Day 8: Polaris

After having the motel standard breakfast I sit on my bike very late. Half past seven is not even an early start. Fortunately the road out of Butte was fairly flat. And until the first major climb I had 6 miles of easy rolling. The climb into Thomson Park was paved but steep.
With the beginning of the gravel section I rode over a wide forest road with a view over the tree covered landscape back to Butte. As I crested Continental Divide Crossing #5 and stopped for a snack I had once more to explain an older couple what I am doing here. They just replied that would be too strenuous and they go for fishing now. I’d liked to do that also.
With the crest there was a complete change of the landscape. Wider open humpy and grassy land with the typical up and downs. The sun dipped the scenery into a magic light with different colours. Riding through this scenery was a real treat topped with the final downhill down to Interstate 15, pure fun.
Traversing the valley led to one further major climb up to the famous Fleecers Ridge. The climb was not special steep but my legs were already done again. I had to stop for my third snack in the meantime.
The sky got this typical dark colour and was just about dumping its wet load down to earth. I made it to Beaver Dam campground before I put all my rain gear on. Ten minutes later I took shelter under a huge fir tree. The lack of broadleaves was a steady annoyance during the whole Tour Divide.
A mix of snow and hail turned the road within minutes from brown into white. 15 minutes later the show was over and left a wet and muddy uphill.
As I got out of the forest onto a plateau I saw the ramp up to Fleecers Ridge, bumpy, rough, wet from the hail shower a few minutes ago and unrideable with a fully loaded bike. But pushing me and my bike up wasn’t real fun too. As I got to the top I saw the way leading to a second top in the far. The torture wasn’t over. Without checking my GPS it was quite sure for me the second top was where the downhill began. After a further half a mile I looked at my GPS and my track was gone. Not the first time during the last seven days and it won’t be the last. I turned around and saw Mason Gravley and Paul Austin who were just about to follow my mistake. The really imperceptible turn was just about a few steps right off the first crest and led over a grassy trail to the downhill. I fixed my sunglasses at my saddle bag and we took some photos. The first step of the downhill (I hadn’t got a clue about a second one) was rough but ridable. I thought by myself why was Mike Dion in the movie pushing his bike down this trail? But suddenly the trail tiled down and I got immediately off my bike. Pushing down the bike made more sense than ever. In the steep terrain it was very difficult not to slide down, because the heavy bike was just about pushing me down and not the other way round. As I got to the bottom of the downhill I realized that my sunglasses were gone. I had forgotten to put them back onto my nose! $110 flushed down the drain. That was my first loss and shouldn’t be my last one. No way going up again and looking for the glasses. What a bummer! In the rain I reached WiseRiver. Resupply in the one and only grocery store and fortunately they sold sunglasses. I got one for $17.
I gave up having lunch at the bar next to the store. No time. All the way down to Polaris, my destination for today, was paved. I had to change the batteries of the SPOT and got off my rain gear because the sun made me sweat. One hour later a car stopped in some distance in front of me. A man got off and took some photos of me. ??? When I reached him he introduced himself as Russ Kipp the owner of the Montana High Country Lodge in Polaris. He asked me if I’d like staying at his lodge for the night. I definitely would, that was my plan anyway.
He confirmed the lodge be just a 3 and half hour ride from this point.
Almost no traffic along the road and the changing landscape helped that the more than three hours went by not too slow like it was usually the case. The downhill after Crystal Park into the valley of Elkhorn Hot Springs was one of the faster one and I came to the lodge right before the rain. Some other riders, Thomas and Mirko as well, were already finished with dinner. What a nice lodge. The walls of the huge hall were filled with padded heads of different animals.
After a shower, some Cokes and dinner I just listened to the pouring rain on the tin roof in my bed.

 

Fleecers Ridge

Wise River

Polaris

The Lodge

Day 7: Butte - a really dark day

Starting the day with a climb was really an exception for me during the whole Tour Divide, but no exception today, unfortunately. This day would turn out to one of my darkest days during the whole race.
I got breakfast at a small café around the corner of the motel where I stayed last night. After a very tough week I had already decided the day before that Butte, just a 65 mile ride, would be my final destination for today. At the first uphill out of Helena I recognized climbing wouldn’t be my strongest skill that day. But the breakfast took me over the first hump. There was an ongoing road construction on the second uphill with loose gravel. That sucked the rest of my life out of my tired legs. The upper part of the road was bumpy and incredibly steep.  Furthermore it started to rain. I put all my rain gear on. But it wasn’t so bad with temperatures near the freezing point.
The Lava Mountain Trail was a moderate disaster. Riding was absolutely impossible. Steep, bumpy and the trail was covered with slippery big roots and sometimes extremely washed out. I didn’t grasp why a trail like this was part of the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route? Even in dry conditions and with an unloaded bike it would be very difficult to ride. I pushed my bike in drizzling cold rain up and down and over roots and bigger rocks. I was totally pissed off. The downhill sections were simply not ridable for me. Not with a more than 40lbs bike and a slippery ground. After what felt like an eternity I finally hit a forest road. The rain passed off. The downhill through a narrow valley with a roaring stream was steep and bumpy, but I saw the sun again and it gave me an excuse to stop and getting off my rain gear. Lava Mountain Trail got a top position in my personal ranking of the top 5 most craped sections of the Tour Divide.
30 miles until Butte, but my legs were completely done. 25 miles of imperceptible ascending terrain plus some strong headwinds paralleling the Interstate 15. I crept with 7 mi/h and less toward the city. My legs were done, I was done and my mind as well. There had not been many situations in my life where I felt so down. This was the first time I seriously thought about quitting the race.
Maybe every rider will remember the gravel ramp directly located near the Interstate on the right side. For me it was for sure: You can’t get off your bike while climbing the ramp, because everybody on the interstate is watching you. I mobilized my last energy and climbed the ramp in one push. I paid for this section with a total smash up of my carbohydrate depots. After that, I fought tooth and nail getting closer to Butte. Other riders caught me up at the long dark tunnel and showed me how slow I was. No chance to keep their pace at all.
A special moment for someone from Germany is to ride directly on an Interstate. In Germany strictly prohibited. Getting to Butte meant riding on the Interstate. I took the ramp and a few seconds later I rode on the shoulder together with all the other traffic beside me.
For me Butte was the first milestone on the Divide I really wished to get to. I didn’t know why. As I started the downhill to the city on the Interstate I had tears in my eyes. I was really happy about my sunglasses. What is this race doing with me? I didn’t know, but I guess it was a mix of joy, relief of the torture and looking forward to some hours of rest before getting on the bike again tomorrow morning.
Visiting the bike shop "The Outdoorsman" in Butte is a must. My bike was just fine, but obviously my bike needed a new rider. The second MUST for me – Starbucks, checking in at a decent motel, having dinner with my German buddies Thomas and Mirko, who were also in town and who had suffered a similar misery like me, was a great relief and gave me the power to go on.

 



Lava Mountain Trail

Butte

Day 6: Helena

Starting without any breakfast sucks. But an early start is essential for collecting miles and with Lincoln in sight I was able having breakfast later on. I left Ovando with the dawn. The last few warmer and sunny days were over. It was cloudy and cold. Just with some energy bars I started pedaling toward Huckleberry Pass. Fortunately the terrain was almost flat so the first few miles went by very quick. A few times I’ve read in the bikepacking forum that riders fell asleep while the peddled their bikes. I couldn’t believe it. At the monotonous uphill to Huckleberry Pass my eyes shut down. I suddenly got so tired that I was not able to keep my eyes open. This seemed to be the time where the sleep deprivation of the last days took its toll. By all available means I tried to stay awake. Just after cresting the Pass and on the following downhill life came back into my tired eyes. In Lincoln I had breakfast and stocked up all my groceries for the push to Helena. A glimpse view at the elevation profile told me that this wouldn’t be a piece of cake today. With three major climbs the first Continental Divide crossings applied.
The wide forest road that left Lincoln lulled me so I missed the significant turn to the first climb. 3 miles and 800 feet of climbing later I checked my GPS and noticed that I was wrong. Apparently I needed more than just a few hours of sleep. Fortunately backtracking was all downhill, but I lost almost one hour.
The first climb was very tough. The track was bumpy and steep, but the reward was a long and nice downhill. In the valley I entered I heard the first thunder roaring and on the second uphill I had to put my rain gear on. The upper part was too steep for my tired legs. I had to push my bike. The strong wind became more and more an issue. First tailwind and after a 180° turn suddenly headwind. Not so nice! At the last major climbs thunderstorms were still an issue and on the downhill it started to rain. Fortunately the downhill to Helena, first on gravel and later on the highway was completely downhill. The daily up and down game was literally going to be a total wash-out. In the pouring rain I was looking for a motel. Prior to the Tour Divide I saved all the service facilities like motels, restaurants, bike shops and supermarkets on my GPS, because if I was in a town I didn’t want waste my time with searching for any of these facilities. So I found a motel very quick and dried out all my wet stuff. Because of a lack of restaurants in the near vicinity I ordered a large Pizza to go and had dinner in my motel room.

Kirsten Arnold with Taylor Kruse

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.