There is nothing sexier then a cute woman handling a fatty bike wheel. And there she was and I needed to stop starring and go help unload the snow bike. We arrived pretty late as per usual and we needed to get down the trail a bit before setting up our first camp of the long weekend.
The trail started off innocently enough. I usually find a extremely large amount of anticipation before an adventure. The unknown. The beauty. To me like a Christmas morning for a child. I couldn’t wait to unwrap our adventure.
And … if you can find a friend that enjoys the same thing … go with it. I mean go for all of it. For me I am lucky to have a partner that interestingly enough wants to push her bike for days on end and lounge around a campfire at night. And so we were off.
Within literally 20 pedal strokes we were neck deep in shrubs and stream crossings. Ok, now I understand why most of Alaska is unavailable for travel. That is why I like the Beartooths, because it is like Alaska as I remember. For some reason the thin air up near 10 grand intoxicates you and we just stumbled along dumbly … silently.
I finally broke the silence and reported that this weekend would probably be all bike walking. I needed to gauge my friends enjoyment level. I looked back down a hill that I tried to climb but succumb to falling off my large fat bike. What did I see? A large smile. That is all I needed and continued down the trail.
It had been only a tad over 2 miles when the sun started to set and we came upon a beautiful lake. In fact it was called Beauty lake. To us though, after a couple hours pushing the bike, it was home. At least for the night. The rest was a blur, not because I cant remember what went down but due to the conditions that the Beartooths are famous for. A storm blew in and it was all we could do to hang out food and dive for the tent before it hit. And hit it did, all night.
Boneshakerbike 
Your Thoughts