Date Sunday, August 22, 2010
Start: 0800 (0545 wake-up)
Finish: 2000
Travel Time: 12 hrs
Distance: 339 miles
Total Distance Covered: 1737 miles
Once again a super early start. It was nice getting a bit more shut-eye than the first three nights. We put a little extra care into the bike check this morning because if all went well, we'd be on the trail this afternoon. It was drizzly out when we started and we were sent off by a rainbow just over the adjacent building.
Shortly after crossing over the MT border we came up on the Libby dam. We stopped for a few pics, but the anticipation of reaching the start of the CDT had us quickly back on the road again. Before we knew it, we were in Roosville. We filled our tummies with fried chicken and then hit the grocery and hardware store for some essential snacks and last minute items for the adventure. I was so anxious to hit the trail, I left my credit card at the gas station, which made it that much more excruciating to have to turn around and pick it up. Eventually, we made it to the border. We contemplated actually crossing over into Canada just for the photo op of us heading into the US, but no way was it worth waiting in the line of cars.
So this was it. Yobo said many times that he felt this was the actual start of the trip for him. One of the best moments for me was leaving his apartment, but I must say this point was pretty epic. Knowing what we went through on roads just to get here really put things into perspective. We now had 12 days in front of us to get to Mexico. My experience riding off tarmac prior to this point was a few hours in the Jersey Pine Barrens and Yobo didn't have much more. Regardless, there's no one I would have rather had at my side for this phase of the adventure.
The first stretch was a mix of pavement and dirt roads as we made our way deeper into the woods. The roads appeared to be used for logging and access to some back country campsites. To say it was gratifying to finally break free of the pavement is a gross understatement. The road eventually opened up and we had a pretty spectacular view of the west side of Glacier National Park. It was tough to stop taking pictures of the trails and vistas whenever these views presented themselves. The dirt roads were a blast. Lots of curves and lots of holes to avoid. As we got deeper and deeper into the woods the sky became more and more ominous and we soon found ourselves in the midst of an early-evening MT hailstorm. Baptism by fire I guess.
I couldn't help but think what kind of beating my bike was taking. I tried to avoid as many holes as possible, but some were just too tough to miss. Will these bikes last 2700 miles of trails??? This is a riot because not long after, we're speeding along, when all of a sudden my bike veers of f to the left. I hear Yobo over the intercom..."Dude! You lost your pannier!!!" I looked backed and it was already out of site. We recovered the pannier, but I was missing some of the fasteners that held it on. As we were evaluating the situation, someone comes walking down the road. Remember this is out in the middle of nowhere MT. Turns out Ted rode motorcycles and worked for Boeing. We chatted about our trip and we all worked up a quick fix using my ROK Straps. Seriously, these things are bomber and a must for any adventure. The case actually seemed more secure than without the strap. We said our good-byes and headed towards Whitefish.
--yobo here - so I have to chime in on this part. Goda hits the nail on the head when he says we were wondering about our bikes holding up to the beating. To start, the trails were more like one-and-a-half-lane dirt roads. You could these roads were at least minimally maintained because there was typically a good amount of thumb-sized rocks layered over the dirt. This helped keep water flowing off the trails and thus, prevents any serious trail erosion, potholes, etc... but as the day wore on the trails went from access roads to straight up four wheeling trails. They were rutted, and potholed, and much more muddy than anything we'd encountered before. Like Goda said, you do your best to pick the right line through the crags, pits, pots, and football sized rocks that occasionally stuck out of the trail, but every once in awhile you just nailed one of those suckers and it really got you thinking.
So our first mishap occurs... just as we got back onto some of the more groomed access roads, out of the hail storm, and within sniffing distance of proper tarmac, I see it happen... We were "just riding along" (inside joke to mechanics in the industry) when I see 40lbs of aluminum suddenly give way and start spinning down the road wildly. Goda's bike wobbled, veered, and then regained its line and both of us "exclaimed" into our headsets. The pannier had tumbled a bit, and settled on its side, and was presently spinning like a giant ninja star headed right for my front tire. (In truth, it probably wasn't headed right for my front tire, but that's all i could think about as I veered my bike left in an attempt to balance what I felt was the safe limit of fast-maneuvering.) To anyone who has ridden moto, you know there's a sort of eerie calm and focus that comes with those close calls or otherwise emergency-type situations.
In no time, we had come to a stop, popped off the bikes and headed up the hill to access the situation. We had passed out trial by fire, for now anyway, and it was honestly sort of a relief to have had this happen. The wonder and anticipation can take a back seat to solving the problem and getting back on schedule.
Our friendly wilderness visitor, Ted, added a friendly word as we pulled away.
"Hey guys," he said,
...
"Stay off the roads..."
Cool as a cucumber. --yobo
It was dark and drizzling when we hit the town. Whitefish is a big resort town in close proximity to several lakes and mountains. We found a room at the Whitefish Dowtown Motel and snagged some eats at the Craggy Ranch. Both of us housed some of the best Mac n Cheese we'd ever had while enjoying some motocross on the TV. Fantastic finish to our first day on the trail.
/s/ Goda
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