I wrote this blog title last night. I should’ve titled it after my favorite Dr. Seuss story… what was I scared of? Geeto and I were quite concerned about the 20 miles of uphill to start the day, most of it on unpaved roads. But there was only one section too steep to ride for 2/3rds of us (Geeto won the polka dot headset today for powering up). It was really quite a luxurious and relaxing climb.
When we stopped at an occasional overlook, we could see the mining industry at Hecla’s Lucky Friday mine, we could hear the trucking industry on I-90 rolling along to our west side, and we could feel nature with the occasional Indian Paintbrush brushing our shins or Aspen leaf glancing our arms. It’s crazy we were so anxious about this yesterday. In fact, as we straddled our bikes to roll away from the hotel this morning we had a brief chat about considering the route that Apple Maps recommended that avoids the Forest Service road. Instead we stayed the course and it was lovely in every way: scenic, physically unchallenging, conducive to side-by-side conversational riding, cool and crisp… what were we afraid of indeed!






After 3 hours, we were at the summit of our climb: Lookout Pass Ski Resort. It was odd to see quite a few people at this elevation, where they were renting mountain bikes to tourists to ride down the nursery slopes after riding the gondola to the top. We remain worried about the Trek standard tires for Crocket and Charlie Brown, so I asked the staff there if they could sell us a spare tire. After a brief discussion with a few staff, Richey came walking toward me with a tire. I told him my friends were riding 700x42mm tires and could really use a spare tire. He had in his hand a 27”x1.75” tire for their rental bikes. He said he couldn’t sell it to me, but if we need it and it fits, then we can have it. He was the most helpful and gracious guy we’ve found in the bike industry so far. Thanks Richey… I hope we don’t need your tire but it’s a great security blanket!

Other than the brief Richey exchange, we recognized we were: 1) Cresting our summit, 2) Crossing from Idaho to Montana, 3) Crossing the continental divide. This was an epic triumvirate on paper, at the moment… meh. We were all likely thinking: we’ve been on the saddle for three hours and made it only 20 miles… let’s roll.


What I recognized (again) as we left the Lookout Pass summit, the three of us are are inclined to act immediately as soon as we’ve made up our mind. In this instance, we talked for 30 seconds after we took our “Welcome to Montana” photo, then I went forward on a paved road, that I thought Lecy said, “This is the way Apple Maps said to go.” And I thought Geeto said, “Strava says we go left here” (which we were). We flew downhill on a paved road at 20-25mph for a mile or more, but relatively quickly I recognized that Strava said I was off route. After a few minutes I stopped. Geeto agreed we were off route, and was somewhat dismayed that we got off route in the first place as he said, “ I told you Strava had us going right.” Lecy was unconcerned as he said “Apple has us going on this road.” But from what I could tell, this road would go a few quick miles, then dead end at a river on the other side of I-90. It looked like there were a few place where the “right route” and this paved road converged… so we carried on another 1/2 mile.
After a few hundred yards explorative trail running in biking shoes, then riding onwards up another primitive road, we could see the Forest Service road we were meant to travel… up a short steep slope. We threw bags up the hill then encouraged our steeds, and found ourselves more exhausted than we’d been all day: a steep 25’ haul was more draining than 2,100 feet of climbing for 3 hours.



After we got on the correct route, we were on a downhill Forest Service road that was similar to our ascent; the uphill was much more enjoyable than the downhill. The first 3-5 miles were jarring – hard packed with loose and embedded cobble; we travelled this cautiously at 7-9mph. When we hit the 30-mile marker for the day, road conditions improved a bit, so we eased off the breaks and went 10-12mph. After we got more comfortable (and bored) we threw caution to the wind and imagined we were on mountain bikes… 15, 16, 17mph! Except for another exhausting haul to the top of a railroad trestle where we lunched on PBJ, we flew along, though in a shaking and straining procession.






After several more rattling gravel miles, we arrived at a junction next to I-90 where we realized we could travel the paved frontage roads for 3+ miles to DeBrogia MT. We passed a little shop that sold 200 flavors of milk shakes; we paid $12 dollars for 3 bottles of water (which is cheaper than at Wrigley Field). Then somehow we missed DeBrogia and traveled a few miles further (downhill) on the frontage road to where it dead-ended. I don’t know if any one of us is to blame for this navigation error, but we were not going to be traveling backwards. Instead, we crossed 4 lanes of I-90 and rode this south to the next exit. We have a credo to avoid unpaved roads (though after today, we need to refine that as it depends on the gravel). We have a credo not to resort to cannibalism no matter what happens (though Geeto never fully agreed to that, and he seemed to be excited seeing how Lecy tenderized his plantar eminence trying to hammer his bike tire off in Tekoa). And we have a credo to avoid the interstate highway travel at all costs (now Geeto seems to have developed an interstate addiction, and Lecy and I have softened on this standard). So, we crossed the highway and felt we were shot from a cannon going 20, 25, 30 mph on the I-90 shoulder (sorry wives and mom, we think this was the best choice).





In the end, we rode on I-90 three times today. It was not dangerous, though not relaxing.
I need a quick aside here about “Over The Road” truckers. May cousin Gary was an OTR guy, so was his dad as was our grandpa. I made some statements days ago about OTR trucking being a form of eternal damnation, but that’s only because I would find it miserable. I have no complaints about OTR men and women. In fact, the OTR folk have been the most courteous and friendly. Wait… as I’m writing this I realize maybe I’ve said this already? I need some sleep. I hope to not end up on the Interstate again, but if I do, I know the OTR folk are looking out for us.
We stopped at a travel center in St. Regis where exiting the interstate Lecy got a flat tire (if you’re keeping score at home: Lecy – 3, Geeto – 2, Gypsy – 0). Surprisingly as we went to change the inner tube, we discovered that the 5 tubes Lecy bought in Harrison ID have Schaeffer valves; these Trek bike rims are made for Prestas. For those that don’t know, a Schaeffer tube won’t fit a Presta rim. Luckily, I had one more Presta tube for my steed that we hope will be sufficient to get us to Missoula tomorrow. 🤦♂️
We had a nice slushie break, then traversed along Old Highway 10 where we paused in the Clark Fork River and counted our many blessings (list topped by our wives who’ve enabled us to do this). We stopped for the day at the Big Sky Motel in Superior MT where we’re in one of less than 1% of US hotel rooms that has 3 beds! We covered 72 miles today and at the end of the day I felt fresher than the start of most days. We have challenges ahead soon, but after today, maybe I shouldn’t be too scared.








It’s late, and I don’t have a Strava map for tomorrow; it should be a relatively simple 67-mile journey and various paved side roads; we hope it will be unexceptionable. We need to arrive at a bike shop in the early afternoon to sort out the Trek tire and tube situation.
For songs today, this one played in my head a few times; seems Levin Helm has been cycling through my Spotify a bit since my Mississippi journey:Battle Is Over But the War Goes On
Also… since we finally had a relaxing evening around the pool table with a few beers: Down Drinking at the Bar
All good… more or less on track… blessed with love and laughter
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