Day 5: Ovando

Thomas, Mirko and I had an awesome breakfast at Holland Lake Lodge. The best I’ve got during the more than three weeks. And in addition we all got a lunch package to go. Like the other days before, the sun was shining from a clear blue sky at this morning. With Richmond Peak one further more familiar climb was scheduled for today. Today’s plan was getting to Lincoln.

After I took some pictures I started the climb up to Richmond Peak. In the past years this pass usually was still snow covered. But other riders reported that the pass is completely snow free now. As I climbed half of the pass I had to eat one of my sandwiches from the lunch package.

With every feet I got higher the view became more and more breathtaking. Almost at the top the road turned into a narrow single track. Remaining snow filled the edges of the trail. The trail was one of the more sophisticated kinds and claimed for more concentration like usual.

The flat top led slowly to a narrow alley of small fir trees into a downhill. The sharp pins of the trees pricked all over my arms and legs. Despite of that it was something different and more exciting like the usual more “boring” downhill’s from the other passes before. The single trail hit a forest road and as I reached the bottom and the next small climb after a fast downhill the outside temperature was in the nineties. I got my daily bonk for an ice cold coke. Seeley Lake was just 1.5 miles off road and I took the turn down toward the refreshment. In a supermarket I drank two extra large cans (about half a gallon) of ice cold coke. What a treat! With a lake of coke in my stomach I started toward Ovando. One or two hours later I heard thunder roaring in the far. In the meantime the sky was covered with clouds and from time to time it started to rain, but just a few drops. As I approached Ovando I saw several big thunderstorms around the little town. The ground was covered with small hail balls. It was 5 PM and in face of the thunderstorms around I didn’t felt like going on this day. In the one and only grocery store I ask for a room in the nearby motel. Unfortunately there was no room left anymore, but I could go for a camp a few feet down the street on a small meadow. I didn’t know, maybe my face was as shocked as I heard the word “camping” that the lady came back a few minutes later and told me she got a whole house for me. The owner would be in just for the weekends. Wow, a whole house for a dirty and stinky biker like me? She charged me 50 bucks for the house, unbelievable! Another guy brought me to the unlocked!! house and I made myself a home. I took a bath, washed and dried out all my dirty and stinky bike clothes.

At Trixies, the one and only restaurant (bad foot and lousy service), I meet some other riders and I was a little bit ashamed as I told them that I had a whole house for me alone. They got a “bed” in one of the storage garage in town.  

 

At Holland Lake

At Holland Lake

At Richmond Peak

My house in Ovando

Day 4: Holland Lake

I wouldn’t it call breakfast what I got in the Motel. So I looked for an opportunity to get a decent breakfast in town. I found a small Café directly across the street of the Pizzeria where I had dinner yesterday.

The grocery store was closed as I left the town and I postponed my resupply to Columbia Falls, the next town just a few miles ahead. I found a supermarket and as often happened during the Tour Divide I had to explain what I am doing and where I am going to.

The route zick-zacked over wide open farm land with some very beautiful farm houses. The sunny weather together with the mountains in the background gave the scenery a bright shinning look. Postcard Montana! I didn’t stock up all my water in Columbia Falls because I knew there was a smaller grocery store in Ferndale. But I wasn’t able to find it. I curved up and down the street and tried some side roads. Nothing! Within the next few miles I filled one bladder with water from a stream nearby the road together with a purification tab and at once I used the chance to cool down the hotspots at my feet again.

For the next 50 miles I dipped into the deep Montana forest. I didn’t see any single human being.

The first indication of life I passed in terms of some lumbermen who were sleeping in its tents almost directly on the narrow path I had to turn into.   

I knew Holland Lake Lodge was not far away but I was struggling with the every day up and down game and was really happy as I hit the highway. As I left the highway a sign told me further additional 4 miles. After 3 miles I meet another rider who strayed around some side roads to find the lodge. Together we reached the lodge in the fading daylight. Due to the mosquitoes stopping biking was not a good idea. Especially since they mob on their prey in packs and do not spare any part of the body because of their sanguinariness. 

Holland Lake lodge is a real find. Expensive, but excellent food that is far apart from the daily junk food I’ve got all the days before.   

 

 

In Columbia Falls

Day 3: Whitefish

This day passed by relatively uneventful. Early in the morning I packed all my camping stuff together. It was sunny but very cold. The 10 miles to Eureka warmed me a little bit up. I was happy having breakfast and to stock up all my groceries. The way to Whitefish pass was marked with countless smaller up and downs. I felt the long last two days in my legs. And today I also entered the kingdom of pain. I got some hotspots at both of my feet that were burning like fire. And also my big toes felt a little bit numb. Dipping my feet into the cold water of some of the streams nearby the road brought relief for the next one or two hours. As a second issue I got some smaller saddle sores. On the downhill from the Whitefish Pass and up to Red Meadow Lake I was accompanied by a beautiful landscape. At Red Meadow Lake Pass I had to cross some snow fields. But over all just for a few hundred feet. The downhill was fun and I saw myself already at the dinner in Whitefish. But the downhill ended up on a paved road and it began one of those games that I should see almost every day during the next three weeks. Up and down and up and down again. Just small climbs but felt endless. Dinner had to wait. The Divide is not predictable. That's it what I've got to learn in the next days. One hour later like planned I arrived in Whitefish. First I looked for a restaurant. Fortunately I found a Pizzeria and ordered one big plate of pasta. A little bit later Matt Slater entered the restaurant and gave me some company. The phone rang and someone at the other end asked for two riders. The server confirmed that the two riders were in and the unknown person ordered two beers for us. Unbelievable!! The SPOT Tracker obviously revealed him our location. Something like that in Germany - totally impossible!   

 

 

 

Snow on Red Meadows Lakes Pass

Red Meadows Lake

 

Red Meadows Lake

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.

 

 

  

 

 

 

I made it!

After 25 days 6 hours and 34 minutes I made it finally to Antelope Wells. But had never thought I would. Before getting into the race finishing would have been unthinkable. But after I finished, it is more unthinkable than before. There was nearly no day I was not just about to quit. To be every day extremely goal focused to hit the 100 mile marker was a mental overkill. I had some very dark days!

Especially New Mexico obviously didn't want to see me in Antelope Wells. A lot of things went wrong and only with big effort I was able to stay within my 25 days goal. More than once I had the phone in my hand to call my quit. A damaged rear tire right before Milan/Grants (with no Bike service at all) almost cost me the successful finish. Only Walmart saved my life.

Just barely I was able to fix a flat front tire on the way to Pie Town.  

500 feet before I hit the pavement in Pie Town I rolled over my Smartphone. All the ACA maps, cue sheets and the emails from Matthew due to the second fire reroute were on the phone. An additional loss to my GoPro Hero3 camera that I lost in the Basin.

Heading on just with my GPS was a little bit risky, but in the meantime I've got the notion that this is a test. How much misfortune is someone able to bear. For me a reason to go on. The Bursum Road by night (very spooky) and a thunderstorm 20 miles before Silver City cost me one further day.

Why I didn't quit in the end? There is more than just one reason.

You don't trash four years of preparation with one hand. All the tons of stuff I read during this time, the reports from former racers and all the four editions of the Cordillera let me know, that there were people on the trail, who were sharing a similar story like me. 

And I did it for all those riders who were not able to finish the race due to medical issues. I saw the huge disappointment in their faces, because they were not able to ride their bikes any further. In contrast, I was blessed. Some hotspots at both feet and in the beginning of the race some smaller saddle sore issues. That was it. Physically there was absolutely no reason to quit.

Of course I did it for my family, because not just in the year of the race I have been separated often from them either for long training rides or sitting at the desk.

And last but not least as many other riders reported it before: All the countless human beings along the route. I am very happy that I was able to experience it on my own. But so many encouragement and affection I had never got in my life from other people before. What a lot of "so called" friends at home were obviously not able to provide - those people did.   

But the most painful story would be that I have a friend who is road cyclist and without finishing the race he would be assured in his opinion that mountain bikers are all pussies. I wouldn't be able to bear his kidding. ;-) 

I would like to say "Thank you" to all those people who supported me before and especially during the race! And sorry to my family for some sleepless nights.

 

Now I am going to update this blog with stories and pics from time to time.  

 

 

I am still alive

Sorry for the late post but I need all the time I can grab for recreation. The race exceeds all my expectations and is more than just tough. All the tons of stuff I read, learned and all the preparation are nothing against to be live on the trail. The slogan for every day is: "Survive" Somehow! Within the first two days I've done all that things I was just to avoid. Riding in the dark, drinking water from a stream and camping. Mentally the race is a blast. Two times I was about to pull the plug. On day two you leave your own comfort zone. And with day two or three you open the door to the kingdom of pain. The critical days are day seven to ten. Many riders are dropping the race either they are not able to handle the mental stress or the different pain sources are not bearable anymore, even with painkillers.

I am compared to other riders more or less fine. My sores and pain(s) are surprisingly at a decent low level. Mentally every day is a new fight. Why am I getting myself into? Where is the reward? Nobody and really nobody can imagine the incomprehensible beauty of this continent that we are travelling through its backyard. After every corner a new highlight. And it doesn't matters if it's raining or the sun is shining. The people are absolutely amazing. Many of them are knowing what we are doing here. They cheering from their cars and encourage you where they are able to. For them we are something like national hero's.

Today I entered the state line of Wyoming. Unbelievable! 99% of the day I am riding alone. This is one part of the race I really enjoy. After day eleven you see always the same riders during the day and in the evening.

Many, many things are worth to mention but sleep deprivation is one of the main diseases here at the Tour Divide. But I am gonna tell all these stories after the race. I promise.
 

Day 1: Sparewood

I couldn’t say that I was really exited this morning. Actually I felt like I would start to one of my multi day trips in the Alps. But my heart rate told another story.
We had our “last meal” in the hotel and I was busy to pack all my seven things together. Every time I dream about a marathon or a race I am either to late at the start line or I go lost during the race. Latter wouldn’t remain just a dream, unfortunately!
When I arrived at the Y-Lodge Crazy Larry was in his element already and instructed all riders for the final group photo. After he celebrated his ceremony we headed out to the trail head for the final go.
Getting to the border tomorrow would mean getting to Sparewood today, 140 miles and more than 9000 feet of climbing. Even under perfect conditions and without riding myself against the wall just at the first day it would be a big achievement for me, because I am slow! An unknown risk I was facing off. But for sure I could count on my natural brake, my lumbar. Normally if I ride with bigger gears in the first days of a multi day event my lumbar starts to hurt so much that I have to go off my bike.
Just after a few miles on the Spray River Trail and the whole pack was stretched like a lindworm. Some very remote looking single trails were calling for the first use of my whistle. Fortunately I was not alone.
The first 12 miles until we hit the Smith-Dorrien Spray Road was peppered with some smaller nasty ramps. Not a real problem for the first day but it would be for future days. My heart rate was far beyond good and evil. But I knew this would be just a phenomenon of the first two days.
I remembered my family and I took this wide road to Canmore on our vacation in 2009. The weather was the same - cloudy, windy and cold. The weather forecast failed for today.
Every time a car came across or passed by I was covered with a cloud of dust. I was happy leaving the road and crossing the dam at Spray Lake. Somewhere along the lake shore drizzling rain came in. I put my rain gear on. But even in the rain the scenery was amazing.
The Boulton Creek store was crowded by riders. I arrived when Mirko and Thomas were just about to head on, a scene that will tend to be repeated during the whole race. How I will make it to Sparewood today? Some snacks and two Coke’s later I was back on the trail. Elk pass was a monster. Some parts of the ascent were simply too steep. Every time when I am as fast with my bike as I would walk I prefer to walk. I call it my power save mode. But with this uphill gradient it was difficult to save any power. The bumpy track traversed some power lines. I alternately pushed and rode my bike up this nasty track. Okay I couldn’t really complain about that when I was thinking at the poor wretches who pushed their bikes in the cold and snow up the pass last year. So I was just fine with my situation.
The rain came and passed by alternately. One hour after I crested the pass my legs started to cramp. What was that? The first day and just cramping? Did I drink to little? No, not really.
I started to take some highly dosed magnesium but without any visible success. A deficiency of magnesium I excluded after one further hour. On a light uphill at another wide gravel road I had to stop due to my cramping legs. Sparewood goodbye! What was the reason for it? Perhaps missing salt? My bladders were full with a mix of water and some energy powder. But obviously this first day was more demanding as I thought. Water in Germany has normally a very high mineral content. During my training rides I was using water with a very high salt content. Here the water is poor in minerals. I rummaged around in my bags for some salty food. That was not very much but it worked. I had to slow down my pace and before I reached Elkford in the evening the rain passed by. What now? It was 6:30 pm. Normally I would looking for a room and a hot meal. Where were Thomas and Mirko? I checked the gas station, Kap’s Pizza (where some other riders had already dinner) and the motel in town. No trace of them. Apparently they headed on to Sparewood. First day and the first hard decision. I had been exhausted but not completely done and there were just 30 miles left until Sparewood. The elevation profile reflected one climb and the rest downhill. I did a resupply at the gas station that was also part of the movie and left Elkford at 7:00 pm. I bought a lot of salty nuts to lift my salt balance. And really, after Elkford cramping was no issue anymore during the whole TD.
The uphill on the nasty paved road was long and steep. There was a short hiking section above a river over some very bumpy rocks.
The clouds made room for a beautiful afterglow (the late bird catches the worm). On the final push to Sparewood I had to switch on my flashlight. First day and first ride in the dark - what a way to start. At 10:30 pm I arrived to the town with the perception that all restaurants were closed. I checked in at a hotel where a lot of other riders already had found a bed for the night. Fortunately I bought two bigger sandwiches in Elkford that I put into the microwave for dinner. Nice! After a shower I filled my blog with some words from today’s ride. But writing some lines on a Smartphone after 15 hours on a bike was a bigger challenge like the whole day itself. I decided this would remain a one night stand and fill the blog after the race! In any case I had to review my race strategy. More days like this and … . 

 

 

 

Climb to Elk Pass

Goodbye Banff

Getting into the right mood

Now things get serious. If anyone has told me years ago that I am going to race someday the longest mapped mountain bike route of the world over more than 2700 miles across the Rocky Mountains, I'd have called him insane.

A lot of ifs and buts are left, something I am not able to deal with, though. I am excited how to handle with the discomfort during the following days. I don't like discomfort at all, but if there is a slogan I am writing on my flags, it is the statement from the Blog of Jim Stansburry who rode the TD last year: "Discomfort is not a reason to quit the race!" 

What do I expect? I'm really looking forward to some locations which earned a certain reputation over the years. The Outdoorsman in Butte, Kirstin from the Brush Mountain Lodge, Pie Town Café, Absolute Bikes in Salida just to name a few. Otherwise I expect to finish in one piece, nothing less or more.

Weather forecast for tomorrow is not bad at all. 30% chance of rain at sunny up to a cloudy sky. The forecast for Montana (I expect to cross the border at Saturday night) sunny and hot for the next few days. Here some pics from Banff:

Legal doping

No, I don't get money from Starbucks for some advertising. But the coffee from this brand is a real treat, in face off the deprivation of the next few weeks.
 

The bags are packed

More than 120 items I've got on my gear list. Dispersing all those of my belongings for 4 weeks in just a few small bags and a backpack is a strange feeling. At least here is the point where you say goodbye to the daily business and where the (ad)venture begins.
Here the final gear list:

 

Last minute jobs

Five days before leaving Germany not all the things are sorted out. Last Sunday I did my last longer training ride after a month with literally washed out weather.

I removed all my bags and released them from the mud of the last few weeks. My bike got a complete service. Replacing the tires, grips, pedals, derailleur pulleys, bottom bracket, the complete drive train, liner and shifter cable and service to the suspension fork with changing the dust wipers and finally a full service to the free hub with changing the pawls and all the bearings took me two evenings in the basement. But the To Do List doesn't want get smaller at all. I am really fed up with the many odds and ends that are wasting so much time and I can't wait lining up next Friday in Banff.

It's ironic - Now, where the weather here in Germany finally turns to be warmer and more dry I've to disassemble my bike and pack it into a box. 

Body shaping with a view

The northern part of the area where I’m living is strewn with huge old coal mining dumps of different elevation that are now all part of strip land reclamation projects. They are lined by tracks, double tracks and trails with all degree of difficulty and are accessible to the public. One of my favourite training tour I call “dump hopping”. A big advantage of this tour is depending on the personal fitness I can go up the man-made hill or simply discard it and ride to the next one.

On the top you enjoy a fantastic view over the former affected coal mining area. Unfortunately a dingy reputation adheres to the industrial site to be stinky, grey and dirty. But it becomes more and more a chapter of the past.

 

Coal mining dump called Haniel