Troy On Trails: Bikepacking

This post is part 3 of 3 covering my adventures during the Tour Divide Race. Part 3 covers the days between Colorado and the finish in Antelope Wells, New Mexico. If you missed parts 1 or 2 be sure to check out Tour Divide - Canada to Idaho (Part 1) and Tour Divide - Idaho to Colorado (Part 2)

I had spent the past few days riding with Jon, a fellow competitor while nursing an injured knee. We pulled into Steamboat Springs together.

Hitting Steamboat Springs on a weekend was challenging. It took forever to find a hotel and the one we finally found was well off the route up at the ski hill. At this point I was using my knee more as an excuse than a necessity for finding a hotel. I had grown to enjoy the comforts of a hotel room any chance I had.

Day 16: Steamboat Springs, CO to Silverthorne, CO
125 miles – 9,890 feet of climbing - Strava

On Day 15, Jon and I went our separate ways. Jon wanted to wait for the bike shop and post office to open in the morning so I headed out on my own again.

While my knee still hurt, the pain was getting much more manageable each day. I decided today was the day to get back in the race. I wanted to get to Silverthorne tonight.

On my way over the last pass into Kremling, I was under heavy attack by mosquitos. A swat of my hand onto my leg would easily kill 10+ mosquitos but they would instantly be replaced with another wave of combatants.

Distracted by the demon spawn mosquitos, I completely missed a bear crossing the road 100 feet in front of me. I noticed a car stopped in the road and as I passed by he told me what had happened. This was my only bear sighting the entire race and I didn’t even see it.

I had finally had enough so I took a quick detour into Kremling and bought some mosquito repellent. Ah. Relief!

After Ute pass I hit the wall. While it was a tough day, the real cause was poor planning. I thought Silverthorne was about 30 miles closer than it was. Not knowing how far it is to a destination just saps my energy like nothing else. I became so tired that I couldn’t make it to Silverthorne. I slept on the side of the highway just 10 miles short of Silverthorne.

Day 17: Silverthorne, CO to Salida, CO
124 miles – 6,534 feet of climbing - Strava

The best part of stopping short of Silverthorne is I was able to roll into town in time for breakfast the next morning.

From Silverthorne to Breckenridge is a beautiful bike path that connects the towns and goes around a man-made lake. I assume this trail can get pretty busy on a nice weekend day.

Silverthorne, Fisco and Breckenridge are all reasonably sized towns with all supplies. Yet I didn’t resupply in Silverthorne and found myself struggling to find anything along the route in Breckenridge. I’m sure I could have found a grocery store, but not knowing the town made it hard to navigate. For next time I need to make sure I know where good resupply options exist in every town.

After Breckenridge is Boreas Pass. This is the first time over 11,000 feet in the race and I was concerned. It turned out to be a non-issue. The course overall does a good job of gradually increasing elevation which helped. Plus the ride up to the pass is steady, but not too steep. It was a very scenic and enjoyable climb.

I was looking forward to more of the same on the descent, but it wasn’t to be. The route turns off the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route to take the Gold Dust trail. This starts out as a rocky steep and muddy trail. By this point, my singletrack skills had significantly atrophied and parts of the trail were a challenge. This was another great opportunity for suspension.

I soon dropped down into Como. This town has some art galleries, but nothing else. I’ve heard rumor they may re-open the mercantile which would be awesome. If you’re on a more leisurely pace check out the Como Depot where a guy has been restoring the train depot to its original glory. I’ve been following progress on Facebook, but have never seen it.

That afternoon some thunder storms rolled in and the lighting was hitting the ground too close for comfort. I took shelter and after I thought it had died down I headed back out. This time I got caught in the storm with no shelter for miles. Lightning strikes all around me and nothing taller than six inches (other than me).

I pedaled like there’s no tomorrow driven by fear and pure adrenaline. I eventually found a house in the middle of nowhere and huddled by the garage for cover. The owner came out and let me inside his garage for better shelter. I used my down time to take a nap and book a room in Salida.

The storm eventually blew over and I was back at it and on track for a late evening arrival in Salida. However, the one thing I didn’t count on was the storm turned the roads heading to Salida into impossible mud.

It was now dark and my wheels wouldn’t turn due to the heavy buildup of mud. I spent hours dragging my bike through the mud again with no idea how much farther I had to go. To make things worse, I had planned on reaching Salida around 8pm so I didn’t have enough food for the seven extra hours of travel time. I ran out pretty early.

Eventually I hit the last summit before Salida and the road dried out instantly for a screaming fast descent into town at 3am. Starving and exhausted I found my hotel, but didn’t see any options for food. I went to sleep hungry.

Day 18: Salida, CO to Sargents, CO
55 miles – 4,383 feet of climbing - Strava

I had caught back up with some riders that passed me during my earlier troubles so I decided to get up at 6 so I could keep up or even pass them.

This was a huge mistake. No food and no sleep is not a winning combination. When I got up in the morning my IQ was barely high enough to remember how to breathe. I wanted to ride into town to get breakfast and have my bike checked out by Absolute Bikes. In my suboptimal mental state I went the wrong way and rode an extra 20 miles just trying to find down town.

I ate three breakfasts and was still hungry and I had no energy or desire to pedal. I eventually made it out of town (the final time) at 1pm. I then struggled to haul myself over Marshall Pass and dropped into Sargents. After eating lunch, I just couldn’t see myself riding more so I rented a cabin and went to sleep by 6:30 PM.

Day 19: Sargents, CO to Del Norte, CO
114 miles – 6,076 feet of climbing - Strava

I woke up at 4 feeling like a new man and headed out into the darkness having lost all the time I fought so hard to gain back.

After riding much of the day I came across an unmarked intersection that I was pretty sure led to La Garita. La Garita is a small town just off route with a store/restaurant/gas station. I didn’t have this mapped on my GPS so I took a flyer and turned off route.

I found the La Garita store just over a hill. It turns out the lady that runs it had to go into town and was closing early for the day in just a couple minutes. She was nice enough to make me a burger which I ate out front while she closed up.

Missing this store wouldn’t have been the end of the world as Del Norte is just 20 more miles but the burger and ice cream were no less amazing.

I also had to stop because I spent the last several hours enjoying the sound of saying “La Garita” in my best Spanish accent. It sounded much like the La Quinta ads on TV.

In Del Norte I stayed at a bed and breakfast just off route. When checking Expedia the night before there weren’t many options, but once in town I found there were a few options and even a hostel. I don’t recommend the B&B route as it becomes very hard to maintain a true TDR schedule.

Day 20: Del Norte to just shy of the New Mexico border
82 miles – 8,278 feet of climbing - Strava

I talked the B&B host into an early breakfast and headed out for the high point of the route. It was all uphill from here to Indiana Pass just below 12,000 feet.

10 miles into the day and after some significant climbing I realized I never filled my water. I had a big day planned and only about a cup of water. Uh Oh.

I didn’t want to turn back and ride that climb again so immediately began rationing my water. I’m not sure which was more stupid. Forgetting to fill my water or thinking I could ration enough.

Fortunately I caught a break. Three riders going Northbound touring part of the route stopped to chat. After a while I mentioned my predicament and they all offered me their water since they only had an easy descent into town remaining. This was Fixie Dave, Cricket, and another guy who’s name I can’t remember. They are amazing people with big hearts and I can’t thank them enough. They also told me not to filter water from that area because there is a super fund site cleaning up the environmental mess from a strip mine at the top of the mountain. The water here is full of heavy metals.

At the summit I ran up the hill beside the road to ensure I broke 12,000 feet. For some reason this was important to me.

After that, I expected some descending. But oddly there wasn’t much. The next couple hours were short descents followed by more long climbs and more short descents.

Eventually I made it into Platoro for a burger and then found the long descent heading into Horca.

I made it up over the paved pass after Horca just in time for another thunder storm. Again, the lightning was too close for comfort so I needed shelter. I found a good spot and rather than just sit there and wait out the storm I decided to set up my tent and go to sleep. It was still far too early, but I wasn’t going anywhere soon.

Day 21: Just shy of the New Mexico border to Abiquiu, NM
108.9 miles – 7,485 feet of climbing - Strava

I slept far too long and got back on the bike around 7:00. The pavement ended almost immediately and then I ran into Jon. I thought he was still behind me, but he made up time while I was in Sargents and then got up early and passed by me as I was loading up again.

We quickly ran into the aftermath of the previous night’s storm. The roads were thick peanut butter and again impossible to ride. But the good news is we were now in New Mexico.

We rode together for much of the day. Then I started dragging. There was a lot of riding in my lowest gear. I couldn’t handle it any more. Either I needed to pick up the pace or I needed to walk for a bit. I chose to pick up the pace.

I attacked the next hill dropping Jon. I then pushed hard on the descent into Canon Plaza where a lady has a snack shack along the route. I ate some food and waited around for a while, but there was no Jon. Eventually I pushed on without him.

It turns out Jon had a flat that caused a pretty nasty crash. He was OK and finished, but this was the last I saw of him.

I rode on to Abiquiu following the tracks of two guys I would call the Aussie and the Welch. (Mic and Richard).

The rains came back and the roads again deteriorated. They were still ridable, but my drivetrain was not happy. I only had two gears. My lowest and my highest.

When I hit pavement it was a nice big gear romp into Abiquiu so my limited gearing wasn’t too bad.

For some reason I thought Abiquiu was bigger than it is. I had heard people talking about the pizza place and my notes said all services. But when I got there, I was surprised to find a whole lot of nothing.

I had passed the Abiquiu Inn, a super fancy looking motel, with the hopes of finding something more appropriate for a mountain biker covered in mud. But there was nothing.

I was cold and wet and really wanted someplace warm to dry out. So I backtracked to the Abiquiu Inn. My wife had told me they were all booked, but I had to try. It turns out they had rooms and even gave me a 60% discount.

The room was amazing, and the food was spectacular. I set out all my wet clothes in front of the fire place and turned on the AC as the fire made the room way too hot.

Unable to come up with a pun for New Mexico, I pondered whether my old sombrero would be compatible with the New Mexico or if I’d need to buy a new sombrero. What about my burro? Would a new Burro work in Old Mexico?

Day 22: Abiquiu, NM to Cuba, NM
78 miles – 8,365 feet of climbing - Strava

The next day I decided to continue with my approach from the night before and push harder attacking hills. This turned out to be a pretty good strategy as the climb out of Abiquiu is a long and technical one. There is no way to take it easy and be successful.

I passed the Ausie and the Welch and pushed on. Near the summit I then passed Nicklaus (the Swede).

As early afternoon approached so did the thunder storms. The roads were starting to deteriorate, but were still ridable. I didn’t want to stop and convinced myself the lightning was far enough away. Then suddenly there was a flash and crack seemingly right next to me. I almost fell off my bike from the sound. That was too close. It was time for shelter.

Once the storm passed I proceeded with my all too familiar lowest or highest gears only and limped into Cuba where I found the crappiest motel of the trip but didn’t care.

I bought a rag at the dollar store across the street and proceeded to clean my bike so I’d have more than two gears to choose from in the morning.

Day 23: Cuba, NM to Grants, NM
121 miles – 3,889 feet of climbing - Strava

The next morning was a long road ride. The longest road of the entire route. It was 120 miles of flat and straight pavement to Grants. In other words torture.

I pulled into Grants exhausted. I was paying the price for pushing so hard out of Abiquiu.

The Aussie, Welch, and Swede were ahead of me all day as they took off earlier out of Cuba. Where they were today didn’t really matter because I expected we were all heading to the same place. It wasn’t until that evening that I realized they had decided to push on past Grants and go all the way to Pie Town. “That was the winning move” I thought. None of us were anywhere in the conversation for the win, but it was a race so I really wanted to beat them. They now had a 70 mile lead on me and that was a lot to make up. An impossible task.

While I was disappointed they had pulled ahead, I was comfortable with my decision to stop. I needed some rest. The best part of stopping in Grants is I found a hotel next door to a 24 hour Denny’s and Walmart. I had everything I needed and I could start early the next morning.

Day 24: Grants, NM to the Gila, NM
110 miles – 4,439 feet of climbing - Strava

On the ride into Pie Town I could see their tracks. It was clear they had a hard time of it with the mud. By morning it was mostly all ridable.

I stopped in at Pie-O-Neer Pies and got two free pieces of pie thanks to Salsa Cycles and some stew. It turns out Pie-O-Neer doesn’t really sell much other than pie. The other place has more food options which would have been better.

I scarfed down my Pie and was back on the bike heading into the Gila.

The rains came early this day and my drivetrain was quickly crippled again. Sometimes I could ride and other times I would have to walk dragging my bike. But I wasn’t making particularly good time. I had hoped to make it half way through the Gila, but I was only 40 miles out of Pie Town when I decided to call it.

I found an abandoned old farm that still have a covered porch. I set up camp on the porch and went to sleep planning to get up after the rain stopped. It didn’t stop until the next morning.

Day 25: The Gila, NM to Silver City, NM
136 miles – 9,458 feet of climbing - Strava

As I was packing up in the dark, a few riders went by. I couldn’t tell who they were but they would be my target for the day.

I set out at as brisk of a pace as the conditions would allow and after just an hour I caught up with the riders who passed me in the dark. It was the International trio I thought was gone forever. It turned out they didn’t reach Pie Town until very late and left Pie Town just 30 minutes ahead of me. After a rough night, they got frustrated with the mud and stopped after a very short day a couple miles before I did.

We chatted and I rode with them for a bit but then decided I had to ride my own pace and pushed on without them.

I really wanted to get to Silver City today. With the shorter ride than planned the day before, this was going to be a long day. I both ran out of water and food. I found a stream for water, but was SOL for food.

I hit the singletrack for the CDT hiking trail just at sunset. The trail could have been fun in the daylight, but in the dark there were hidden rocks everywhere. I kept trying to ride it but would hit rocks and flip over the bars. After several failed attempts I resigned myself to walking. I didn’t know how long the route would be like this, but I knew I was going to be there a while.

Around 2 am I pulled into Silver City with fatigue winning out over elation. I found a hotel and then a 24-hour McDonalds. I wouldn’t be going to bed hungry tonight.

The International Trio had stopped in the singletrack so I had a bit of a lead.

Day 26: Silver City, NM to Antelope Wells, NM
124 miles – 2,275 feet of climbing - Strava

The next morning I got up with just three hours of sleep. I knew I would have adrenaline on my side today so I didn’t need sleep. This would be the day I crossed the finish line.

It was a fast ride to Separ. I could see tire tracks in the sand and imagined they belonged to the international trio. This made me push harder. I spent a lot of time above 20 MPH. I called my wife, who was picking me up, to tell here I was ahead of schedule for the day and would be at the finish line between 3 and 5 PM. She also informed me that I was well ahead of the Trio.

I then headed back out into the New Mexico heat. It didn’t feel too hot until after Separ. This is where the heat suddenly became oppressive.

Seeing the first road sign for Antelope Wells was pretty exciting. This was really happening.

I wasn’t racing for position, but I still felt the need to push hard. This was the last day and I didn’t want to leave anything on the table.

I got into Hachita and found the water spigot next to the community center. I took a quick bath in the cool water then was back on my way.

With about 10 miles to go I heard cowbells behind me. It was my wife cheering me on. I continued to sip on my now scalding water knowing there were refreshing and cool drinks in the car with my wife.

It was torture knowing my wife had ice cold drinks in the car. All I had to do was ask. But the self-supported nature of the race forbid even this level of assistance. So I continued to sip on the Scalding water in my bottle and push on for the finish.

Crossing the finish line released some powerful emotions. I cried for a moment and then it was over. Just like that. 25 days 9 hours and 8 minutes of pushing myself to extremes and it was all over in an instant.

I had pushed so hard for this moment and the second it was gone I was sad. I went from elation to sorrow in seconds. I immediately missed it and I have missed it every minute of every day since.

That much time alone with my thoughts while pushing my body to its limits was beyond amazing. It was like a reset button for my soul.

During the race I wrote poetry, I reflected on life decisions, smiled like never before, and I met my true self.

I loved the Tour Divide.

This post is part 2 of 3 covering my adventures during the Tour Divide Race. Part 2 covers the days between Idaho and Colorado. If you missed the first part of the story, be sure to check out Tour Divide - Part 1 of 3 Canada to Idaho.

Everyone says your odds of finishing go way up if you can make it out of Montana and I believe it. There are a lot of hard miles in Montana and there are no shortages of reasons to quit. Add in the abundance of small towns with reasonable options to get and you get a high attrition rate.

I had a mini celebration as I crossed the border into Idaho, but knew there was still a long ways to go.

Day 11: Island Park, ID to Togwotee Mountain Lodge, WY
131 miles – 6,153 feet of climbing - Strava

The next day I woke up early in my Island Park motel room and scarfed down a deluxe gas station breakfast before anything else was open. This day would have been brutal with good knees. It was time for the dreaded rail trail. I had heard tale of the rail trail being unridable. How bad could it be? It’s a rail trail.

When I first hit the rail trail I didn’t think it was that bad. It was a little loose but not bad at all. I rode for a few miles thinking how everyone was complaining for no reason. Sure it was harder than much of the route thus far, but it wasn’t that bad.

I spoke too soon. Apparently that was just the primer. The trail went from loose but manageable to hub-deep gravel and sand. I was suddenly having flashbacks to the Stagecoach 400, the only other place I’ve ridden miles of frustrating sand.

It took a lot of effort to keep the bike upright and pointed in the right direction. Who thought this was an acceptable trail surface? Ugh.

Fortunately, it was fairly short and it wasn’t long before I was out on a paved road.

I stopped in at the Squirrel Creek Ranch for lunch.

Soon after Squirrel Creek I crossed another border and entered into Wyoming.

Realizing that babying my knee every night was the only way I’d make it through the race I set my sights on reaching a Lodge just past Grand Tetons National Park. However, when I arrived they were closed for a private event. No rooms. No food. No luck.

There was another lodge another 20 miles up the road so I decided to push on. I arrived at Togwotee Mountain Lodge not too long after dark. It was already getting quite cold. Unfortunately there was no room at the inn and no amount of begging was going to help.

I ate dinner then the hotel manager pointed me to a camp ground down the road. I didn’t find the camp ground so I went back to the lodge and set up my tent in the parking lot amongst their fleet of snow mobiles without icing my knee.

Day 12: Togwotee Lodge, WY to Pinedale, WY
107 miles – 5,653 feet of climbing - Strava

The next morning I scouted out Pinedale which was the next town with a hotel. Plus I was running dangerously low on Vitamin A (Alieve), which was the only thing keeping me in this race.

The climbing was minimal but the route made up for the lack of elevation change with steep and rugged hike-a-bike sections.

The worst part of the day was the descent. What looked to be a long and fun romp turned out to be some of the chunkiest roads on the entire route. I couldn’t wait for the downhill to end.

The teeth rattling road eventually became pavement just as I caught up with another rider. We both then proceeded to race the remaining 20 miles or so to Pinedale as if it was the finish line.

It was a very hot day. I found myself low on water early and spent much of the ride conserving precious water. As civilization approached, I tried getting water from a fire station with no luck. I pedaled on.

A few miles later, a couple pulled up in their car next to me and asked how I was doing on water. They proceeded to tell me how they left a hose out in front of their house for racers. Just look for the white sign on the left.

I eventually spotted the world’s least conspicuous sign and turned off to load my water and cool down.

By the time I reached Pinedale I was beat. The pace to finish the day was way to fast. I had nothing left. I had hoped to make it another 10 miles to boulder, but my legs wanted nothing to do with it. I pulled into the first hotel and called it a night.

Day 13: Pinedale, WY to The Great Wyoming Basin
120 miles – 4,631 feet of climbing - Strava

I had heard tales of the Great Wyoming Basin, but didn’t really know what to expect. All I knew is I was heading into it today ready or not.

The ride to Atlantic City went pretty quickly. Though Atlantic City is nowhere near as grandiose or glamourous as its name suggests. There was no hotel and I was actually feeling good so I rode on.

20 miles out of Atlantic City my knee blew up. I couldn’t bend my leg without excruciating pain. There was no way I was going to go any further tonight so I pulled off the trail and set up my tent for the night.

Day 14: The Great Wyoming basin, WY to The Great Wyoming basin, WY
102 miles – 2,275 feet of climbing - Strava

As I woke up and first stepped out of my tent, I saw Jon ride by again. This was actually an eerily common occurrence. Why did he always go by when I first stepped out of my tent?

I had been trying to ride alone, but when I caught Jon this day I decided to give in and ride with him for a while. We rode through the heart of the basin together.

The next morning we pushed on to the bucolic town of Wamsutter. When I say bucolic, I am using it in the most sarcastic manner possible. Wamsutter is many things, but bucolic is not one of them.

There was a surprising number of riders at the truck stop in Wamsutter. It felt good to catch them, but with the heat, I was in no hurry to continue on. Both Jon and I spent a few hours in the soothing AC of the Loves Truck stop.

We eventually got up the energy to pedal and pushed on. With a tail wind we made some good time but still found ourselves surrounded by a whole lot of nothing. We ended up camping next to some fracking equipment. The countryside was littered with fracking stations and they provided the only respite from both wind and sun.

Day 15: The Great Wyoming Basin, WY to Steamboat Springs, CO
97 miles – 6,855 feet of climbing - Strava

The next morning felt good knowing we would be leaving the basin. Though there is a whole lot of nothing until Steamboat Springs.

Shortly after crossing the border into Colorado we made it to Brush Mountain Lodge. I had heard a lot about it, but wasn’t able to determine its exact location online. As a result, the climb up to the lodge felt extra long as we hoped it was around each corner. Eventually we rounded the right corner and saw the lodge.

Kirsten at Brush Mountain is the most amazing person I met on the entire race. And I met some incredible people. Kirsten greats every racer with a hug and does an amazing job of feeding and taking care of each racer. I never wanted to leave. Unfortunately, there was still a race going on and it was much too early to call it a day. So Jon and I reluctantly remounted our steeds and headed off for Steamboat Springs to cheers from Kirsten and others.

The descent into Steamboat is crazy rough. I could have used full suspension for several miles. The dirt road is covered with large rounded rocks making for a very rough ride. I was glad my brakes were fixed in Butte.

This post is part 1 of 3 covering my adventures during the Tour Divide Race. This covers the days between Canada and Idaho.

The Tour Divide is a 2,745 mile off-road race from Banff, Canada to Antelope Wells, N.M at the U.S. – Mexico border. The race follows the longest off-road route in the world and is considered to be the hardest bicycle race in the world.

I first learned about the race in 1999 reading a story about John Stamstad, a pioneer in ultra-endurance mountain biking, who was the first to race the route. The race immediately captured my attention and I fantasized about it for years. While the race continued to capture my attention, year over year, I never took any action. It remained nothing more than fantasy.

Fast forward 15 years and I found myself in the best cycling shape of my life. After a lifetime of being pack filler my racing dreams had finally become reality. All my dreams but one.

It was time. I had no more excuses. I was ready to take my riding to a whole new level. I was ready to take on the Tour Divide.

I told everyone who would listen about my plans. This was part out of excitement and part because I knew I was going to need all the help I could get. A race like the Divide requires tremendous preparation and commitment but also requires a lot of support from friends and family.

I had never done anything like the Divide before so I had a lot of work to do and just over a year to do it.

I spent the next year learning and riding. I did a couple 400 mile “sprint” races and some multi-day adventures on my own. I struggled, suffered, and learned a lot along the way. My gear selection was in constant flux.

Time flew by and the race quickly went from next year to next week to now. It was suddenly very real.

I boxed up the bike and hopped a plane for the land of hockey and maple syrup. I arrived in Banff a couple days before the race to put my bike together and get acclimated. I put all my packs on the bike and took it for a shakeout ride checking out the beginning of the route. All systems were go.

Day 1: Banff, AB to Elkford, BC
112 miles – 7,505 Feet of climbing - Strava

Race day morning, I loaded up the last bits into my packs and headed out to Tim Horton’s for breakfast. Tim Horton’s is the only place I could find open early enough for breakfast. (A common problem during the race) I downed a couple breakfast wraps then put a couple more in my jersey pocket for later and headed off to the start line with a fleet of butterflies going nuts in my stomach.

It was an amazing feeling seeing people on loaded bikes rolling through the streets of Banff all headed to the start. There were 150 of us all converging on the Y from all corners of Banff. (The race heads out from the YWCA hostel, but doesn’t officially start until a mile past the Y.)

The scene was chaotic. Nervous racers mulled about trying to stay warm while chatting with others. Everyone was trying to assess each other’s’ setups and experience. While racers tried to calm their nerves, friends and family ran around taking pictures and video to commemorate the event.

I had thought about doing the race North-bound as it typically provides better weather. But I really wanted to be part of the Grand Depart experience. Being among the mass of racers at the start is a magical feeling. I made the right decision.

Just as nerves were starting to boil over, Crazy Larry appeared and started organizing the group for a photo. Billy Rice then chimed in announcing that they wanted to organize the racers based on speed. All the people going after Jay P’s record were at one end, then everyone looking to make it to Sparwood, then those looking to make it to Elkford, etc. Lastly Billy chided anyone who didn’t realize it was a race should be at the very far end. The crowd chuckled.

Moments later we were off!

I tried hard not to get over excited and cook myself by pushing too hard too early. But I found overall people were going frustratingly slow. On gentle descents riders were riding their brakes and chatting with others beside them. I wasn’t looking to hammer, but this wasn’t a social ride. I certainly had no interest in doddling behind these people so I had to revert to XC racer mode. “On your left…”

I made good time while still riding a sustainable pace. As we hit our first pass it started to rain then snow. Uh oh. Then the sun then came back out as we descended the other side. “That wasn’t so bad,” I thought.

A few miles later I saw another storm approaching. I pushed my pace in an effort to stay ahead of it and stay dry. While I avoided that particular storm cloud, the cloud was just the preamble. The storm continued to build until there was no escape. My efforts may have postponed the rain, but there was no avoiding it. Eventually, the storm engulfed us all. It was rain at lower elevations and snow at higher elevations.

My waterproof gloves proved to be anything but. My hands were soaked within the first hour of steady rain. I had tested them for hours with success, but the first real action and I might as well have been wearing cotton gloves.

The first resupply point of the route is the Bolton Trading Post around 50 miles in. I had enough food and water to get to Sparwood so I had no interest in stopping. I was shocked how many racers were stopping.

Next up was Elk Pass. This was already quite muddy from the rain and riders ahead. Racers were still pretty tightly packed at this point. In an attempt to save energy I walked the steeper parts of the climb watching other riders pass me by. I had to keep reminding myself that it was a long race and battling for position on day 1 just didn’t have the payoff to justify the energy being spent.

The descent was a bit rough, but still quite fast. During the descent I heard a strange clank sound. I couldn’t figure out what it was. I slowed slightly and did a quick assessment of my bike and gear and concluded it was nothing. All was good until about a mile later. “Shit. My tent poles are missing!” They had jettisoned off my bike during the descent.

I spent the next hour going up and down Elk Pass and couldn’t find them anywhere. I now had a tent that was completely useless without poles.

This was my first mistake of the race. That morning I had moved my poles from my backpack to my handlebars. I decided to strap them to my handlebar bag instead trying to keep my pack as empty as possible. They were very snuggly attached back at the hotel, but after taking my rain gear out of my handlebar bag to wear, everything was much looser. I should have known better.

With a useless tent, I needed to change my plans. I had planned to ride about 20 miles past Sparwood. Now I needed a hotel.

I got to Elkford at 6pm. It was way too early to stop, but I knew I could get a room here. I had no idea if I could get a room in Sparwood. So I stopped.

Day 2: Elkford, BC to Eureka, MT
151 miles – 10,340 feet of climbing - Strava

The next day I needed to make it to Eureka as this is the next town with a hotel. I got up early and was on the road by 5am.

It was extremely cold and the fog was thick. I had to push hard just to keep warm. I made it to Sparwood surprisingly quickly and had to wait for the grocery store to open. Fortunately, there was a pancake breakfast fundraiser that was just getting going when I arrived. I gorged on pancakes while waiting to resupply.

I felt good early, but by the time I got to Sparwood my right knee was pretty sore. I couldn’t apply much power with my right leg.

In preparation, I had put 2,500 miles on this bike with this exact setup. I never had any issues. Why now?

I sucked it up and did my best to ignore the pain. After the first pass it was getting pretty bad. I soldiered on.

On the descent, the trail turned into a river. And I don’t mean water was flowing down the trail. I mean an actual river and the trail were one in the same. We were now riding/walking down a river up to two feet deep. This went on for miles.

Before Cabin Pass I decided to raise my saddle to see if I could find a more comfortable riding position. After raising it, the pain was dramatically better almost immediately. I sure wish I did this earlier.

Whew!

Next up was the wall. I had read a bit about it, but didn’t really know what it was. The wall is a stretch of trail that Matthew Lee built co connect up Cabin Pass to Galton Pass. It involves a nearly vertical scramble straight up a narrow muddy trail. With a loaded bike, it is quite a chore to get to the top. Fortunately it’s not super long.

The final climb of the day, however, was very long. Galton pass took forever. It was midnight by the time I reached the summit and it was getting cold. I put on extra layers then bombed down the descent. This descent in the dark was a blast. Going 30 to 40 miles per hour for over 30 minutes at night was exhilarating.

At the bottom of the descent, it’s a short paved section and then the border. We were back in the United States! This turned out to be my longest ride of the race. After 150 miles I was beat, but pushed through the remaining 15 miles to Eureka looking forward to a hotel room.

As we rolled into Eureka, I was quickly disappointed. There are two motels. One was full and the other was closed for the night. I had to camp. I did my best to set up my tent without poles. It was half tarp and half bivy, but it worked well enough to allow me a couple hours of sleep. Thankfully, I got a break, and it didn’t rain.

Day 3: Eureka, MT to Whitefish, MT
98 miles – 5,933 feet climbing - Strava

After an all-too brief nap, I was back on the bike and racing towards Whitefish. I had found a store with a lightweight tent in stock. The only catch is they closed at 5:00.

There was a steady stream of riders jockeying for position as we rode over Whitefish Divide. However, traffic thinned out dramatically on the backside of the divide. Once I started the descent I was immediately alone.

I didn’t spend nearly as much time studying the route as I should have. When I saw the ride was going to pass through Red Meadow, I imagined a flat lush meadow. It turns out Red Meadow is actually Red Meadow Pass and one nasty climb. This caught me off guard.

At the top of the pass it started to snow just in time to make the descent extra cold. I bundled up and barreled down the other side.

After hours of punchy climbs and descents, I rolled into Whitefish. It was 6:00. I had missed the tent store by an hour. Frustration was in overdrive. My choice was push on without a tent until Helena or call it an early night again. I chose the latter.

Day 4: Whitefish, MT to somewhere near Holland Lake, MT
97 miles – 5,954 feet climbing - Strava

The store opened at 9 and I quickly bought a Big Agnes Fly Creek 2. This is the 2-man version of the tent I had brought with me. It’s an awesome tent. But so is the tent I started with. Grr.

On my way out of town I stopped at the post office to mail my old tent home. I could get some replacement poles later.

With the drama behind me, it was time to focus on making up some time. I skipped resupplying in Whitefish as I wanted to get some miles in. Plus Columbia Falls wasn’t that far and I could resupply there.

It didn’t take long to get to Columbia Falls. This was the last stop for a while so I needed to get some food. Just as I stopped some lady pulled up in her car and said “Are you Troy?” Thrown aback, I cautiously acknowledge my name. She went on to say she was a friend of a friend and had been tracking my dot and just wanted to say "hi".

After an awkward exchange I ran into the store only to discover they had no electricity. No electricity means no sales. And they had no ETA for a fix.

I had broken one of the rules I learned early on when I started bikepacking. Never pass up an opportunity for food. I could have loaded up on food in Whitefish, but I wanted to get back on the move quickly.

I heard rumor of a grocery store on the other side of town so I set out to find it. I took the long way there, but fortunately I was able to find it and it had electricity. I bought more food than I could fit in my packs so I quickly ate what didn’t fit and then was back on the bike.

I passed a few riders during the day which helped me keep pushing. I was well behind where I wanted to be and focused heavily on the need to catch back up.

Thus far, bugs had not been a problem. However, shortly after Ferndale that all changed. The mosquitos were insane. Mosquitos were the thickest I’d ever seen. (Unfortunately, they only got worse as the race continued.) The climbs were tough enough on their own. But I now had to ride an extremely fast pace to keep the swarms of blood sucking insects at bay.

I had planned to push through to Holland Lake, but between the mosquitos and losing track of the remaining mileage I gave in and set up camp for the night.

I heard a few riders go by in the night. I always hate when this happens. This game of leap frog was extremely common throughout the race.

Day 5: Somewhere near Holland Lake, MT to Lincoln, MT
120 miles – 8345 feet climbing - Strava

The next morning I set out to have breakfast at Holland Lake. It turned out to be much farther away than thought. I found a sign for another restaurant 2 miles off route and ate there. I’m glad I did as Holland Lake was still a ways away and even farther off route.

Next up Ovando. I had been told they had no food or water. Fortunately that was a bad source. I was pretty hungry by the time I reached Ovando. The Stray Bullet was closed, but Trixie’s Antler Saloon was open (FYI they’re Cash Only).

Ovando is a really cool town where everyone is super supportive of the Tour Divide. There’s camping in town, a small motel, a store and a couple restaurants. All understand what we’re doing and are super helpful. I wanted to stay the night there, but decided it was still too early. I should keep moving.

The ride to Lincoln took longer than I expected. (Another common theme). I arrived around 2am. I stopped at the first hotel, rang the bell and apologized profusely for getting the manager out of bed. He was super cool about the whole thing and not only gave me a room, but gave me a discount. At that point, I would have paid extra.

Day 6: Lincoln, MT to Basin, MT
101 miles – 11,081 feet climbing - Strava

I slept in so I could have breakfast in town. Most places along the route don’t open until 7am. I had breakfast, grabbed some groceries and then was back on the road.

I ate lunch and loaded up on more supplies in Helena and headed out mid-day with the goal of reaching Basin. I caught up to two other riders on the climb out of Helena and rode with them for a bit. I talked one of them into pushing through to Basin which was farther than his original plans. We didn’t arrive until around 2am and the final descent was bitter cold. I had all my clothes on and was shivering.

We found an RV park in Basin and set up camp for the night. The next morning we discovered they had an indoor lounge area that was unlocked all night. We could have crashed in there and been both warmer and more comfortable. Next time.

Day 7: Basin, MT to Wise River, MT
102 miles – 7,674 feet of climbing - Strava

I met a couple more riders the next morning over breakfast. But our timing was off so, again, I was riding on my own.

Basin to Butte was pretty quick. But I decided I needed to have someone look at my brakes. They were squealing like mad and had no power. There was a long wait at the bike shop so I dropped off my bike and went to get some food.

While waiting for my bike, I chatted with some other riders and said I was going to continue on to Wise River. In unison they replied with an ominous “But you’ll be riding Fleecer Ridge in the dark.”

It was easy for me to show bravado since I didn’t even know what Fleecer Ridge was. It turns out this is a STUPID steep descent that is a long and treacherous walk in the dark. As it would also turn out, Fleecer Ridge wasn’t the problem, but the doubletrack right before Fleecer was the problem.

On the climb up to Fleecer Ridge, I was startled by a rustling in the bushes right next to me. Not knowing the cause of the noise, I immediately assumed threat and tried to speed up to get away. However, instead of going faster, my pedal caught the edge of the deep rut I was riding in and I crashed hard.

I never saw what startled me, so I have no choice but to assume it was a cougar getting ready to attack. By crashing, I’m sure he dove directly over me and then ran off in fear. At least that’s my story.

I was in quite a bit of pain after the crash, but managed to make my way to the Wise River Club to get a room after midnight.

They people at the Wise River Club are absolutely amazing. They were out of rooms so some of the employees gave me their room. Then they opened up the kitchen and made me the most incredible fried chicken dinner ever.

Day 8: Wise River, MT to Banack Rd, MT
88 miles – 4,612 feet climbing - Strava

The next morning I discovered my crash had been worse than I thought. I couldn’t put any weight on my right leg. I hobbled around and made my way downstairs for a leisurely breakfast.

With a full belly, I managed to convince myself that my leg would loosen up after a few miles of pedaling so I continued on my way. It, actually, did feel better. Though the feeling was short lived. I made it about 40 miles before I was no longer able to pedal with my right leg. The pain was just too much to bear.

I stopped for lunch at the High Country Lodge in Polaris. The thinking was a short rest was all I needed. I was wrong. In hindsight, I should have stayed the night and iced my knee. But like an idiot, I tried to keep riding.

I managed to get my right leg clipped in, but I couldn’t apply any force to the pedal. I had to pedal with just my left leg. I made it another 30 miles or so and had to call it a night. I set up camp alongside the road and helplessly watched people ride by.

Day 9: Bannack Rd, MT to Lima, MT
53 miles – 2,033 feet of climbing - Strava

The next morning I woke up to see Jon, a fellow racer, ride by my camp just as I stepped outside. I ran into Jon often during the race despite our very different strategies. He would stop earlier than me and start earlier so it was pretty common to see him ride by in the morning only for me to pass him later.

With my knee struggles, this was the darkest point of the race for me. I was in excruciating pain, barely moving, and under constant attack by mosquitos. The anger, frustration, pain and itching was overwhelming.

Despite my pain, I was also hungry. I decided the slight detour to Dell would be worth it as I would get food earlier. While the extra mileage didn’t do my knee any favors, I’m glad I did it. The Calf-A in Dell had the most amazing rhubarb pie. I tried a lot of pie during the race and this was the best pie I’ve ever had. I should have taken some more to go.

When I finally pulled into Lima, it was still very early. I got a room at the only motel and a bag of ice. I didn’t want to quit, but was pretty convinced I would have to.

I pinged a couple friends who are doctors and asked their advice over Facebook. To my surprise they were more than willing to diagnose and make recommendations. Based on my descriptions the popular conclusion was a bruised kneecap along the inner edge and bruised ligaments. Ultimately they said if I could take the pain, I likely wouldn’t be doing more damage. This made me feel better.

I spent the day icing my knee, taking large amounts of Alieve, and watching racer after racer pass me by.

Day 10: Lima, MT to Island Park, ID
85 miles – 2,507 feet of climbing - Strava

The next morning I told the hotel manager I’d likely be back and headed out to “test” my knee. Confidence was low that I’d make it around the block let alone to Mexico. It was pretty painful from the start and didn’t really improve. I took solace in the medical advice I had received and convinced myself I could handle the pain. With constant screaming at myself to keep pedaling, I was mostly right.

I made it to Island Park, Idaho and decided I needed to stop and ice my knee again. I got the last hotel room and resumed my icing regimen.

Troy On Trails

Tour Divide - Part 3 of 3 Colorado to Finish

Tour Divide - Part 2 of 3 Idaho to Colorado

Tour Divide - Part 1 of 3 Canada to Idaho

Popular Posts

Flickr Images