Today was a day of foibles by yours truly.
Since it was a long day (Missoula to Butte, 135 miles) the schedule for trailer loading (i.e. when I can drop off my belongings for transfer to the next hotel) started at 6:45AM. So naturally you want to work out your morning activities so you are walking out there with your bag, bike ready to go, at 6:44AM. After a hurried breakfast (start time 6AM) but with the luxury of two cups of coffee, I found myself running late: still in my room at 6:40. I decided I would need to make just one trip out there, rolling my bag, briefcase and bike in a hall-hogging rush to the door. As I moved my roller bag outside to the hallway and fastened the briefcase to it, the room door closes, and .... I don't have my room key so can't get my bike. Which has my ID in it. Off I hurried to the front desk to get a duplicate, but they require ID, so I pointed to my helmet which has a yellow sticker with my name on it (the tour provides the sticker so people don't have to ask you what your name is). As a customer at the counter laughed out loud the front desk guy agreed it was good enough so I got the duplicate and fetched my bike.
Of course by this time it was after 6:45! My optimization algorithm was slipping badly. I see that folks are already hitting the road even though its still quite dark. I change shoes, get my stuff handed over, jump on my bike, ride 100 yards when I notice I'm not wearing my cycling gloves. They are in my back pocket waiting for me to put on sunscreen. After just a fraction of a second's consideration of going without it, I take a U turn. Sunscreen is available at the trailer (so I don't need my bag) so I hurriedly apply an extra liberal amount to head, face, arms and legs, put on my gloves, and head out.
I've ridden about 1/2 mile when I realize my water bottles are empty. That's another thing I intended to do at the trailer. In this case the moment's consideration says going back is way too costly, so I figure somewhere out here will be a convenience store where I can buy a bottle of Gatorade. There is a illuminated gas station ahead! No store. I'm close to the Missoula city limit... aha! there is another gas station ahead on the left. I get up there and the store part is dark. Just then I spot an espresso shop that has an Open sign illuminated. I whip in there and see a 5 gallon water dispenser right next to the door. I fill my bottles and explain my predicament to the barista. As I prepare to leave she says "Remember: water is important."
I felt guilty for the rest of the morning about not having gone back to my bike and fetched a $5 bill to leave with her. And it was a great day for that piece of wisdom. At the final rest stop of the day it was 95° full sun, windy and very low humidity. I filled my bottle with ice, then water, then stood there and drank it all down twice before feeling like I had enough juice in me to keep going.
Today's ride was interesting because it was almost identical to a stage we rode in the 2018 transcontinental. So I had the visual memories and impressions of specific parts of the route. Well it turns out that kind (all kinds?) of memory is unreliable. For example I remember and can visualize riding over a rise which provided a view up the a valley along which I-90 ran. Today I saw the road never really gave that perspective of I-90. And this comeuppance was repeated throughout the day. However at a more general level I can boast that I remembered the road pretty well, which felt good.
With so many miles we got plenty to sight-see today, in a rolling kind of way. Here is the picture collection.
Clark River gorge taking us out of Missoula, before sunrise. Temperature was 50.
Other oddities:
We saw several of these old-style grain silos constructed from Douglas Fir beams.
This geography of this lake is really odd because it seems to be surrounded by peaks, and one thinks "oh heck, I'm going to have to ride over that." Then after riding the length of the lake (on a pretty flat road this time) you see another lake, Silver Lake, that seems to be basically at the same level, except this time the dam is on the other end. Passing the dam you then plunge down the drainage creek's valley on the other side. So you never have to climb any of that ridge.
What followed was a blast: 16 miles dropping 1300' into Anaconda with a strong tailwind doing 25-35 MPH the whole way.
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