Plummer to Wallace
Bike adventure continues! Proof on Strava!
So, turns out that I went a bit over the limit with what will from this day forth be known as the Swamp Hike. Shoving a bike with wheels that wouldn't roll up 12% pitch after 12% pitch through rolling farmland in the rain is super-threshold work, it turns out, and an hour of that after 100 miles on the bike put me in a very bad place physically. Had trouble finding an appetite for dinner, and then slept very poorly to boot; too much caffeine with dinner, maybe, or maybe just trashing my body. The lesson, if there is one? No Swamp Hikes after 330 miles on the bike in 3 days.
The upshot to only sleeping about 5 hours last night is that I wound up coming up with a plan, the beginning of which I executed today. First: squirt a bunch of lube on my front hub. Well, --in-- my front hub? But sealed bearing is sealed, so that might have been just a placebo.
Second, fart around the motel room trying to work up the nerve to go ride my bike in the rain all damned day. Then wander over to the terrible diner where I couldn't really eat dinner to be vaguely able to hold down some breakfast. Then wander back. Fart around some more. Get dressed to ride, pack up, and discover that it's stopped raining! Huzzah!
Third, roll 16 easy miles to Harrison, where there's a place called the Brewhaus (maybe?) that advertises brews and bikes, has a small bike shop, serves coffee and beer and awesome pretzels, and generally rocks. There, a 25 year-old looking boy (I say boy because he turned out to be 17 when I tried to buy him a thank you beer; dude has more beard than I can grow) named Caden pulled my front hub apart, cleaned it out as best he could manage, and repacked it with grease. His description of the inside included the words "dry," and "dirty," so... Hopefully the wheel is fixed? Didn't get going fast enough to find out today.
Mind you, this super-hip little bike-shop-slash-coffee-slash-beer spot is in a town that covers maybe 6 square blocks total; not what I expected from rural Idaho at all. But it turns out that there's a bike trail called the Trail of the Cour d'Alenes that runs ~45 miles through the Idaho wilderness down an old rail line (Burke Gilman eat your heart out) before following 90 East for about 25 miles. Aaaaaand so this particular tiny town has an awesome little bike destination in it. Also, by the way: This trail is GORGEOUS. The pictures don't do it justice. It's a decently smooth ribbon of asphalt that just goes and goes for what feels like forever through empty, flat Idaho countryside, hugging a lake and then a river for most of it. You get to cross a full-on railroad trestle. It's amazing. Do recommend, much better than Swamp Hikes.
Anyway. Fourth. Call it a day after 65 miles, get set up for the night in Wallace, ID, which has both lots of sketchy lodging (hello there, Brooks Hotel, you look like you could use a to-the-studs remodel into a sweet little getaway spot but as you are I'll be warm and dry for the night) and a bunch of fun little restaurants. I'm writing this from Club 1313, which feels NOTHING like it sounds; the food is good and the beer is cold (and also good) and the people are awesome. It's almost 7pm, I'm almost done with dinner, and I've already showered and done laundry in the laundromat across from the hotel. And I even got a late start!
Wait, 65 miles? That's not enough, you say! You're damned right it's not. Parts Five, Six, and Seven of the plan are now Ride to St. Regis, Ride to Missoula, and Take a Damned Bus to Bozeman. I was (and probably remain) a little over the limit already at 110-120 miles a day. Even money whether I'd be physically capable of maintaining that pace, but I'd be a hot mess even if I made it. As I understand them, the spousal conditions of my ride are 1) show up on time, and 2) don't behave as though you're shattered from a bike ride. 1) is 50-50 and 2) is right out if I try to ride all the way to Bozeman at this point.
Mostly, I shattered pretty badly yesterday. Swamp Hike was pretty intense; I had no way of knowing how long it would go on, and with no cell signal, that whole "I might be out here hiking in this shit for hours" feeling took its emotional toll as well. If you'd asked me at 8pm last night, I would have told you I was done, and that I needed to figure out ground transport from Plummer somehow.
But a couple things stopped me. First, turns out that would have been a HUGE pain in the ass, and probably north of $1000 all told. And one that I could still try after riding back from Harrison, if the bike shop thing didn't work out. Second, well... There's quitting, and then there's quitting. Acknowledging my own limits and making the most of the fact that I'm out here in a seriously beautiful part of the world, with a far away deadline and a bicycle? Is that quitting? Maybe. But I had a really nice ride today, and I feel good now, and I'll almost certainly be at the wedding on time after a couple more "easy" bike rides through ID/MT back roads. I refuse to be down about it.
So, turns out that I went a bit over the limit with what will from this day forth be known as the Swamp Hike. Shoving a bike with wheels that wouldn't roll up 12% pitch after 12% pitch through rolling farmland in the rain is super-threshold work, it turns out, and an hour of that after 100 miles on the bike put me in a very bad place physically. Had trouble finding an appetite for dinner, and then slept very poorly to boot; too much caffeine with dinner, maybe, or maybe just trashing my body. The lesson, if there is one? No Swamp Hikes after 330 miles on the bike in 3 days.
The upshot to only sleeping about 5 hours last night is that I wound up coming up with a plan, the beginning of which I executed today. First: squirt a bunch of lube on my front hub. Well, --in-- my front hub? But sealed bearing is sealed, so that might have been just a placebo.
Second, fart around the motel room trying to work up the nerve to go ride my bike in the rain all damned day. Then wander over to the terrible diner where I couldn't really eat dinner to be vaguely able to hold down some breakfast. Then wander back. Fart around some more. Get dressed to ride, pack up, and discover that it's stopped raining! Huzzah!
Third, roll 16 easy miles to Harrison, where there's a place called the Brewhaus (maybe?) that advertises brews and bikes, has a small bike shop, serves coffee and beer and awesome pretzels, and generally rocks. There, a 25 year-old looking boy (I say boy because he turned out to be 17 when I tried to buy him a thank you beer; dude has more beard than I can grow) named Caden pulled my front hub apart, cleaned it out as best he could manage, and repacked it with grease. His description of the inside included the words "dry," and "dirty," so... Hopefully the wheel is fixed? Didn't get going fast enough to find out today.
Mind you, this super-hip little bike-shop-slash-coffee-slash-beer spot is in a town that covers maybe 6 square blocks total; not what I expected from rural Idaho at all. But it turns out that there's a bike trail called the Trail of the Cour d'Alenes that runs ~45 miles through the Idaho wilderness down an old rail line (Burke Gilman eat your heart out) before following 90 East for about 25 miles. Aaaaaand so this particular tiny town has an awesome little bike destination in it. Also, by the way: This trail is GORGEOUS. The pictures don't do it justice. It's a decently smooth ribbon of asphalt that just goes and goes for what feels like forever through empty, flat Idaho countryside, hugging a lake and then a river for most of it. You get to cross a full-on railroad trestle. It's amazing. Do recommend, much better than Swamp Hikes.
Anyway. Fourth. Call it a day after 65 miles, get set up for the night in Wallace, ID, which has both lots of sketchy lodging (hello there, Brooks Hotel, you look like you could use a to-the-studs remodel into a sweet little getaway spot but as you are I'll be warm and dry for the night) and a bunch of fun little restaurants. I'm writing this from Club 1313, which feels NOTHING like it sounds; the food is good and the beer is cold (and also good) and the people are awesome. It's almost 7pm, I'm almost done with dinner, and I've already showered and done laundry in the laundromat across from the hotel. And I even got a late start!
Wait, 65 miles? That's not enough, you say! You're damned right it's not. Parts Five, Six, and Seven of the plan are now Ride to St. Regis, Ride to Missoula, and Take a Damned Bus to Bozeman. I was (and probably remain) a little over the limit already at 110-120 miles a day. Even money whether I'd be physically capable of maintaining that pace, but I'd be a hot mess even if I made it. As I understand them, the spousal conditions of my ride are 1) show up on time, and 2) don't behave as though you're shattered from a bike ride. 1) is 50-50 and 2) is right out if I try to ride all the way to Bozeman at this point.
Mostly, I shattered pretty badly yesterday. Swamp Hike was pretty intense; I had no way of knowing how long it would go on, and with no cell signal, that whole "I might be out here hiking in this shit for hours" feeling took its emotional toll as well. If you'd asked me at 8pm last night, I would have told you I was done, and that I needed to figure out ground transport from Plummer somehow.
But a couple things stopped me. First, turns out that would have been a HUGE pain in the ass, and probably north of $1000 all told. And one that I could still try after riding back from Harrison, if the bike shop thing didn't work out. Second, well... There's quitting, and then there's quitting. Acknowledging my own limits and making the most of the fact that I'm out here in a seriously beautiful part of the world, with a far away deadline and a bicycle? Is that quitting? Maybe. But I had a really nice ride today, and I feel good now, and I'll almost certainly be at the wedding on time after a couple more "easy" bike rides through ID/MT back roads. I refuse to be down about it.
Enjoying reading about your journey! Thank you for sharing!
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