July 3rd-8th

Well, howdy! It’s been a minute. When we last left off, I was drying out all of my earthly possessions on a barbed wire fence just south of Lima, MT. Once everything finally dried out, I started pedaling towards Lima, and thankfully, I only had to deal with some minor mud along the way, Actually, the longest delay of the day came courtesy of a cattle drive that was taking place, which was really fun to watch. One of the cowgirls came over to me and handed me a “Beef, it’s what’s for dinner” sticker as a gift. Too cool.

I rolled into Lima around 3 and headed straight towards the only cafe in town. The waitress (who was also the chef and owner) was the only person in there, and she made me one of the best hamburgers I’ve ever eaten. A guy walked in and sat at the bar as I was eating lunch and asked about my bike that was propped up against the wall outside. It was the usual line of questioning: where are you going? When did you start,” etc., and we had a nice conversation. I didn’t think much about it, but when I walked outside, I found a note on my bike with a $20 bill inside instructing me to have a drink on him once I got to Banff—the trail magic just keeps on happening, and this was maybe my favorite bit yet.

I grabbed a room at the motel across the street, did some laundry, and went back to the restaurant for dinner a couple of hours later. The next morning, I caught up with two guys I keep leapfrogging with, Alex and Will, who ended up staying at the same motel. They very smartly had waited a bit longer than me to get going the previous day, and ended up at a grocery store during the rain. A guy came up to them and asked if they were on the Divide, and then insisted they come back to his house to do laundry while they waited out the rain. The rain never stopped (as I knew very well), so the guy let them spend the night at his house. They were in much better spirits about the storm than I was.

Thankfully, the weather was better the morning of the 3rd and I got an early start with the goal of making it to Elkhorn Hot Springs about 80 miles up the road to meet Sarah, who had camped for the night outside of Rawlins, WY. She was going to drive through Yellowstone National Park that day, and then either meet me the night of the 3rd or the morning of the 4th.

Well, she did a quick loop through Yellowstone (on a holiday, no less) and had enough of the tourists, so she beelined straight towards my dot. I had a great ride that day and was so excited at the prospect of seeing Sarah for the first time in weeks that 80 miles flew by. We were going to stay at Elkhorn Hot Springs, but they ended up being completely booked, so we found a hunting lodge just down the road that had some availability—we figured we’d get plenty of time in the van over the next two weeks, so we’d treat ourselves to a room for the 4th of July.

I got to the Montana High Country Lodge first around 8:45pm, and honestly had no idea what to expect. I rolled up the long gravel driveway and rounded the corner towards the entrance to find a van with a trailer and about 20 bikes parked outside. Turns out there was a group of road cyclists on a supported tour with a company out of Portland staying there. The caretaker of the Lodge, Russ, was incredible and immediately brought me a beer when I rolled in. He apologized for the fact that the chef had already gone home for the evening and there wasn’t any more food, and I was about to make some ramen noodles for myself when the gal leading the bike tour offered me all of their leftover lunch from that day—score! I chatted with the other cyclists and ate an amazing spread of food until Sarah showed up around 10pm. What a sight for sore eyes she was stepping out of that van! That was easily the best view I’ve seen the entire trip.

The next morning, we ate breakfast with the other cyclists and took our time leaving the amazing High Country Lodge. I then pedaled a mere 6 miles up the road to Elkhorn Hot Springs, where we got a sweet campsite for the night of the 4th. I took a rest day, and we soaked in the springs all day and caught each other up on everything that’d gone on over the last couple of weeks.

On the 5th, I rode 86 miles from Elkhorn Hot Springs to Butte—turns out ditching some bags and having a good night’s rest does a lot for the ol’ engine. Since Sarah is here with the van now, I was able to ditch some things like my stove, tent, sleeping bag and pad, and carry significantly less food each day, which makes a huge difference. We camped at the KOA in Butte that night, which was the only camping option around.

I left Butte on the 6th with plans to make it to Helena that afternoon (another 80ish miles), and Sarah was going to fish a nearby river that day. I made it about 40 miles when my chain popped off on a downhill, and as I was putting it back on I realized how incredibly stretched out the chain was. As I was working on that, a group of Southbound riders came by and offered to help me (they had a few more tools, etc.). They measured my chain gap and took one look at the rest of my drivetrain and and confirmed what I’d been thinking: everything was completely worn out and would need to be replaced as soon as possible.

We patched things up as best we could and I rode a little further until I found the van and met Sarah for lunch. We talked about our options with my bike, and realizing it was Saturday, started texting Mom via inReach to find out how late the bike shops in Helena were open, and whether they were closed on Sunday. Turns out the shop was open until 5 and closed on Sunday, which meant our best option was to drive into Helena and see if they could work on the bike that afternoon (thanks, Mom!)—otherwise we would have had to burn a day in Helena waiting for the shop to open Monday, or I’d have to try to limp another few hundred miles to Whitefish on a worn out drivetrain and hope nothing catastrophic happened. 

One of the many amazing things about having Sarah and the van with me now is that mechanical issues like this become significantly less serious. We drove about 30 minutes to Helena (which would have taken me several hours on the bike), and got to Great Divide Cyclery with plenty of time to spare. They were amazing and were able to squeeze me in and get all the work done before they closed—Stachley (my bike, a Trek Stache) needed a spa day, and got a new cassette, chain, front chainring and new brake pads. Turns out riding your bike a couple thousand miles will do that… 

Sarah and I hung out in Helena the rest of the afternoon while we waited for the bike and had a nice dinner downtown while listening to some live music. Afterwards we drove back to where I’d pulled off the trail and camped nearby so I could pick up where I left off in the morning. 

Since I only got about 40 miles in before the drivetrain gave out, I was a little behind schedule and needed to have a big day on the 6th. I noticed on the map there was a famous stop called “The Llama Ranch” about 70 miles away, so that’s where we decided to meet that night. I took off after a big breakfast in the van and Sarah went out in search of Trout on the Missouri River that day. The riding around Lava Mountain turned out to be significantly more challenging that day, and felt much more like New Mexico than the Montana I’d experienced so far. The hills were very steep and punchy, the roads were rough, and over 70 miles I climbed about 7500ft (I’d only had one other day in the Gila with that much climbing). It was quite the day, but again, much easier to deal with knowing Sarah was waiting for me at the other end.

I was super excited about the prospect of staying at the Llama Ranch because I’ve been sort of obsessed with the idea of getting some Llamas on our farm and using them as pack animals for hunting (it’s a thing, look it up). They’re also supposed to be great guard animals for the rest of the flock, so I was hoping Sarah would fall in love and we’d be getting some Llamas soon. Well, it turns out the Llama Ranch has a brand identity problem, and they actually don’t have any Llamas. Just 3 Alpacas… Which actually was pretty poetic given Sarah and I live next door to about 40 Alpacas in Santa Fe.

The real beauty of the Llama Ranch, though, wasn’t the Alpacas or Horses, but the people. I pulled in to the ranch to find around 30 cyclists milling around, and Sarah sharing a glass of wine on the porch of a cabin with 5 other cyclists. They all cheered for me as I pulled up, and after Sarah made me yet another dinner we sat and talked with them till nearly midnight. One of them was a gal from Boulder named Chelsea, who’d ridden with Mitch for several days after we parted ways in Kremmling (Mitch had texted me about her and some other folks, and hoped we’d all meet up at some point). Chelsea rode from her house in Boulder and is heading to Anchorage by bike after finishing the Divide. Tom and Becca are from northern England and nearing the end of a 2-year cycling trip around the world—they’ve ridden their bikes so many places, including Georgia, Kyrgyzstan, Australia, New Zealand, Mexico, and many more countries. The other couple was from New Zealand and also on a multi-year cycling tour around the world—there was no shortage of stories and plenty of entertainment (and tea, courtesy of Tom).

The Llama Ranch itself is run by Barbara and John, and is really a story in it’s own right. Barbara has lived in the area for 35 years (since before the GDMBR was a thing), and one day noticed a lot of cyclists riding by her place. She decided to open up her land for camping, and since then it’s developed into a paradise for cyclists. John rode through one day, met Barbara, and came back a year later to help out and never left. They have several cabins fully stocked with food and drinks that folks can stay in, or you’re welcome to pitch your tent (or park your van) anywhere you’d like. They make sure everyone leaves with a sandwich, and don’t accept any money to stay on the property, asking only that you “pay it forward” down the line. Barbara made 5000 sandwiches last year, and they’re planning to host around 900 cyclists this year alone—their biggest year yet. Talk about trail angels! 

Yesterday, the 7th, I rode with Chelsea, Tom and Becca from the Llama Ranch to Ovando. We had a great ride and it was an absolute delight to pedal with new friends for a day. We made it to Ovando around 6, and found Sarah waiting for us at the Community Center—the basement of a local church that’s open to cyclists. Sarah, of course, had already made friends with several other cyclists while she waited for me to get there (she’d even driven two different cyclists into Helena and Lincoln. She’s definitely “Paying it forward” out here!). The community center has a full kitchen and bathroom, and is an incredible respite for cyclists after a hot day on the bike. 

I’m off for Holland Lake or beyond today, and excited to continue making progress. I’m sure Sarah will chime in with a post of her own shortly.