Scott Junker Rides the Great Divide
Journal #6
Hello all-
I know it's been a few days and that some of you are concerned (particularly my parents, whose faith in me seems to have been completely depleted.) But I have been having a great time and have had no major troubles. Let's start back in Helena, Montana...
After sleeping late in a big bed and feasting on the continental breakfast at the hotel I got something of a late start, and climbed out of town into the surrounding hills. Somewhere in there, I met my parents for a picnic lunch and my Dad almost rode off on the bike, if the saddle had been a tad lower he might have gone right on to Mexico.
A little further on, the trail was closed to motor vehicles but the map showed a way around the closure, I opted to go the distance with them but we soon ran into some technical sections, which put the rental car through it's paces and concerned my mother greatly. She seems to believe that the entire trail has been technical remote, singletrack when in fact this was the first bit of trail on which I would hesitate to drive a Honda Insight (aside from that bit in Alberta). In an effort to save my mother's rapidly fraying nerves, I rode in the car all the way into Butte (even though this precludes my ability to register as officially completing the trail, I believe it to have been worthwhile.)
In Butte, we checked into another hotel and had dinner at a restaurant/casino/lounge and failed to grasp Keno, but my father's steak was much better than the previous one in Helena.
In the morning I woke earlier than my progenitors and headed for the continental breakfast which included biscuits and gravy as a 'Local Specialty' I returned to my room and headed back out to have coffee with their breakfast. At breakfast, they presented birthday presents of new shorts and a can of bear pepper spray. Although, I'm sure that it's a smart thing to have, I'm ambivalent about the pepper spray. I packed up my whole mess while Dad installed new tread on my shoes (I had killed the original tread in the last three years but thanks to Sundance it's all there again.)
After a stop at the gas station air hose to swap to fresh, knobby tires (I started out with nearly-worn-out file-treads which were now slicks) I hit the road again. My parents met me outside of town for final goodbyes and wished me luck with tears in their eyes. They seem infinitely more concerned than confident.
The trail lead through high Alpine meadows and I paused at a mountain top for lunch and to let a storm pass. It wasn't much further until I ran into a couple who had passed me earlier going the same direction, they warned me of a road closure ahead but didn't seem worried in the least about how I might get through it. A few hundred yards later there was a gate across the road and a sign proclaiming that if I continue further, I would be "arrested and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law" which I assumed was a stiff one for trespassing in Montana. I attempted to contact the landowner and in spite of the efforts of Special Ed he could not be located so I went on through his land with an eye out for angry, gun-toting ranchers. I made it through to the other side and inquired at the next town about the ferocity of this rancher, apparently "He's a Mean Cuss" and regularly chases people off with guns, also there is a legal easement across his land but he doesn't like it.
I made it through though and feel bad for all the other great dividers who'll run up against him. I rode on to the town of Wise River where all of the campgrounds were full so I rode on down the route to the next campground which had only three sites and no water supply, but a quick stream in which I bathed.
Dinner-Sleep-Big Storm-Sleep -Coffee and on down the trail which lead through more Alpine meadow to a double-lane, recently graded, loamy seven mile descent into Polaris. On the way, I met an anti-social guy named Bruce who was also riding the Divide trail, he's doing it on his '95 Pro-Flex complete with Girvin fork and what appeared to be OEM tires. I feel sorry for him. I continued on, riding on the highway to Bannack State Park and across the Bannack Bench, which is a desert like prairie, and skirted past an on-coming storm (the sky is big enough that one can see them coming and go around.)
I had planned to camp in the town of Grant, but upon arrival a sign announced that the 'town' was "Closed for the Season". I got the impression that it had been closed for quite a few consecutive seasons.
I rode on to an intersection where I met two ranchers, Gene and Tom, who were familiar with the Divide trail and recommended a common Divide rider campsite in the ditch by the road. I camped there and slept well.
When I awoke in the morning, I startled the cattle and they made quite a racket. I started riding sans breakfast and headed along the highway towards an RV park lookinbg for coffee, donuts, and a small store. The RV park had been closed up and abandoned. No food. I rode on towards the town of Dell but had to stop along the way for a Clif bar (thanks Biff). A passing motorist offered a Propel which was ice cold. In Dell I had a quart of coffee and a whole Box of Lil' Debbie coffee cakes (breakfast of champions).
From there it was a short spin into Lima (pronounced Lyme-uh) and I arrived just in time for the Independence Day Parade which included kids on tricycles, riding mowers, pack animals, and tractors. A few people invited me to the town park for a pot-luck lunch after the parade. I changed into some normal clothes and headed over. In the park I met Alan Martinell who introduced me to a host of other kind people who all tried to feed me. The fire department grilled burgers and they were served up with all kinds of side dishes and a big slice of berry pie for dessert. After lunch, I headed up the Centennial Valley and found out that Mr. Martinell owns about a third of the valley and has about two thousand head of cattle on that land. Montana has happy cows too.
I camped in a wetland area that had so many birds that insects were not a problem.
I woke in the morning to honking swans and cattle lowing from across the valley. Much coffee and rode onward. The mosquitoes in this region are large enough to cover a dime and they have a pronounced bite. Onward and crossed the Divide/ Idaho State line. A few miles on this side, I stopped at an RV park to do laundry and a photographer traded me a $5 shower for some pics of me riding, I whored it up, and the shower was as hot and long as anyone could want.
I got back on the bike all loose and limber and spun easily to the highway, so easily in fact that I missed a couple of turns and ended up a few miles further down the road than I had expected. I didn't care and cranked into Ashton just before sundown. It was an 88 mile day (58 off road, 30 on) so I ate a gluttonous dinner of Blue cheese double cheeseburger with a pile of tots and milkin the diner at the edge of town and camped in the town park.
I rose just after dawn and wandered into town in search of the coffee shop with all the old men. The Trail's Inn did not disappoint and I quickly fell in with the local octogenarians for a gallon or so of hot coffee with some eggs. I've been wandering around town waiting for the Library to open so that I could send this message and I'm going to try for Teton National Park for this evening. I'm making long days of it and plan to take a day off in Steamboat next week but I'm still shooting for the under 40 day trip (rest days not included) and should be at the southern border in the first week of August.
Still on the bike and doing just fine despite my parents' fears and misgivings,
Scott
Postscript:
I'll be making a mail stop in Pinedale, Wyoming 82941 in about four days. Please nothing heavy or bulky (baked goods excepted)
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