Day 35 through 39 Gee Brief The Five People You Meet in Montana

I've provided a synopsis for the past five days below based on the people I've met. At the end of the synopsis is a montage of pics. It's the quickest way to get caught up......hopefully.

Day 35 - Columbus, MT to Bozeman, MT
On the road from Columbus to Bozeman, I met ......the ROAD. I know that you may not look at the road as a person, but after 5 weeks of just me, Jenard and the road, the lines get a little blurred as to what is intelligent life, and what is not. The meeting was  brief and light, however it would be a precursor of things to come. What happened was due to the soft, grey sand that can be found just off the shoulder of I-90 in much of Montana. The sand LOOKS exactly like the road. Even when you can see that it's sand, and not road, it looks very tightly packed. But it isn't.  The pic is of the indentation that my front wheel left in the sand. It dug in, turning my wheel left and basically stopping my bike. We all went down, but I was going fairly slowly, so it was a brief encounter with the road, and non-eventful....this time.


Day 36 - Rest in Bozeman
In Bozeman, I met Corey. J's already told you about him being the first non-Asian sushi chef we've ever met. She's told you about how good the sushi was. She's also told you how he is a rock climber and a cyclist and just basically a cool person. The thing is, I met him too and the fact that J already wrote about him should not stop ME from writing so......he had on a really cool hat...OK?  Did J tell you THAT? I don't think so!

Day 37 - Bozeman, MT to Butte, MT
On the road from Bozeman to Butte I met James Brock. I had just passed a sign that said something to the effect of "this hill goes up for 8 miles". The sign did not lie; it wasn't a particularly grueling slope, it was just VERY long. and I was on mile 2 or 3. As I made my way, turtle like up the slope, I came upon James. He was talking on a cell phone to Triple A. His car had broken down. I wanted to make sure he wasn't stranded out in the middle of nowhere without help, so I waited until he got off the phone to make sure. Turns out James was on a cross country, change your life, get a new job somewhere else type of journey. He was on a shoe-string budget to get to Washington where he had family waiting for him. You probably can't see the bike strapped to the top of his car, but he's a cyclist too. We shared some conversation, and did a fellow cyclist "fist bump" and then I was on my way. Best of luck to you in Washington James!

Day 38 - Butte, MT to Clinton, MT
I met TWO people on Day 38: one in Butte by phone, the other in Missoula in person. I don't have a pic for either one.

The Butte phone guy was a cycle shop owner to whom J had taken one of Jenard's wheels. The the tube in the wheel had gone flat that morning. I had tried to fix it, but the Specialized Armadillo tire is a particularly tough tire to put on a wheel since it's extra stiff to resist punctures and pinch flats. After an hour and a half, I succeeded in getting the tire on to the wheel, only to discover that I had put a hole in my new tube while doing it!  To cut my losses, I took a good wheel off of Rootbeer and hit the road. The plan was for J to take the flat tire to a Butte bike shop to get it fixed.  J  did so, and the shop owner fixed it, but not before asking her, "Can't he put the tube on himself?"

My answer to this man, if I ever see him in person will be, "Yes, and I can do the EXACT same quality job that YOU can!" Why would I say this? Because at the end of the day, when J and I met up and she gave me the tire...it was FLAT! Mr. Macho had put a hole in the tube exactly like I did!

The second person I met that day was another bike shop owner or worker in Missoula who was much more low keyed and succeeded in doing what I and the Butte guy couldn't: fixing my flat without putting a hole in the tube. Thank you Missoula Bicycle Works! I never got the name of the guy that helped me, but if you're ever in Missoula, MT I recommend this shop without reservation.

Day 39 - Clinton, MT to 17 miles west of Haugen, MT
On day 39 (today) (YAY I'm caught up!!!!) I once again met .....THE ROAD. This time, I met it HARD. I only had about 17 miles to go. The road was actually quite nice, however, it had a very DEEP groove that separated the shoulder from the right lane. Unfortunately, the groove was wide enough to accommodate Jenard's front tire. The moment the groove caught the tire, I knew there was going to be a crash. So I braced myself. This time, I was going a LOT faster than my fall on Day 35. Jenard and I fell down hard on the right side with both my body and Jenard's establishing multiple contact points with the road: my right angle bone, Jenard's rear derailer, my right hip bone, Jenard's front right brake lever, my right shoulder, and finally...my HEAD.

I'm fairly sure you can guess which of the contact points concerned me the most: Yup you guessed right! It was Jenard's derailleur! The hanger that connects the derailleur with the frame of the bike was broken, leaving me dead in the water. So I called J, she came and brought me back to our motel for the night. From there I called a bike shop in Coeur D'Alene (France used to own quite a bit of this territory) and made an appointment for them to fix Jenard. Tomorrow, J will be taking Jenard to the shop, and Rootbeer will once again be on the road.

I know, you want to know about the HEAD part of my crash. To be honest, that concerned me a bit too. When I felt the impact, I was fairly sure that I would be getting a concussion, passing out, or at least maybe a nasty bump. Know what I got? NOTHING. The helmet took the entire shock and kept my noggin intact. I am now a FIRM believer of helmets...on bicycles AND motorcycles. Without a helmet today, I would not be writing to you this evening.

I know, you're probably also thinking...dang...that wasn't the best piece of luck was it, crashing like that? As it turned out, just a mile or two down the road from where I crashed, construction had turned the road into a two lane ordeal with NO shoulder. I'm not talking about even a skinny yellow line...I'm talking about major traffic with trucks going 55 miles an hour past each other and the barriers with NO space on either side.  Had I not crashed, I could have found myself in the middle of this mess with absolutely no way out and the ensuing crash could have been much much more serious. This is not a "silver lining" story. It's true. I'm glad I crashed; it may have saved my life.

I know the rule was one continuous line from Maine to Oregon. But I'd like to live to tell the tale. I've already checked the map and there is no viable alternative route that I can take from the point I left off in order to get around the construction area. We will see what the traffic conditions look like tomorrow morning when J takes me out there, but I am seriously considering having her just drive me the three miles past the danger area. On a journey of about 3,400 miles, I think my ego can sustain losing 3 miles of bragging rights.

Here's some pics from days 35 through 39.

They were right it was Awesome!

This the nicest most polite sign I've ever read that's basically telling you not to throw bad stuff down the toilet

This fence was put there to keep falling rocks from hitting the road. It was definitely needed, since there were very large bulges in the wire mesh, where it had done its job!

Rootbeer donting a wheel to Jenard. They were both under anesthesia so neither one of them felt a thing.