hiking

Climbing

/ bens game / 2 Comments

So, my trip has taken a turn (not the first on this trip) which I will get to in a minute. A few days go I cycled the 80 miles out to the base of longs peak (14,259ft), with a bike climb from 5000ft up to 9500ft, collected route information from the ranger station, cycled down 6 miles to national forest and camped.

The next morning at 3am I started cycling in the pitch black by head torch back up the mountain. There is always a debate in my mind when I wake early to climb or hike about should I just lie there and be a normal person getting up at a reasonable time, is this a sane thing to do? Anyway. Arriving at the trailhead I stashed my bicycle behind the ranger station and made some hot cinnamon oats which tasted great. So this is quite a popular peak and there were plenty of people heading up while I ate. The ranger the previous day recommended setting off around 1am, naturally I chucked this piece of advice to the wind believing myself to be a supreme machine(often I am wrong in this assumption). At around 4.15/4.30am I started up, hiking and running the flatter areas. I reached the Keyhole, a natural gap in the ridgewall and only way up at first light, which is where the scrambling begins. I flew past a lot of people and reached the summit after around 2.5hours. I sat a while talking to a few other hikers then started descending. Two others descended with me and turned out to have a decent pace. Which was nice compared to the solitary ascent. After getting back to the car park I whipped up some spaghetti and a mystery silver foil packed sauce which was possibly some form of madras with lentils then dropped down to boulder for the night. There was no plan to go to boulder but 20dollars at the campsite in Lyons seemed expensive for what was there, so I carried on.

the narrow traverse on longs peak
volley ball chill out day
the narrow traverse on longs peak

In boulder its surprising just how many signs saying no camping are up around the town and surrounding area. I ended up paying 100 dollars for a motel room I didn’t want, I resented it but it did beat the hostel that offered my their last suite room for 250 dollar. This rarely happens but I was tired and hungry and had saved money the previous nights wild camping. I cycled back to Denver, cleaned up my bike with a pack of 1 dollar wipes, bought a beer from a brewery and before I finished the beer sold the bike to a gent I agreed to meet there a day previous to boost my funds a little for the next part of my trip. Met a lovely couple while drinking my beer and letting the gent go test the bike. I had a minor concern he would just ride off on it never to be seen again, but i figured if he did it would be one less thing to worry about.

Chapter 2- The Next Part

So, Through chance I have met a girl called Karli who is wanting to drive from Denver to Argentina. Her plan beats my original plan in a few ways, first, cycling a long way on paved surface is boring, really boring, especially alone its like solitary confinement on a seat not designed for a mans behind. Second, it would be nice to be on a roadtrip for a while and have a few luxuries like pressed coffee, a real seat to sit in instead of dirt, and a climbing partner for some more technical ascent, which there will be plenty of. I have spent the past couple of days hanging around and getting to know Karli and her friends. Today we went tubing on a river with a couple of beers followed by volleyball under glorious sunshine. Sometimes life is hard but I guess I can endure.

Setting off in a couple of days. Mayhem bound to follow.

Benjamin

Wind River High Route

/ bens game / 3 Comments

Nearly 100 miles, over 30,000 feet of ascent, glacier crossings, snow slopes, one microspike, a two season sleeping bag at 12,000 feet,  and a pointless laptop on my back i forgot to send before the trip. Lets Go!!

 

Flying by the seem of my pants seems to be something i can thrive on. This trip started one morning in Salida where i didn’t quite know what to do with myself.

‘Come do the wind river high route with me’ Said Cheetah, an Ultra runner I met a couple of days previous. Having nothing more exciting to do and being quite psyched about the route i had no knowledge of i said ‘Ok!’.

A hour later I had salvaged some food from a hiker box, enough for about 3 days (just), and packed up and walked out the door. Hitching back to Kathleens’ house, a half way point on the hitch route (around a 470 mile hitch) she provided maps of the Winds, a bonus as I had no idea where the route went or what was involved.

The next morning we hitched to Lander with the plan of kitting out properly for the route. I had a list of equipment I would need- an extra fleece, extra food, microspikes as a minimum if not crampons as there would be a lot of time on snow and glaciers, and finally mail off my laptop so I don’t have to carry it. We spent the night in Lander camped on the village green. Next morning after getting no where trying to find microspikes/crampons suitable for the route, and finding no fleeces at decent prices I hitched to the trailhead frustrated, eased slightly by Cheetah sharing some fried chicken.

The first afternoon we went a few miles down the trail from bruce bridge (7,142ft), swam in the river and drank a few beers. I was carrying 3 days food, by 3 days what I actually meant was 3 x 2500kcal, enough for an average working day at home, not the 6000 a day I could have done with. Most people would probably want a weeks supply for this route.

Day 1

Wind river peak(13,192ft)- I think this was about a 6000 foot climb. It passed fast, but the descent was knarly, Steep steep talus that seemed very unstable (we moved single file), followed by the first steep snow slope. We devised a plan for one of us to go first, tying some para-cord between us to pass the microspikes after the first was down. This worked well until the 30ft of cord proved about 70ft short of what we would need. What followed was Cheetah chucking the spikes as hard as possible, and me leaning down the slope with an extended trekking pole to try to reach where they managed to wedge themselves in the compact icey snow. It worked to a fashion and a short while later we were scrambling down a talus field feeling pretty good. A long descent to Big Sandy Lake, lunch, the a climb up to ‘The Cirque’, a beautiful mountain area. We squeezed one more pass, the third of the day, (Texas Pass) giving us near 10,000 vertical feet this day. Camping next to a high lake we pitched tarps for the night and the drank whisky Cheetah carried in. I’m not going to bore you too much with the exact elevation gains and drops, but its serious up and down on this trip.

day 2

Waking cold and tired, the food situation was very clear, there wasn’t enough. From this morning rationing started. By substantially reducing calorie intake and increasing daily mileage we might just swing the route if we go partly hungry every day and even hungrier with no food the last day. We had to make around 30 miles today, on a normal hiking day this wouldn’t be bad, but this was back country travel, no paths, talus, big passes, lots of snow. Cheetah shared one of his micro spikes (like mini crampons) and we both went with one each on the snow. The approaches to passes were epic, the bluff climbs enjoyable and snow firm in the morning and slush by lunch.  The end of the day was a surprise we didn’t notice when planning the night previous, after doing a mammoth 3 passes as fast as we could, we climbed a rise to a shocking site. A big pass, the biggest yet. At 6pm high in The Winds, a 3000 vertical feet climb to 12,750ft (Blaurock Pass)was a tiring odious thought. Reaching the top at 7.15 felt great. The descent was a mix of glissading and rock hopping. Camping in view of Garnett Peak, the highest in Wyoming, I was freezing. Dinner was a most miserable chicken noodle soup, the kind you put in a cup as a 4pm snack, I pretended to myself there were plenty of calories in it. Deep down I knew this was a lie.

My skimpy bag wasn’t up to a cool summer night, never mind a alpine frost. I shivered quite a bit, but consider it a good sign my body was still moving. Whats the worst that can happen right?

Day 3

Breakfast- a premix bag of oats and a breakfast essential mixed together. Today would be my last bag of MnM’s which was also my last food. Not the worst thing ever, and a coffee. In reserve i had more instant coffee and herbal tea. We approached Garnett Peak ready to turn up to Garnett Glacier near the base. A group of climbers were descending and after hearing we were torn between an ascent of Garnett Peak or attempting to finish the high route due to lack of rations they gave us a big bag of almonds, some cliff energy bars and a couple of extras. The decision was made for us, with this stroke of luck, and still short on supplies we approached Garnett peak. After assessing the route, I decided it was too dangerous to take on the steep snow gully with snow bridge over crevasse with only one microspike, (also a monsterous death drop if a slide was not arrested) so passed it to Cheetah and he went for a summit attempt. I was gutted not to be making the climb but knew it was the right call (a lot of people climb this with ice axe, crampons and roped together). I did climb around half way up as far as the rocks would allow. When Cheetah arrived back at our min camp we changed direction back to the glacier route. The glacier itself was uneventful apart from the rumble of thunder keeping us moving. When your that high there isn’t really any point in trying to run downhill.  The ascent out the other side of the glacier for those interested I would suggest warrants sturdier footware and crampons, even an axe if you can be bothered to carry one, but with one microspike on and clutching my hiking poles tight looking a little like a praying mantis I staggered up the slope above the crevasses (they were small here). A quick glissade down and one more climb out the next valley. We pushed hard over more open ground, more rock hopping, plenty of extra up and down, across a safer beautiful glacier and onto the most northern mountain of the route ‘Downs Mountain'(13,350). I’ll be honest and say I despised this mountain. I felt like Alice in wonderland on mushrooms. Giant boulders continually thwarting forward movement as my dehydrated body struggled up, continually trying to decide if I could step up, or jump across gaps, I was drained. We descended a short way down to the final camp. Cheetah cooked up the last noodle pack, added some almonds and split it with me. Man it was good to eat. This night was like the previous nights but more so, more vibrant shivering all night and frozen shoes and socks in the morning. My footwear and feet for that matter didn’t get to dry out at any point during these few days.

There are so many awesome pics and so much I could say but I’m burned. I’ll rewrite this later. Theres also going to be an awesome vid of this trip soon enough in 4k highlighting my terror and joy onroute. Here I lie battered and bruised but content in dubois. Where should I head next?

 

Colorado Trail Section

/ bens game / 2 Comments

Fearing I would be trapped in the hostel till the cogs in my mind fuse into a solid state I decided to take a friend up on an offer and go for a hike for a day or two and make a decision on where to go next. In the car as we drew closer to the pass and starting point speckles of rain began to accumulate on the windscreen.  At the top of the pass we picked our packs out the trunk and set out up the hill. 6pm. The clouds were low and a cool breeze swept around the hill. Walking this part of the colorado/continental trail is refreshing, staying high on easy trail in and out of trees. I knew from 2 years previous of a 3 sided wooden shelter with metal roof 8 miles away. This was the target, we drew towards the shelter at around half 8 as darkness was setting in and rain becoming heavy. To my surprise there were tents pitched around but nobody in the shelter itself. Saving a tent from becoming heavy and wet and having space to move and think it was the only logical place to unroll a sleeping bag and heat some noodles. It rained the whole night. I tried catching rain dripping off the roof but every time i placed my pot the drips seemed to change landing patterns.

In the morning the tenters joined us for breakfast. The day continued much the same as the evening before, in a semi-concious zombie state soaked to the bone and hands numbed enough to move slowly when trying to use them. I was calm and composed, trying to be at one with the rain and embrace the cold, not entirely believing myself it was worth coming out.  I fashioned what I would call a pumpkin prom jacket out of an orange coated survival bivi bag, this added a small amount of warmth at the expense of my dignity and of Sabrinas’ who hiked with me. Towards the middle of the day we arrived at the summit of Sgt. Mesa. A beautiful high hill with meadows and trees and fluffy black storm clouds a mile or two off to the side.

Sabrina said “As least the storm cloud is over there”.

Moments later lightning forked across the sky close above out heads with a tremendous crack like a wagon plowing into a concrete bunker. Where most people would stop and sit or panic the thru hiker mentality of ‘stay calm and carry on’ shone through boldly and we kept hiking along the ridge line like a couple of idiots. The addiction to hiking building, adrenaline growing, and tree cover getting thinner. The ridge line narrowed slightly and the rumbles became bombs detonating very close. Another hiker called Steven was heading the opposite direction towards the Mesa summit. I wouldn’t want to be him.

a break in the clouds
the only shelter i know of on the entire cdt
islands in a sea of cloud

We pitched tent about half way along the 6 mile ridge close to where a tree had been previously struck by lightning. They say lighting doesn’t strike the same place twice, a myth I was willing to believe for the evening with impending rain seconds away. Pitching early did not save us from rain splashing up between the fly sheet and inner tent. This did not put me in the mood to attempt to cook noodles alfresco so we went to sleep hungry questioning why it was so. I dreamt about bears savaging the tent and other wonderful things. My sleeping pad still deflates every couple of hours waking me to the real horror of trail life, the sound of everything becoming wet. This morning was glorious, not sunny, but not raining. It was nice being high up early and having a vile concoction of triple herbal tea with extra sugar from my unofficial trip sponsor ‘the hiker box’. Three miles down the path in fairer condition was where my and Sabrinas’ path would split. I turned north and down hill back towards the road and pass. Deep house tunes blasting out (a one hour kygo mix) I ran the next 6 miles. I felt alive, this is what outdoors was meant to be.

At the roadside I stuck my thumb out and the first truck pulled over.

“Jump in!!! theres a car behind I dont want to get past me” shouted the driver.

I hopped up, “Beer?”

“Yes” I replied. The next half hour back to Salida was nice. I was Acutely aware of how bad my trainers were smelling after fording a stream the colour of cow muck. The driver seemed to understand.

Salida! I’ve wound up back in Salida! Of all the towns in all the states in America, why am I going back to Salida again? With no decision on what I will do next the Vortex has me. The sirens beckon.

‘Wakey, Wakey Rise and Shine! and don’t forget your booties, its cold out there today’

 

‘The Vortex Is Real, It Sucks You In’

/ bens game / 3 Comments

I’ve been trying to leave Salida for a couple of days now. But its fighting me , its like being on a ship in rough water constantly trying to trip me up, and as I climb through the decks I fall over buckets and mops tumbling head over heal to the previous level . I’m concerned I’m going to become swallowed up by the furniture. A downward spiral of soft pillows and comfy chairs with backpackers and hikers never going anywhere. Its dangerous. My mind runs through the potential jobs of busking and bar work. Here there is no politics, no stress, just laughter. Its easy to forget why you came to a place, ‘have I really just travelled half the world and hiked and cycled thousands of miles to sit here?’

I’m in a hostel, where several people have stopped a day or two, or three. I’ve fixed  my bike and adjusted everything to go but inertia has slowed me down. I have packed several times to leave but the stairs going up to the dorm room seem to be a slide down hill for my kit and I get spun around trying to find the exit which evades me every day at 11. By the time I find it its 3pm and too late to go. I wake again at 9 am, its Ground Hog Day. Sitting back each day listening to music, singing to songs with other backpackers, and short walks around the town. Everybody here has given up everything at this moment and its peaceful. Backpackers go out to the shop, buy cheap food and cook it. Then share everything. When someone new walks in, they are invited without question. Life is cheap to sustain. There is no tearing hair out with big bills. Every hiker has a different colour and energy and its wonderful.

Yesterday when walking to the shop we came across a scared bear in a tree. The ranger in charge of the taped off area said he will likely come down in the evening when all the people are gone and run straight out the town to a quieter place. I kinda felt sorry for the poor fella, so many people vilify these black bears but he looked exhausted draped across a fork in the tree petrified of the people nearby. I hope he made it out ok.

Hopefully I do too.

Benjamin.

 

 

 

 

 

Always Pee with a View!!

/ bens game / 1 Comment

A couple of days ago a friend offered me a camping pad after I explained my goes down after a couple of hours use which i believed to be the valve leaking slightly. This is good when I wish to get up in a couple of hours but not so good when i want to sleep, its resulted in an upsetting wake up and blow up the pad night shift every night so far. I said I would persist with my pad and set off on a 115 mile ride. That night while pitching up next to a river up a cold cold pass (near Copper Mountain), the whole valve ejected itself from the sleeping pad. This left me feeling rather deflated. I took a few plasters out of my pack, kind of re-inflated the pad and taped the valve into place. It wasn’t perfect but hey, I got some sleep. The next day I woke to police lights 20 meters from where I was camped, there was a bike race crossing the main road, I packed up and rolled onto the path like I was racing.  After climbing over the last few hundred feet of pass I rolled down to Leadville where I purchased some solvent glue hoping to make a more permanent solution to my camping pad troubles. I still have not tested it.

I carried on out of Leadville to Twin Lakes where I have based myself for climbing 14ers (peaks about 14,000 feet). There is a nice small hostel, like an old village hall, with bunks down the sides, a big table in the middle, and sofas and a coffee station at one end. A lovely cosy place. The hostel owner informed me of some free wine left in the fridge going spare and food in the hiker box and I was sold. Around 7 other people stopped in the hostel, mainly CT hikers and the owner joined us for the evening. This hostel also comes with free pancakes with strawberry and rubarb in the morning, but my mind was set on an early summit.

I packed my bag in the evening, put my bike in a corner and preped. At 3.30am my phone vibrated followed by me sitting up drowsily, why do I do this to myself?? I slipped out into the night. It felt frosty and crisp. I turned on my head torch and started walking. I think it was about a one hour walk to the trailhead to go up Black Cloud Creek. Perfect darkness, I could see the Milkyway. I started climbing the 5500ft to the summit. Through dense Aspen trees I wondered if a bear would hear me coming. Would it be small enough for me to fight it if startled and aggressive?  As I cleared the treeline the sky began to lighten. I hurried to the ridge line that would take me to the summit. Just as I arrived on the ridge the sun came over the horizon, It was worth the racing up and early start. Morning light and evening light always seem best for photos. I did plan on going fast today and possibly doing a second peak, but I decided to enjoy it. The biggest mountain in Colorado to myself. I took photos getting as creative as possible. (see pics) then jogged up the ridge to the summit. Arriving on the summit at 7.15am I decided to mess with my camera and the brilliant photo op the American Flag gave me. After which i sat and ate a few energy bars. I descended fast, running past other hikers from around half way up. When I arrived back at Twin Lakes, I decided that was enough for one day, and so, I chill.

The forecast for the next few days is grim, but, there is movie theatre in Salida about 50 miles down the road that could kill a few hours indoors and i do quite fancy a movie.

Later

Benjamin

classic pose
searching dramitc???
ridgeline up
always pee with a view
hostel

 

 

Climbing Up A Teton

/ bens game

 

view from campsite at jenny lake
sw ridge of middle teton from saddle
looking at Grand Teton from the summit of Middle Teton
summit
view to middle teton from just below south fork saddle
morning up in the tetons.
snow slope up south fork to saddle
i think this is pretty cool
sun rise on way up

PRE-CLIMB

This Was a Pretty Cool Day for me that nearly didn’t happen. It started two days before, trying to collect my ice axe and crampons from the post office. I went in to enquire if a parcel had arrived and there was no parcel but the lady took my name and said she would set it aside. When I went back to collect it the next morning I was greeted by her saying. ‘They tried to deliver it but I had to refuse delivery as you hadn’t paid to have it left here, you better call UPS and find out where its gone before its lost’.

‘Thankyou’ I said in slight disbelief. I walked out and cycled back to camp.

A while later in the afternoon, and after calling UPS I found it had been take to a depot 27 miles away. On my bike I hopped and peddled as fast as I could to Jackson. I collected my parcel and cycled back. O well, 54miles isn’t too bad. When I arrived back it was around 6pm. I didn’t want to use my legs but it could have been worse.

At the campground the attendant came around for money for the night. I had only a couple of dollars left in my wallet. ‘You’ll have to go to moose to get some cash then’. second sigh of the day and i hopped on my bike and peddled the 7.5mile there and 7.5mile back. It had been a hot day, I hadn’t eaten properly and my legs were slightly cramped. This was not the easy day I imagined. Instead of 15miles, I did around 84. I rolled out my sleeping bag on a tent pitch and lay down.

SUMMIT DAY.

I woke at half 4. I was late. The plan was to be up at half 2 and start walking to the trail head. I lay there, trying to dig for that determination I had years ago. I twisted the nozzle on my camping pad and it deflated. I was committed now! No going back.

I chucked my sleeping kit into a bear box(large metal container that stores food away from bears) and pulled out my rucksack. I started walking. It was 2.6 mile to the trail head, when I arrived, I could tell sunrise was close. Half 5- I ate a choc bar, drank a 5 hour energy and started walking up. At the treeline daylight was breaking. Some of the trail i was running up. When I reached the snow in Garnet canyon I walked as high as I could then put on crampons. Up the South Fork I kept pushing fast. Suddenly it ended. The ground dropped away, I could see for miles. I was at the saddle already. It was around 7.45 am. After a few quick pics, I looked up towards the summit and started up the ridge line and into a hidden gully. It was joy, just out of the gully was good clean easy rock to climb up.  At Half 8- I was on the summit. I checked the time. Then I sat down. No one in sight. This was a pretty special feeling. The ground dropped away in all directions, I turned off my music………silence. I dithered a bit trying to get a few good pics, then after about 15 minutes I started descending.  The way down was as nice as the way up. An interaction with something natural. When I reached the saddle between the South and Middle Tetons, I decided one was enough for the day. I walked to the snow and started sliding. It was joy, glissading till it was too steep to stand. I came across another climber on the way up. ‘Butt-slide it man!!!’. And so I did. All the while fearing my lycra cycling shorts (yes I was wearing my cycling clothing) would rip and leave me in a precarious exposed position. At the end of the snow I started running, this was it, a perfect day. I reached the trail head at 11am. It was a quick day. A climber also finishing at the same time from another peak gave me a ride back to the campground. Harry and Roelie were there making lunch. They gave me fresh coffee and delicious apple and I told them of the day I had.

AFTER CLIMB.

Most would probably stop after a good alpine day, but I decided while on a roll to roll on to the next pass. a nice 43 miles , with around 8 of them near 6p.c. gradient. The flies loved me. I did not share this feeling and spent the whole ascent swinging a bottle of bear spray in the air. just over the top and I realised my back tyre was bald. I decided to change it. This was a terrible idea as the next hour was spent like a mad man fighting mosquitoes while trying to fit the new one. With the tyre barely on right i lumpily rolled down hill to the campground a mile away.

Today I cycled 103 miles to Lander where I have showered for the first time in days, this is a good thing. Tomorrow will be iced coffee and feet up.

Yellowstone, lightning, Tetons and Bear

/ bens game / 1 Comment

So I decided to take my Yellowstone Alternate just because its there. It felt pretty counter intuitive to cycle 16miles north (the wrong direction) and to voluntarily climb over the Continental Divide and extra 4 times, but, I did. The park itself is beautiful. Spoilt only by the constant stream of cars and rv’s tearing down the road from one gift shop to another like in some chaotic ritual, I had to escape the madness. They seem to stream from one gift shop to the next to get a meaningless stamp in a book and buy another ‘genuine’ gift from China. Met a few cool people on bikes around here. I had an easy day into the park and another easy day out deciding it would be better to go to the Tetons. One more lightning storm cycled through, if you check the pics carefully you can see one of the bolts.  Im currently based at Jenny lake (though writing this in Starbucks in Jackson due to the very generous allowance of seats, power and wifi).

I met Harry and Roelie (she calls her self Rachael to make it easier for everyone). A lovely couple from Holland cycling north. I started yesterday knowing I had to sort some form of ice axe and crampon for my next endevour, I will climb the South Teton and Middle Teton peaks. I woke, cycled 5miles to breakfast, then about 15miles to the campground, then 7.5miles downhill to the town of ‘Moose’. From here I checked my bank balance to discover to my horror that I had not been a victim of card fraud, but overspent somewhat, so i can say goodbye to the chance of buying a house anytime soon. After arranging for my friend to send some kit to the local UPS; I cycled 7.5miles back up the hill, where I sat and thought what can I do with this delightfully empty day. After twiddling my thumbs for a while, along came Harry and Roelie. They announced they were going to the pub and invited me back down the hill for beer. A few pints later after an enjoyable afternoon we cycled back up the hill.

This morning i could hear some thumping about in the trees, presuming it was Harry in a drunken I felt obliged to check he was ok. As i came closer to the noise maybe 100m from the tents, I started to recognise the sound of a bear foraging. I ran back to the tent, grabbed the camera, and slowly approached. The noise was down the bank to the lakeside and i could hear it slowly moving along. I decided in the most inadvisable way to head it off further along. So a went ahead and waited. I now have a kind of cool vid of the black bear approaching. It was in a dip behind a downed tree and as it rose up, spotted me about 20 meters away, and scarpered off. A great way to start a day. I wonder what it is like for bears to be in constant fear of the thousands of people hiking and cycling around these parks.

Tomorrow i can collect the ice and and crampons and get ready for my thursday ascent. Followed by sprinting the following day to Atlantic City to meet Justin for a cycle across the 120mile Great Divide Basin. Bring on the next few days!!!

 

 

yellowstone park
early morning yellowstone
more lightning
yellowstone
beautiful canyon
spot the black bear (he is in there)
Justin, Harry and Roellie
deer in camp
mirror lake in the morn-jenny lake, tetons
local climber/skimo on 7mile ride home

A change of Direction going the right way

/ bens game / 2 Comments
resupply-the food of a hiker biker
1st flat
lovely family that gave me lemonade from a home made stand
the 2nd flat
camp out just before helena
choice of teepee or wagon to stop in in ovander for the night
crosses that line the road at the scene of accidents, a reminder of how dangerous roads can be
4th july parade, with free beer, beef jerky, and lots of red white and blue
leading the parade
my home, office, transport and leisure for the next months

So, I was heading back to the trail Via Amtrak when i bumped into an old friend Lucky Larry; and was inspired. Instead of hiking the whole divide, Why not cycle the great divide and climb the interesting parts? With the increased daily mileage so fewer days= less food, a bicycle would pay for itself by Mexico (Is what i have told myself)

This idea was in the back of my mind as i hitched from East Glacier to Browning towards where i left off. At Browning after a couple hours waiting, with not many cars passing, a young guy pulled over called Skyler. He agreed to driver me and after a small diversion I decided to stop the night in Lincoln. On route Sky said he wanted to hike up a pass we were going over. We pulled in at the top of the pass, he goes to the boot and pulls out some trainers.

‘I found these at the hostel, can you believe someone would chuck them away’.

I was surprises to be staring at the trainers i chucked away in East Glacier which caused my feet so much grief through the snow and subsequently a week off trail.  This was a entertaining twist. After the climb it was pretty much settled I might as well go back to Missoula to buy a bicycle. Sky gave me a lift in and breakfast in his awesome self built trailer house. At 9am I started searching the town for a bike, and towards the end of the day was getting desperate to find the spec i wanted at an affordable price, everywhere I went had just sold out, or had the wrong frame size. Sarah and Josh put me up again for the night and the next morning I met a guy from a bike shop to buy a used bike that was perfect. My steel framed machine of speed, mechanical discs, 40mm tyres(with space for a little more), wide drop bars. I set off around lunchtime and cycled around 50mile to Ovander, stopped briefly by a flat tyre from a piece of hard wire. In Ovander they welcome cyclists with open arms and contribution based accommodation($5), I opted to spent the night in a trailer with a comfortable mattress and grab a burger in the bar.

Saturday morning i cycled into Lincoln to join the great divide mountain bike trail, as I arrived in the town the street were lined with people, I presumed they were all there to greet me and send me on my way, but to my disappointment found they were actually getting ready for the 4th July parade in a few minuted time. So i took my place among the ranks and waited. The parade started and within a minute was handed free beer and beef jerky. Sweets were chucked to the children and the streets lined with red white and blue, cowboy hats and solid boots. I talked with the locals for a while then tried to set off. Across the road a family stopped me and ensured i had at least a cup of fresh lemonade. The children were using the money made to buy candy.

I set off at 1pm hoping to go a few miles, but the route drew me in and I was soon slaughtering myself, mile by mile up and up. The first descent was described as steep, and yes it was, half way down i pinched my second tube. The trail is easy but this was worrying in the first 15 mile off road as I had one more tube in reserve having spent 2 already. There was a camp area in the next valley, but I was flying on adrenaline. So climbed the second pass , this descend was smooth but with large washed out sections running and weaving down the trail, making me nervous on my 40mm gravel tyres. Lower where it was slightly rockier i started chucking the bike about; But the steel machine kept going, the wheels staying unbuckled to my relief. By half 7 I thought there is no point in stopping this close to the pass, so pushed and camped then night just off the road down to Helena. I planned on spending a day gettin to Lincoln and two days getting to Helena but had made it all on one day. Yusss!!!!!. The night was spent with what i presume was a pack of coyotes howling a couple hundred yards away. I was downwind and glad to be receiving no attention, with only an inner tent between me and them.

Sunday morning I have rolled downhill into town and am now sat back drinking a beer waiting for my luxury 2* motel room to be made ready. Ahhh hot shower, clothes washing and A/C (I hope).

In summary, the plan has changed, by covering the boring sections of trail 2-3 times faster, the bike will pay for itself and i will cover ground quicker. I shall climb peaks on the way down to Mexico as I choose, hopefully a good few 14ers (no fixed plan but maybe one per day) and a bit of time in the wind river range prior.

I need a name for my bike, any suggestions???? The name i like will be painted or at least marker penned onto the frame forever more.

The Bob Marshall Wilderness

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Three and half days, around 120miles, Swollen Rivers, Downed Trees, Postholing in Snow and Blisters

The Bob Sounds Sweet and innocent, like and old friends coming to greet you, thats kind of what I expected, as I have been through before. But 2 years ago when I passed through it was a low snow year. This time it was heavy.

It starts with a pleasant easy trail through forest to lure you in. Then comes a river which is the start of it. Wading across the fun begins. There are about 14 crossings in the next 8 or so miles, spaced out with short walks on trail that has not received yearly maintenance yet. Because of the heavy winter snow the trail teams haven’t been clearing the fall trees yet. But as the day goes on and the crossings vary, some shallow and fast, some deeper and slow, all of them dumping copious amounts of stones in our shoes, and the legs beginning to numb up from the cold the excitement of another crossing fades quickly, we laugh though. Im hiking with Josh again, His supreme fitness pulling me though and my vague memory of the route making for easier navigation. Its not terribly hard in ‘The Bob’ but its nice not to consult maps. Towards the end of the day I begin to flag (around mile 32) but Keep pushing, As the light begins to fade we pitch out tarps at around 38 miles in. I cook up some noodles and stare down the game trail I have just pitched next too. Would any bears use this at night? Im too tired to care too much, finish tea, and climb into my bag.

The next day I wake feeling brilliant like the trail has brought me back to life, the blisters I have don’t seem to cause any hinderance in walking, I recall the route from last time and we do a short bit of cross country through forest to find the trail a bit higher, over a small pass and into Strawberry Creek, the last time I was here the trails had been cleared, this time it was clambering over one tree after another. At the bottom of the creek, a trail team has just entered the valley, I can’t help but feel if I set off 2 weeks later, it would have been an easier walk. The team warns us about the river level and that they wouldn’t do the crossing lower down. But we have come so far and not wanting to be deterred push on. The crossing was at an island, at the far end a cluster of blown down trees and branches washed together and holding under pressure from the water provide access to the island, Crossing this I could hear the water rushing below. On the island we go through some bushes and reach the second crossing, its high, fast flowing, and plenty of downed trees with branches pointing down to create traps and nasty endings if you were swept off your feet. Slightly higher seemed the best bet. Its the only crossing I did not photo due to the more real danger. Over this river and the Bob goes wilder.

We meander our way up the next valley, sometimes walking up the waist deep stream where the path has been washed away. Its snow melt water and very cold. Climbing higher we enter the snow line. I had planned on having lunch at Davis Lake but after slipping, sliding, potholing the way there, along with the wind beginning to howl, and arriving to a half frozen lake, we quickly eat some snacks, put on extra layers and push on to Switchback Pass. I am glad I kept my ice axe now as this required a steep traverse of a few hundred meters followed by a short enjoyable ascent up a slope to gain the pass.  We are aiming for a ranger station in the next valley. Its cold, my feet hurt with blisters, and as we descend it begins to rain on and off. 7 miles, doesn’t seem far. By the last mile and a half I’m slowing, Josh is ahead. The downed trees here are humbling, the physical effort required at the end of a long day really push me. As I clamber over and through the only way I can see possible my pack snags and pulls. 1 Mile to go I tell myself, as around every corner even the smaller trees seem bigger hurdles,  half a mile, and the kind of agitation hearing a dentist drill causes sets in. As the station comes into sight I see Josh gathering fire wood. Im relieved, I join him. We camp with out sleeping bags lay out on the porch saving the effort of pitching tarps for another night.

In the morning I wake, turn on my stove for hot coffee and drain my blisters with a pin as I wait, the drop in pressure instantly relieves the dull pain. This morning starts with a river crossing within seconds, followed by a long gentle ascent up a valley, at one point we can’t see the trail for downed trees, so we scramble down the hillside, clamber along the valley floor and climb back up further along. We head for Chinese Wall, an impressive cliff we will follow for 5 miles. When we gain sight all we can see is the snow we will have to get over. Its been a sunny morning and this makes the going hard, potholing at 1mph for around 3 miles. But the snow clears and progress speeds. Along the footpath I can see big bear prints and wildcat prints. I wonder how recent they all are. After 3 full days of hard work and battered feet I’m tired. We descend the final time towards the Augusta Hitch, I have already said I’m getting off here to rest. Josh is ahead but I see no sense in tiring myself to catch up. I sit down by a river eating trail mix, pitch my tarp and sleep. The next morning I have 10 easy miles of good trail to the trailhead. Im kinda glad ‘The Bob’ is over, pretty as it is.

the half frozen Davis Lake
Chinese Wall
trees over the trail for miles
Towards the top of Switchback Pass
river crossings- one of over 25 that day

GLACIER PARK, COLD WET AND HAPPY- Part 2- round 2

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After bailing out of our original plan I had a day off. My good friend Tribhu from Spokane came by the hostel to surprise me. I had bad blisters which had opened up and bled the day before so getting a new pair of light weight trainers from him was just about the best present possible. We headed upto St Marys’ campground to be in position for hitting the trail again, pitched our traps and sat around a couple of hours drinking beers enjoying life.

Day 4- Because we stopped early on trail a couple of days before we had an extra 14miles to our journey. We added river crossings over downed trees for fun. After the 14miles began our 6 mile to the top of Triple Divide pass. The snow was heavy and ice axe and crampons were essential to gain higher areas. I’ll admit using crampons in soft trainers was a bit unusual but progress was fast. Instead of using switchbacks to the top of the mountain we decided to ascend straight up a snowslope for the last 300meters, topping out were the trail could be seen. We expected the other side of the mountain to be clear of snow(south facing). What we found was even more snow. This was a ‘Yikes’ moment. Its potentially dangerous to go on snow slopes late in the day on southern facing aspects when in the sun due to avalanche risks. We scrambled along the ridgeline to gain snow free talus to descend. After a few hundred feet we found the descent path and to our relief it was snow free. The walk down the valley had a few more interesting stream crossings banked out with snow. By the valley bottom we had covered 30miles and decided to take an easy road walk the next day due to rain forecast overnight. It did rain. And to my joy my tiny tarp sheet held up and kept me dry, allowing me also to dry my socks and gloves.

The next morning we covered the 22miles back to the hostel. I’m now getting ready for approx 200miles of the Bob Marshall Wilderness. P.S. My feet hurt and are very blistered.