Day 2: Galton Pass

Made it to Sparewood yesterday put me in a good position to make it to the US border in the evening today.

The weather today was really nice. Sunny, but neither hot nor cold. Perfect bike weather. After a longer paved section and my first of two bear sightings I hit the gravel of the uphill to Flathead Pass. After the long ride yesterday my legs were tired. But the uphill gradient was gracious and Flathead Pass was history very soon. After cresting Cabin Pass I had to cross a lot of streams that sometimes sharing the same road like me. Crossing those streams let me feel always a little bit nervous. Stucking at one of the bigger boulders and falling into the water wouldn’t be very funny. The first stream I walked through with my shoes off. But at the second and third and fourth and … I tried it with a lot of speed. But there was one big puddle covering the whole road. No chance to see how deep it would be. I tried a first attempt to cross the puddle at the right side. I immediately stucked due to a boggy ground. Fortunately a Jeep came and crossed the puddle. Now I could see how deep it was. For me no change to got through. In the same moment Thomas and Mirko caught me up and we successfully pushed our bikes through the scrubs at the left side. I lost Mirko and Thomas out of my sight very soon.

To save batteries the display of my GPS is always switched off. Usually at every junction I switch it on to check the track. But I didn’t do this at the significant turn toward Galton Pass. I saw the bridge going over the stream down on the left side but I rushed straight onto the gravel road that soon started to climb in a very inconvenient gradient. I  had been riding for a while and was wondering about missing riders and missing tire tracks on the road. After 6 miles and a lot of up and downs I checked my GPS and saw the track was gone. Where had it gone to? It was obvious, I had missed a turn. I had to backtrack the 6 miles and what I did after the ride back let me look like a bloody rookie who handles a GPS for the first time, totally embarrassing. I tracked back toward Cabin Pass, the same way I came down two hours ago. After 15 minutes I rushed into Matthew Liggett.

 

Conversation:

 

Matt: Where are you going to?

 

I: New Mexico

 

I: Where are you going to?

 

Matt: New Mexico

 

Then … silence! Everybody was checking the GPS and Matt his maps and cue sheets. Everybody was totally convinced to be on the right track. I was, but in the wrong direction. We sorted that out and 15 minutes later I stood on the bridge at the bottom of Galton Pass. Losing the track cost me 12 miles, 1000 feet of climbing and more than one and a half hour. And - I was running out of water. I filled one bladder with the water from the cold clear stream and added a purification tab. I had to wait 2 hours before I might drink the water. On the first miles up to Galton Pass I used my last water and now I had to wait. This was the first time in my life I really felt what it means getting more and more thirsty. It couldn’t be ignored, Galton Pass was bear area. The whole road was laced with bear dump. From time to time I used my whistle. After I turned around a corner I saw a little black bear cub 300 feet ahead. Because I was in hurry and didn’t want to risk any confrontation I blew my whistle as long as the cub finally moved away. I hoped their Mom as well. In the meantime the 2 hours went by and I almost emptied half of my bladder like someone who is just about to die of thirst.

I started at 6:30 pm at the bridge and calculated 3 hours for getting over the pass. But the time had just been flying by and I hadn’t reached the infamous hike and bike section up to the pass at this point.

A small single track, leading to this section meandered through the boonies and I blew my whistle again and again. The most time I pushed my bike on this narrow track. The real hiking part came into the view like a rear up vertical wall. I didn’t have a clue how to get a 40 lbs bike plus rider up this wall. The ground was extremely muddy, covered with slippery roots and water was draining down the path. I let Matt, who caught me up in the meantime, pass by. Only with strenuous effort we were able to balance our bikes up the slippery path. What a nice surprise. Well, so much about cresting the pass before it is getting dark. Totally exhausted we reached the exit of this nasty section. It was around 10:00 pm and the light began to fade. I slipped into my leg warmers and my windstopper vest. Matt and I agreed to tackle the step downhill together, but the uphill wouldn’t come to an end at all. Every time the road became flatter we thought – So much for the climb! But it didn’t. Before we finally crested the pass we saw two tents and two bikes next to the forest road and as we reached the top it was pitch-dark. Another guy was sitting on the ground, thickly wrapped up in many layers warming clothes and babbled something from his knees and he wanted to walk down the pass. I didn’t really understand him, but apparently he was totally done.

The steep downhill was attended by my noisy brakes and I realized a downhill on a gravel road in complete darkness only with a flash light on my helmet is very stressful venture, even if the flashlight is not too bad at all. It was around 11:30 pm when we finally hit the pavement and arrived at the boarder. Matt phoned all the Motels in Eureka with the result that all were complete. Border crossing for a foreigner like me took about 15 minutes. Filling out the green waiver after sixteen hours on the bike was not so easy at all.

There was a small bar open until 2.00 am, located directly after the border. We were not the only guests. As we stepped in four other riders were lingering in front of the bar with some food. I ordered something to eat (fried chicken breast with fries) and 4 cans of Coke. The lady behind the bar told us that we may camp right next to the building on a small meadow. At 1:30 am I built up my tent and tried to find some sleep on my narrow sleeping pad. As far as I can remember, I didn’t get more than two hours. But the other fellows seemed to have no sleeping problems, though. I heard their snoring every time I woke up.

Hopefully days like these would be an exception on the Divide. After the big push yesterday until Sparewood with no decent dinner and today with a similar situation I knew I am not on an ordinary mountain bike tour in the Alps. Just within one day I did all those things that I wished to avoid: Drinking water from a stream, riding in the night and camping. Welcome to the Tour Divide.