We departed from Lincoln into 15-20 mph winds uphill toward our first U.S. Continental Divide Crossing, a task we will repeat 28 more times over the next few months.  Fortunately, the sun was out after a night of rain, although some ominous clouds lingered.  After a short bit of pavement, we turned onto a section of nice packed dirt through the woods, perfect mountain biking trails.  Well, except for a few sections of surprisingly deep mud. 

After tasting all manner of byproducts, we were finally powered by real huckleberries today when we stumbled upon a patch at the summit of today’s climb. Our destination for the day has the distinction of being the end point of the longest and costliest manhunt in U.S. history – Lincoln, former home of the Unabomber.

Powered (but most likely slowed) by the enormous steaks we had for Brett’s Birthday Dinner last night, we got a late start out of Seeley Lake. Compunding this was a lunch of greasy burgers and milk shakes. Out on the road, we felt slow and full in our spandex. Midway through the ride, we stopped in the quaint town of Ovando (Pop. about 50), not to be confused with Orlando. We learned the history of the town, including its role in the Lewis Minus Clark Expedition.

Over the course of our 2 month trip we each have the pleasure of celebrating a birthday. First up was myself, as today, the 23rd of August, I turn the big two-nine. As anyone with a late-August birthday knows, it’s an awkard time of the year to be born. You’re usually one of the oldest, or youngest, kids in your class. I happen to be the former, and my parent’s achieved this feat by making me repeat kindergarten twice. 

Today, we were powered by all varieties of huckleberry products (except actual huckleberries). Now a day behind from our “rain day” in Bigfork, we set out to make up some mileage and make it to Seeley Lake in two days, rather than our original plan of three. The day started with a climb over the mountains separating Flathead Lake and Swan Lake. It continued into the Swan Valley, between the Mission Mountains and the Swan Mountains.

The forecast called for heavy rain all day and with a long climb on dirt roads ahead, we decided to wait out the storm. Fueled by our hunter-gatherer skills, we rested up in Big Fork. Looking for ways to keep ourselves busy in this small lake town, we first employed our hunting skills. Armed with plastic bows and arrows from town, we went after all variety of game – from bronze animals to members of our own party. We then gathered all variety of huckleberry products – jam, gummie candy, soap, lip balm, chocolates, soda, ice cream, moisturizer, and beer, among others.

After a restful night in the home of Janina and Brian (Thanks!), energized by our first real, homecooked dinner and breakfast along with Who’s Your Daddy, we reluctantly set out for our first day of biking through the rain (we sucessfully avoided it the previous day by waiting until 5pm to depart on our short trip from Whitefish to Columbia Falls). We meandered through country roads for about 30 miles as the rain lightened and even looked as if it was about to clear. Just as we turned off route and started the two miles toward Bigfork the skys let loose a torrent of heavy rain.

Unlike many of the panoramic landscapes we’ve passed through our bikes have an extremely limited amount of room. After all the other necessities (food, water, tents, sleeping bags, etc), room for clothing is at a premium. All the clothing we carry must fit in a bag about the basketball, and well, 8 hot days into the trip, the few clothing items we have are pretty nasty.

We set out on what was supposed to be a 30 mile day up to Red Meadow Lake. Encouraged by the beauty of the mountain lake and the promise of a warm shower (with shampoo) and cold beer at the home of some picnicking Whitefishies, we decided to tackle an additional 30 miles to town (completing two days of riding in one). The ride became even longer as we systematically searched house-by-house through the town for our new friends home. Apparently Whitefish has more than one house with a green mailbox (the only specific information any of us could recall from the directions to the house). Our dreams shattered, we moved on to the aptly named Cheap Sleep Motel, RV Park, and campground where we set up camp behind a strip mall. We enjoyed a much needed dinner in town where our friendly waitress mistakenly offered to let us stay as long as we’d like. More than an hour past closing we were all nearly asleep in the booth when it became apparent that we should probably not take her up on her offer. We barely managed to stumble back to our RV park/campsite for the night.

Following a restful night avoiding spray-painting vandals and the lawn sprinkler system in the Eureka City Park, we spent a leisurely morning running errands. Our previous record for “most water used while filling our bottles” was shattered while refilling at a faucet we’ve officially named Niagara at Eureka. It was another Hot! Hot! Hot! day as we climbed over Whitefish Pass, causing us to down an amazing 400+ ounces of water over just 30 miles of riding. Exhausted, we arrived at Tuchuck campground to enjoy the 6-pack of Coors we hauled up 2,600 vertical feet.