Day 65 – Bozeman, MT

Some of the most stellar road riding I have ever done. Purple peaks of earth’s jagged teeth consuming the sky. In the heart of the Rocky Mountains. This is it.

I am writing 2 weeks later, so much of these few days have slipped through the cracks of my memory.

But I do remember coming down from a hill and breaking a spoke on my rear wheel. It was the third broken spoke in the past few weeks.

I got to Bozeman, went to three different bike shops until I found a new wheel that fit.

A few miles out from my destination for the night, my phone died along with my battery pack. I flagged down a car of teenagers who very nicely escorted me to my destination a few miles away.

I rolled into a block party arranged by Pat and Paul, my hosts in Bozeman for the night. Recently retired and new to the neighborhood, they decided that well, if they weren’t seeing community, they would just make it. I thought that was pretty cool.

Day 66 – Bozeman, MT (rest day)

Lasagna and ice cream. Pat and Paul are beyond fantastic hosts and brimming with stories. Paul rode across the USA with his son in 2006, so they “get it”.

If I was writing with these days in more recenty memory I would probably have several paragraphs worth of how amazing it felt to be in the presence of such generous people — but alas, most of the details of these two days have been forgotten, but the warmth in my heart they left with me can still be felt, hundreds of miles away.

Day 67 – Whitehall, MT

I had the privledge of having Paul ride with me for this entire day. It was a perfect day to ride, and if not the most enjoyable day of riding I have had on this trip.

A tailwind with nice weather and good company — what else could I ask for?

Cars were few and the canyon we descended into for a good chunk of the 60 mile day offered jaw-dropping views.

Paul treated me to lunch, where we also ran into three other touring cyclists and exchanged some intel on the roads to come.

At Whitehall, I split ways with Paul, who was picked up by Pat. More hugs. The type of hugs that aren’t just gestures, but more so the ones where you want to cling on to people you will miss for a very very long time.

The day before I called 10 churches and the town public works department searching for a place to pitch a tent. Kory, who heads the public works department of this small town put me in touch with Mayor Mary.

It turns out that Whitehall is also along a major thru-hiking route called the Continental Divide Trail, and the townhall, which appears to be an old fire station, has been equipped with showers, laundry, and a space for hikers to roll out a sleeping pad. Mayor Mary said it was game for me! Perfect.

At the town hall, I ran into two hikers, Kate (trail name Zen) and Darrell who were also staying there. We heard the small theatre down the street was running a movie for $6. I said, “if you’re in, I’m in”. So the three of us went on to watch a poorly-written Tom Cruise action movie, Mission Impossible. Zen and Darrell left as the chessy screenwriting began to become to painful to digest, but I paid $6 for this! I had to watch it to the end.

We finished up the night by watching the most clear night sky I have seen in my life. I had never seen so many stars before — constellations were so clear and easy to make out. I saw the cloud of stars, the Milky Way, for the first time.