No connection yet, but I should be close to Missoula, MT, tomorrow, so I can update the blog.
Counting me, we had 4 groups at the tiny Wild Goose campsite, and I spent a little time chatting with 2 different couples. Everybody grew up in Illinois and both couples are currently living in Arizona and came north to avoid the heat. Both couples also were in somewhat new relationships, given their apparent age. Interesting coincidences. One of the couples travel for five months of the year, living out of a minivan, kind of like hippies.
66 miles today to Powell Campground, a US Forest Service campsite. The campsite is near the nice(and expensive) Lochsa Lodge, where I had a Lochsa Burger for an early dinner. The Lodge is the first business open on the road between the Wild Goose campsite and Lolo Pass. I brought extra water, but still had to manage it carefully as I rode all those miles without services. There was a sign entering this wilderness that said no gas for the next 88 miles. There was one motel where you could get water after about 10 miles, but no where else. I have three water bottles, but decided to buy an extra bottle of water before starting out across the Clearwater National Forest and I needed it. Zach had told me that he was carrying a water filtration device, not such a bad idea.
Early on todays ride, another cyclists caught up to me and we chatted for a couple of minutes. This very nice fellow was from Italy and was riding from Astoria, OR to Yorktown, VA. He was riding what appeared to be a carbon racing bike, with skinny tires and with two small flags attached to the rear. One was old glory and the other the Italian colors. No sign of a tent, though he did have a frame bag, so I figured he was staying at motels.
After a few minutes, he sped off. A few minutes later, when about a quarter of a mile in front of me, he stopped and then he waved. As I stopped next to him, he pointed down at the steep drop off leading down to the river, and there precariously balanced on a rock, was his water bottle, which he must have dropped. I held his bike while he climbed down to retrieve the bottle. With a firm handshake, he was off again.
With about 50 miles covered, a flag woman stopped all the traffic (1 car and 2 trucks) for construction. After a few minutes of waiting, she told me I would have to get a lift from a ferry vehicle past the construction zone. Being pretty well worn out at that stage, I didn’t object. I had to wait about 10 minutes for my ferry vehicle to arrive. The driver helped me load my bike in the bed of the pickup and off we went for about a mile to the other side of the construction site. The construction seemed minor to me, something I could have easily negotiated. The driver told me I was the third bike she ferried past the construction today, except one of them, an Italian guy insisted he ride it, since he was in a race. The driver told me they put an escort vehicle in front of and behind him, but they still could have gotten a ticket if they were caught letting him ride through this zone. The driver also told me that the Italian dude was on his eighth day, as he started out from Astoria. Made me feel good about my progress, considering I’m camping and all.
No word about Richard and Scott, maybe I’m ahead of them. I’ll text them again when I regain coverage.
The river seemed ideal for kayaking or rafting, but I didn’t see many on it, although I did have a snack while watching this group prepare.
I’m about 15 miles from Lolo Pass, which I will have to cross. Looks like a 2000 foot climb followed by a downhill all the way to Missoula. I’ll figure out tomorrow if I stay in town or make a shorter day of it.
With todays miles, I’m down for a total of 679.