Continental Divide Ride July 16, 2009
 

Our route for today is here.


Our cumulative route is here.



    “Yeah our prices have increased and if I had a stick of dynamite, I’d blow that billboard to pieces.”

                            Motel owner explaining to Ron why he was charged            more than their billboard advertised      



    “The weather channel says it’s 37 degrees outside,” Meredith said.

    And I believed it.  My breath was fogging rather easily and the air had a healthy bite to it when I went outside.

    Neither of our bikes are particularly interested in cranking when it’s cold for prolonged periods of time, like overnight, but we coaxed them into sparking when necessary. 

    Our cozy motel, the Leeper’s Motel, had suited us well for the night, but we pulled away from Lincoln, Montana a little after 7 A.M. and headed south into Helena National Forest.

   
The roads were immediately good gravel again and we were soon climbing one of many passes we would ride during the day.  The mountains were still emerald, with a touch of snow on some of the highest peaks.

    We rode for the better part of three hours without seeing a soul.  Up and down we went, all the while the scenery just kept coming.

    At one point, we came to a summit called Granite Butte Peak.  It was a windswept peak, covered in green grass. 
The wind was blowing quite hard, but the views were outstanding.

    After about 60 miles of gravel, we came to U.S. Highway 12 and crossed it.

    Our objective was a little spot on the map called Basin, Montana.  But we first had to cross another range of mountains.  The road was practically a interstate made of gravel and we zoomed along at 50 mph.  Eight miles in, the road started to narrow and become more rough. 

    I missed a turn and we had to backtrack a bit.  In a tight turn, Meredith dumped her bike, then I dumped my bike.  It was an eventful five minutes.

    We kept going and the road kept getting fainter and fainter.  We passed through a gate, but the road was still public.  We were warned of a bridge being out, but we crossed the creek with no problems.

    The road was now nothing more than a rock strewn two track, with a bit of mud thrown in from snowmelt and recent rains.

    Meredith tipped over in a muddy area and we spent a few harried minutes righting the whale and were sweat drenched when we finished.

    We kept going, knowing we weren’t far from the top and the hamlet of Basin was over the ridge. 

    A few hundred yards on further from where Meredith got stopped, we came to a fairly steep, technical, rocky uphill.  I told Meredith to wait and I picked my way up it, slowly.  I went on up the hill maybe a mile and the trail seemed to get smoother.

    So I came back down to Meredith and decided to ride her bike through the rock garden. 

   
Well, what transpired was a fairly spectacular display of pinball-type riding.  I hit the the first rock, and, at no point was I ever straight to the road again.  At some point, my front wheel rolled over a large rock protruding from the ground.  When my skidplate hit it, it bucked the bike enough that I was immediately looking for a place to land, hopefully on my feet.  Thankfully, I did.

    Once again, with much exertion, and plenty of swearing, we righted the blimp and made it on up the hill.

   
After all that exertion, you can imagine our chagrin when we rode on up the hill maybe a mile more and came to a gate across the road.  Grrrr.  No way around, with a lock on the gate, there was nothing to do but go back the way we came.  Grrrr.  I do not like it Sam I Am. So it was back down the rock garden, back across the creek, but this time an  uneventful trip

    Back on Highway 12, we scooted west to Interstate 90 and then south to Butte where we regained the trail south of the city, and several hours later.

    I have to say the trail was outstanding there.  We passed through the city of Wise River and entered the Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest.  We turned south on Forest Road 73 and immediately were
surrounded by the Pioneer Range of mountains.  Steep and craggy on the east and smooth and rounded on the west, they were a sight to see.  Plenty of moisture has created green fields.

    The ride was great and we soon were back down to the down of Dillon, Montana where we will stay for the night.  See y’all down the trail. 


                                                       July 17