Author: Bill

 

My plan is to create a impossibly hard loop that someone could never possibly conquer in 24 hours or even ever in a single ride.  Maybe this loop could be a extreme bikepacking endeavor.  In any case my expedition to GPS and discover another section of the Foothills Trail continues with a ride from Truman Gulch to Middle Cottonwood.

So I parked at the Middle Cottonwood Trailhead and rode the dirt roads over to the Truman Gulch Trailhead. It was like 100 degrees out and the washboard loose gravel made the beginning part of this ride pretty challenging.  But little did I know i was out for some even more challenging sections.

It wasn’t long before I was climbing and then more climbing … and … climbing.  As I broke out to a open meadow I jumped on the Foothills Trail running South.  And, you guessed it, started climbing some more. Finally I gained the saddle that so many times I have turned around upon. And then I rode off the other side.

 

I was happy to be finally on new trail and decended to a meadow. Then I noticed that my climbing power was gone as I headed up to the next saddle.  I felt a little wore out from the previous sustained grunt. So I walked the uphill to what I thought was Bostwick Pass. And I paid the price too because the climb was straight up now and it seemed as thought the only trail users were motorcycles. At one point I had to carry the bike on my shoulders and scrabble for footing.  It was super steep.  And up I went to the next saddle.

 

As I gained the ridge it was all I could do to keep from collapsing. but I couldn’t because to the right of me was a huge drop off and again the trail was so steep I was struggling for traction. But I did finally gain it with the thought that thankfully this was the last pitch.  And I was glad because it would get dark in an hour. But as I crested the saddle I was horrified to see that Bostwick Pass was the next saddle over.  At least I hope it was Bostwick Pass.

 

As the sun started to set I gained the next ridge and indeed it was Bostwick. From there it was all downhill to the car.  A long downhill. In the day time this trail would be fun but very technical. At night it was freakishly frustrating. At one point I glanced off a rock and went down. It became obvious that I needed to go slow and walk all the ricky steins. I reached the car in complete darkness.

Today holds a special significance, one that I’ll tread lightly on to protect the innocent. It reminds me of capturing waterfall photos – the way they appear almost surreal with silky-smooth, blurred water. But, in reality, it’s a snapshot of many seconds, a blend of time to reveal the essence of motion.

On this very day, one year ago, I summoned the courage to take a leap of faith and ask someone out. Just like those blurred waters, it was a moment of motion, a step into the unknown.

Taking the day off after a bike pack epic. Sadly I feel great … just not ready for work. So I am taking advantage of the fact that I said that I would probably need Monday off. Thinking next weekend of hitting up Lava lake with Mo. it is time to get out and soak up what is left.

Previous : Fitz-Barn Day 1 :: Fitz-Barn Day 2

I woke up late which at first disturbed me a little. Sure I was not doing as well as I thought I could. But I still had a bit of fight left in me. I still wanted to try and make up for the slow start. Waking up late isn’t a good way to get things started but in hind sight it was good to get a full 8 hours sleep. It didnt take me long to pack up and I was on my way in no time.  It felt good to be riding again and when the route turned into a climb I was excited to learn that I had all my super powers back.  First though I needed to take off my slumber clothes. I stopped at a good vantage point above the Big Hole Valley to make a coffee and strip the warm down clothes off.

Photo courtesy of Aaron Baldwin

I noticed a carcass in the field below me and my mind started to wonder off on a new perspective. How little we are in the world.  How are life is here and gone and how we just get left behind.  It was all this animal could do to stay with the herd until one day it just fell over and moved on.  And the herd just moved on as well.  I felt the same sadness. how I was running with the pack and then left for dead.  No, I wasn’t really left for dead but everyone was moving at their own pace and I had to get myself to the finish or just be forgotten out here. 

Suddenly three white dogs appeared. All three looking into the valley as I was. The eldest sat on the ridge above me. The middle aged one on the road I was one. And the young one near the carcass below.  The young one noticed me first but not until I spoke up.  I don’t know what I said. Something like, “Whats wrong” or something stupid. talking to dogs is dumb right?

It started barking and they all approached me. I got nervous for a second but notice the eldest was already wagging it’s tail and they all came and sat in front of me.  It was weird. They all watched me pack my warm close and prepare to ride.  It was if they were there in support.  Waiting for me.

I started riding and they ran with me.  At first all three until the older dogs fell behind. It seemed like I was getting strength from them and I started riding stronger and stronger. It was like I had not ridden in a week. When the last one left me I was traveling at a higher velocity then ever and started to cover ground quickly.  Then on another section big Clydesdale like horses ran with me and I rode even faster.  By the time I caught up to Tracey P I was simply flying.  I chatted for a bit and then continued my inspired ride.

Photo courtesy of Aaron Baldwin

The rest was a blur of focused riding and wonderment of the vastness of the Bitterroots. After a beautiful and relaxing water / filter stop I was hammering up a long sistained climb towards Shultz Saddle, the last real sustained climb of the ride.  Easy peasy.

Photo courtesy of Aaron Baldwin

Before I knew it I was headed down familiar ground, down to Sleeping Child Road.  I was home and I couldn’t wait to see everyone and finish the ride that started out with disaster and ended up on a strong day. I cant tell why I rode so well that last 100 miles, probably the fasted 100 miles I have ever rode.  Inspiration from other creatures … maybe.  A welcoming hug from my girlfriend, most definitely.  Maybe I was just back to my old self … just out for a ride.

Previous : Fitz-Barn Day 1 :: Fitz-Barn Day 2

Previous : Fitz-Barn Day 1 :: Next : Fitz-Barn Day 3

Photo courtesy of Tracey Petervary

I could not sleep. My headache was better and overall I felt like I was finally over the funk. It was pretty early when I got up and quietly left my two camp mates near the top of Bannock Pass. My headlamp lighted the way and I thought I would head right down into the Lima Valley. But I soon discovered that I had some more climbing to do and took off some of my slumber clothes along the way.

The horizon was starting to become lighter when I eventually descended. It was pretty cold but that didn’t affect me. My plan for sleeping was to use a bivy and wear puffy clothes of mostly down. Then in the morning when things were nippy I could peel off the layers as necessary and stuff them in the rear seat bag. This system seemed to be working marvelously. Until I ran into a deep creek crossing.

Photo courtesy of Aaron Baldwin

Once on the other side of the creek I quickly realized it was a mistake to get my feet wet. My toes started burning soon after as they froze. It wasn’t until I finally reached some sun patches on a hill side that I was able to thaw out. but this pain kept me company and kept my mind off of my condition.

My condition was good but I was hungary. So I stopped a couple times to snack on the only thing I had, coconut manna. I quickly grew sick of it and started to worry about how the hell I could make it to Jackson without eating. I stopped and accessed every hour … that and enjoyed some rest breaks in the sun. I almost started to have fun.

Photo courtesy of Aaron Baldwin

The morning ride was mostly downhill and it felt good to scream along at high speeds. To me this was free ground. I was getting closer to my destination with minimal effort. And much needed calories. When I went through Grants my heart sank. There was no place to grab food. Nothing was open and the only bar looking building was closed. About 3 miles out of Grants a man flagged me down in the road.

“Are you with that woman with the green outfit”

“Yes I am”

“Do you want to stop for water and a cookie”

This sounded so good and I looked back on the road. And this is where my decision making skills need work. Just like the decision to not get food in Dubois this one had a reason. My reason … I didn’t want to back track. IT would of been 6 miles out of my way. Forgetting, of course, that the route was a full 400 miles and who knows how many miles to Jackson. My mind imagined a small climb and all downhill route to Jackson hot Springs where the largest burger in the world (all a part o my delusion) awaited me.

“Naw … I am ok”

“Which way are you going?”

“That way … I plan on eating all the ice cream Jackson has to offer”

“Over Bloody Dick Pass”

“Yes, it is the way we are supposed to go”

“But the is the L O N G way”

“I know”, as I dropped my head, then raised it towards where I needed to go.

“Ok, well the general store in Jackson has hand packed ice cream so good luck”

“Thanks”

And I was off. And I felt pretty good … for about an hour.

It became apparent that I had farther to Jackson then I ever imagined. Even with all the data printed out in my bag and a GPS that said how far to Jackson. The going got slow. Suddenly a familiar feeling came over me. Dizziness. I stopped to filter water and berated myself about skipping the water and cookie offer. I rested for about 30 minutes and tried some more coconut mana. The damn stuff wasn’t going down so well. It was gross and my taste-buds rejected it. I just couldn’t eat the damn stuff.

I rode for another hour and realized I had left my water stop without water. I jumped off my bike near a stream and started filtering. That is when Tracey P came by and decided it was a good idea to take a dip. It looked good but I was concerned about making my chamois wet. I watched her ride off while I slowly filtered water. My boda filter took 10 to 20 minutes to filter enough water to continue. but I figured it was a good rest and it would be good to use my hands in a different way then to hold onto a bike handlebar for hours on end.

Once back on the bike I climbed the Bloody Dick Pass, not kidding you, it is really called that. I caught up to Tracey but never pulled up next to her. i just needed company. I was really hungary and even though I wasn’t sick any more the lack of nutrition really made me feel weak. I imagined the downhill to Jackson long and fun. We could ride in and have a burger together I fantasized. Then I would feel great. Just before we topped out on the pass, or at least what i thought was the top, I pulled over to urinate.

It was maroon color. Not the dark brown that I am used to but … red. Blood! I was urinating blood. I freaked out and sat down. Tracey was out of yelling reach and my phone was not working. My plan was to wait for Aaron and have him call for help down in the valley. And I waited. And waited. I grew so freaking scared that I decided that I had to continue. I just couldn’t think about it any more. Blood for god sake.

I found out that it was not all downhill and coasting was not a option. It was rolling and the road grew ever so increasingly rough until I started walking my bike and shouting obscenities at everything that moved. I didn’t want to put any effort into travel but I had to. I felt stranded and who knows when the next rider would come along. That stretch between when I saw Tracey last and Jackson was the longest I have ever pedaled.

Photo courtesy of Tracey Petervary

The first thing I downed was ice cream. I sat outside the general store thinking all elements of the world that I was still alive. But for how long. I was peeing blood and the last mile I had to promise a troll that if he gav me a ride into town I would give him my second born child. Of course I was lying but I think he knew that and loaded me onto his little wooden cart anyway. As soon as Jackson came into view it all vanished into thin air and I was left alone to walk my bike into town.

I called Mo to request extraction.

“How are you, are you OK?”

“No … it’s horrible … and I have a secret problem”

“What do you want to do?”

I glanced across the street and spotted Tracey’s bike leaning against the hot springs lodge. y spirits lifted and I forgot about my problems. Maybe it was the ice cream talking.

“Um, I am going to eat in the lodge and call you back to let you know”

“Ok”

I found Tracey in the back of the bar defending her position over a grilled cheese and fries. It was obvious she was about to leave as she was wrapping what it seemed to be some more grilled cheeses. And I learned that wrapping fries was a trick. And i followed suite by ordering, no kidding, One half pund buffalo bacon cheese burger, a order of sweet potato fries, a order of seasoned fries, and two BLT’s, I ate the burger and wrapped everything else. I think this “get food to go” lesson I learned from watching Tracey and Jay is in-valuable in these types of adventures. I left feeling a lot better and called Mo.

“I am going to go up the road and bivy out. i feel better. Let’s see how I feel in the morning”

Photo courtesy of Aaron Baldwin

And I was off.

Previous : Fitz-Barn Day 1 :: Next : Fitz-Barn Day 3

 

I awoke today with a pounding headache around 3 am. When I moved I would puke.  Vertigo at it’s worse. I desperately tried to figure it all out but it hurt to think.  Could it be the wildfire smoke in the air. Last night I had the beginnings of a headache and I did get a bit of car sickness.  But even if I figured it out the fact still remained that I was sick.

I did my best to march towards the start line. My plan was to down a ton of excedrin and then when it kicked in I would start the ride.  Even if it meant missing the start, I had the route on my GPS.  I didn’t care. I hurt. Bad.

Photo courtesy of Scott Fitzgerald

Thankfully for me the Spots didn’t arrive on time and by the time they did the excedrin was working.  I quickly put my bike together and strapped things down.  We were off and I pushed to the front.  I knew when the excedrin wore off I would have to bivy out until I got better.  Or down a bunch more excedrin … if I was lucky enough to find a store on route with drugs.

At Saint Anthony I was feeling the effects of excedrine and worst of all it was wearing off. Funny thing though, my mind didnt register with a returning headache and the need to buy more excrdrine.  I was worried about my stomach.  I got water at the first gas station I encountered and notice a wobble in my step.  My stomach was trashed by the drug cocktail and I just felt depleted.  I tried to eat a little coconut mana.

Moments later I was pulled over wishing I didnt eat something.  I was headed into the desert and reportedly some sand dune crossings. I assessed my water as adequate, got back on my bike, and trudged forward.

Photo courtesy of Tracey Petervary

The first half of the desert wasn’t bad.  I felt I was riding pretty good and was amazed at how easy it was to traverse the desert so quickly.  And it was remote too. Really freaking remote.  I mean sometimes the weathered double track disappeared and I had to rely on the GPS.  About 1/3 of the way through the hot dry land I started noticing some disturbing elements.

No trees and no shade.  I felt I needed to stop every hour to get out of the sun for just a bit.  When I did I felt better and kept a pretty good pace.  But after one stop the trees were gone. no shade. Nothing but rock.  And sand, sometimes deep enough to force a dismount and bike push.

By the time I emerged on the other side of the desert I was delirious.  Just beofre gaining the road into Debois I sat under a bush next to a gate.  It felt good and I slurped the last remaining water from my bottle.  After 5 minutes I decided I must continue on.  The desert was over and I couldnt wait to get to Debois … and Ice Cream.  I couldnt wait.

I stood but fainted back to the gound.  I couldn’t stand up and was so dizzy. I couldnt eat because I would hurl.  I laid on the ground for about 40 minutes.  After a while I could stand but felt horrable.  I slowly made it to Debois and passed out leaning up against  grocery store wall.  My plan was to get ice cream and water.  But I couldn’t stand up. I went in and out of consciousness.  I felt so completely beaten.  Here I was sleeping mid day and about to abandon the race.  I looked around for my phone.  

Photo courtesy of Aaron Baldwin

I decided to call Mo to have her drive to Debois when Jay P came pedaling up the road, pulling into a resturant across the street. He spotted me and waved so joyfully I just had to energetically raise my hand to eagerly greet him back.  And behind him was another rider … then Tracey.  I climbed up my bike wavering before I walked across the street. I sat down next to them in the cafe and reported that I was trashed. Then I proceeded to order a burger and fries. It is what they were doing.

Photo courtesy of Aaron Baldwin

The burger came up and before that I didnt find the energy to get excited enought to buy ice cream or anything at the grocery store. In fact when Aaron asked me if I wanted to buy any food I just waved my hand while trying to not barf.  I couldnt stand the sound of any food items.  And the burger I just ate was the hardest thing I ever ate.  And …. well, that didnt stay with me long.

Photo courtesy of Aaron Baldw
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Aaron gracously lead me up to what we thought was Bannock Pass. Instead of calling Mo to abandon I thought maybe if I could make it to Jackson where we could meet up and stay for a couple nights to recover. I fell asleep in my bivy wondering how I got so far since Debois.  So many times almost passing out as Aaron peddaled out in front of me. Keeping an eye on me as I faded.  When the small band comprised of Tracey, Aaron, and I stopped amongst sage brush on top of “something” and declaired that we were stopping I gladly collapsed in my bag and drifted off to sleep. Or maybe I passed out. I cant remember. The last thing I saw were the ememse stars.

Next :: Fitz-Barn Day 2 :: Fitz-Barn Day 3

In my mind is a meadow encompassed by towering cliffs. Inside this crown of rock is a Emerald Lake. My eyes start to regain focus from the dream and re-gain reality. We are coming into Salmon and the air is thick with smoke. We are on our way to the Fitz-Barn. It feels like I am coming down with the flu. Could it be the smoke in the air from the wild fires? Should I have not played with my new GPS while in the back seat … giving me motion sickness? I must put this all out of my mind because I embark on a 400 mile journey tomorrow morning. I drift back to my rock cirque.

It is hard to focus on a upcoming effort or journey with so much going in in societal life. Losing a position at work and being moved is far more distracting then I want it to be. I should b packing my bike for the Fitz-Barn. Or maybe just go out and hit some single track and hope that the woods will guide me. I think I will do that.

Sometimes work parallels life. Today if that is so then I was abducted. I was just moseying along a trail walking into the sunset on Truman Gulch and some dude came walking up the trail. I could tell he was out of shape by the way he was huffing and puffing. But no bother, right? Everyone is welcome to enjoy the trails. I moved to the side to let him by. He then grabbed me and said he was the new “CLO”.

“What is a CIO?”, I asked.

“Chief Land Officer. Are you making light of my powers, calling my status CIO? I will show you; you tiny ant. I am moving you to a new valley. From now on you will hike Sypes Canyon. Now get out of here and leave me to my land.”

Are Mondays really necessary. I mean of all the days I have endured in my lifetime it is Monday that seems to give me the most trouble.

Pros:

1. Rest?
2. Sorry folks I have nothing here.

Cons:

1. People disappear back to work.
2. You must hang out with people you pretend to like (work).
3. Your tired.
4. Your no longer out enjoying the world.
5. I guess what I am saying that it is a hard adjustment … mentally

In any case … I want out of the study.

Tails as trails? Slip of the tongue, but let’s dive in. Starting a post can be tricky, and no, trails definitely aren’t tails. Next weekend’s plan? Mostly road and double track, far from the rugged single-track I’m tackling now. Unlike Missoula’s smooth trails, Bozeman’s are a wild ride—more hike-a-bike than smooth sailing. So, trails vary greatly, each leaving a distinct impression. This one’s memory? A painful “OUCH!”