A Teacher trying to Divide -day 3

Heading to Rooseville, the US border

Wednesday July 10th



I left at about 7.00am to head for my first ‘A & W’ $10 breakfast.  The diner, the food and the other customers did not disappoint.  There was enough peace and quiet to spread out my map and plan out the day.  The coffee, toast and full ‘Canadian’ breakfast put fuel in the tank.  The three truckers in the booth beside me were happy to make conversation as well as keep an eye on my stuff when I went to the bathroom.  I had no regrets about chickening out from Flathead but still wanted to ride as much of the back trails and singletrack as I could.  One of the local truckers gave me good directions to clear Fernie and Highway 3 in order to get onto the two track of the alternate.

The road gradually climbed up and out with views of the ski hill across the valley.  I smiled when I passed a sign warning of bear activity in the area; then smiled even more when a couple of local women out walking said ‘Good Luck in Flathead!’  Eventually the road became gravel and I arrived at a Y-junction with one way going up and one way going down.  I had only brought the US 50K map SD cards so was using some sort of basemap for Canada along with my Adventure Cycling Association ‘Canada Section’ paper map.  The junction now gave me a third good reason to stop.  Since dipping my to into the water of long distance and multi-day riding I had always tried to not stop unless I had at least two real reasons, eg. eat something I couldn’t eat on the move, check navigation in detail, apply sunblock or fix some annoying mechanical.  In order to fix my ‘bag-buzz’ I propped my BigBro against a stone wall in order to completely remove my Terrapin holster and drybag  Basically I had too much kit, which was going to be addressed at a US Post Office today but for now I repacked my drybag and reconnected the holster to my seat which had been slightly raised...  At the same time I drank more water and had a granola bar to keep energy levels up.  I hate going down in the wrong direction only to have to come back up.  I’d always rather climb up too much so that at least you can use gravity to correct things.  A bit messed up I know but it works for me ok?  A bit like always climbing on the crest of an alpine ridge in order to see what is ahead unless you definitely know to traverse on the sides.  So down I headed and as soon as I hit the bottom of the section of trail there was a crap path alongside the railway line, or an undulating, muddy trail following power lines.  The muddy trail got really steep and eventually I had to push my bike up beside the power lines.  This route just didn’t feel right according to the ACA narratives…

Back to the junction where by now there was a truck and another tourist from New Zealand.  I explained what I was trying to do and he offered to help with his 4G mapping.  Eventually I decided to head on the upper track which turned out to be the right one, kind of...as it led down to the power lines.  The next section was steep but rideable which I enjoyed as it was a challenge and at last I seemed to be heading in the right direction.  I was close to Lodgepole River Road and then according to my map I would ride southwest to Elko.  After a couple of miles I passed another kiosk (Canadian for noticeboard) which again confirmed I was still on track.  Then it all stopped making sense.  Perhaps I still hadn’t really got my head around the scale of the ACA maps.  Maybe my Garmin basemap was lacking the detail I needed.  After some reflection I decided that the reason was much simpler than that - I had messed up my navigation!  So I doubled back to the kiosk, rode the bridge across the Elk River and hit Highway 3 promising myself not to waste any more time or energy.

The highway was not that bad, nor the scenery.  I exchanged friendly waves with northbound riders as the miles ticked by.  By the time I got to Elko I was into a great touring rhythm and making good time.  My drive to get over the Border was strong so I turned due south on Highway 93 which was going to take me all the way to Roosville and then Eureka.

By now the rain that was forecast began to fall but this did not make any difference to me as I was comfortable, happy and moving well.

Just north of Grassmere I caught up with three other riders who, judging by their loaded bikes, were also going south.  At the cafe/store there we all stopped to resupply and say hello properly.  Two riders from Idaho were on a four or five day trip while Curtis who was on his own had a lot more time at his disposal.  We all shared the same feeling of being so, so grateful to be riding our bikes with all our other responsibilities left at home.  Rain, or no rain we had somewhere to be so after a lunch of snack bars and soda we hit the road again.

At the Border we regrouped and joined the line as it slowly crept nearer and nearer to Montana.  I couldn’t resist texting my friend in San Francisco to tell him that this was his last chance to get the black helicopters dispatched to Roosville!  I was given the full welcome so I do wonder if Brett did tell them to check the Scottish guys Visa and papers!

The black helicopters never made it in time!

The black helicopters never made it in time!

Eureka came quickly, only 10 miles down the road.  I can’t remember who told me but there was free camping at the Town Hall across from the gas station and the river.  The catch was that some sprinklers came on at 7:00am and some at 8:00am.  I pitched my tent well away from the sprinklers I could see and close to a bench where I could prop my bike.  I then took a quick ride back up into town to post home some of the extra clothes that I had taken, eg. a windstopper gilet, a long sleeved top and a plastic ground sheet.  Even in Eureka PO folk were interested and friendly about a Scottish rider passing through.

Having lightened my load a little I decided that it was time to have dinner.  It was fun to head back up the hill on an unloaded bike to find a place to eat.  For dinner I joined some other riders who were doing a short three day ride from Whitefish where they had rented bikes and a shuttle.

‘Huckleberry burger’ caught my eye.  This was a generous burger with salad, sauces, chips and importantly a slice of huckleberry ice cream!  One of the best burgers I have ever had, my dinner companions even took a photo of it!

When I arrived back at the campground the place was mobbed with lots more riders from Whitefish.  I noticed that Curtis, one of the guys I had met in the afternoon had taken himself away from the main pitch and down by the river.  For a brief moment I considered moving to somewhere quieter but also wanted to experience being part of the friendly, excited buzz of bikepackers. After resupplying and using the gas station toilet for a wash I turned in for the night and sleep came quickly.  



Tomorrow was going to be my first 100 mile day, I needed a rest.



Fernie to Eureka, 63 miles, 2400 feet of ascent, 11 hours ( 6 hours riding + 2 stopped)



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A Teacher trying to Divide -day 4

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