded its mother’s call. Every few miles, ML alternately fretted that the Café of the Cinnamon Roll would be closed, and dreamed about the perfect afternoon snack waiting for us in. Finally arriving in the tiny town, we quickly located the café. Closed! Everything in town was closed on this Saturday afternoon save for the tavern. Dejected, we gathered around a soda machine to at least get a cold drink. Foiled again! The only selection that wasn’t sold out was Diet Coke.

The rest of the posse soon arrived with Saz and Aaron having just come under horn attack from a monster truck for no apparent reason. At this point we were a bit sour on Sugar City. There wasn’t a car or resident on the street except for Errol, a local resident, and his sweet dog Buddy. He had witnessed our frustration with the soda machine and listened to our sad tale about the elusive rolls. He suggested that we go over and knock on the café door and ask for some rolls. “She lives right there. Go up to the door and knock.” Instead of following Errol’s advice, we lounged in the shade before heading off into the dry afternoon heat. By this time Errol had gone on his way, but Saz spied him in his truck headed toward the café. “Do you think???”, Saz asked. Not too long after this query, Errol rolled by in his old blue and white Ford truck waving a bag of seven weighty cinnamon rolls for us. We all cheered and Buddy wagged. A sweet ending after all.

Day 41 – We Leave Kansas and Get Pulled Over by the Sheriff

July 31
Tribune, KS to Eads, CO
60 miles

We finally escaped Kansas and entered Colorado, our sixth state!

Potluck in Haswell! The day’s destination was Haswell, a tiny town about 20 miles west of Eads. We were having a most agreeable day, travelling as part of a loose peloton of Saz, Aaron, Chris, and Kyle. It was agreed that we’d all make dinner together and late in the afternoon stopped in Eads to get food. This errand complete, we (K and ML) forged on ahead towards Haswell. Not more than a quarter mile outside of town, the sheriff pulled up next to our bikes, lights flashing. Our hearts pounded. Had he seen us roll through the stop sign on Main Street? Had the clerk at the grocery store reported Kath’s infringement of sitting on the bagged dog food? No, the sheriff had stopped to warn us that there was a severe weather warning and informed us that there was nothing in the way of shelter between Eads and Haswell. Just miles of sagebrush and wildflowers. Having witnessed one of the Midwest’s epic lightshows from the safety of our indoor accommodation the previous night, and experienced various “mild” Midwest storms, this was enough warning for us. We reversed course and headed back into town where there was a hung jury on whether to stay put or proceed. The three gals were all for heeding the sheriff’s advice and eventually the guys reluctantly agreed.

Indeed, within an hour, a storm to make the wicked witch of the west proud swooshed down on us as we set up tents. We fled across the green to the courthouse where we kindly had been offered shelter. From there we watched torrential wind and rain lash branches out of trees and crossed our fingers that our tents wouldn’t end back up in Kansas. After waiting out a power outage, we were able to use a real kitchen and dine in style inside using in the courthouse’s community room. So much better than the outdoor park bench!