Day 13, part 1

JUNE 21 Eureka MT to Apgar Village, Glacier National Park


We got up early in the park in Eureka to say good bye to mom and Barb, who were driving home. Since most of the "luxury" camping gear and food they had brought was already packed away, we were back to our 'usual' breakfast: a cup of yogurt with grapenuts mixed in and a mug of tea (I don't think I even had the tea, since the stoves were all packed away and we had no hot water... that's also why we didn't eat instant oats.) Since dad and I planned to push a long day, 86 miles from Eureka to Glacier, while everyone else planned to take two days to cover the same distance, we walked around, bidding everyone farewell until tomorrow. Last we came to mom and Barb; the goodbye was rather anticlimactic, considering I won't see my mom for 8 weeks.


Fourteen miles into the ride, we came to the town of Fortine (how coincidental!) As we entered the town, dad spotted a cyclist circling up ahead. "Uh-oh..." he muttered, assuming it was Steve, and that his bike was having mechanical issues again. As we got closer, though, the figure turned into Michael. "Everything okay?" my dad called.


"Yep. Just waiting for pie." Michael said, pointing at a cafe/bakery next to the street. Unfortunately, with 72 miles still to ride, we didn't have time to wait for pie with Michael (now, 72 miles seems like nothing!)


Fifty miles in, we came to the town of Whitefish, where everyone else was stopping to spend the night. We were feeling pretty confident about making it the next 30 miles to Glacier, since it was only about noon. Or first stop in town was the post office, our first mail drop of the trip. Standing outside the post office were two new bike tourists; they turned out to be 2 women I met at our campground in Sandpoint, Kandace and Pritay (pronounced Prithee). Their bags were unpacked, and clothes and gear were strewn across the sidewalk. "We're trying to find some stuff to send home, lighten our load a bit." Kandace explained, "So far, we haven't found much. it's all important!"

I walked into the post office, fingers crossed that I would get some mail. I walked up to the counter and fumbled to display my passport, stammering, "Ah... general delivery for Seth Greendale." The man behind the counter nodded and disappeared into the back. A couple of long moments later, he came back carrying a letter, two postcards and a big Manila envelope. The post cards were from my Aunt Kathy and Uncle Bilal, the letter from my dad's friend Nancy, and the envelope full of hand written letters from Aunt Kathy's first graders, with lots of hand drawn pictures. I was elated! It's always fun to get mail! The letters from the first graders were full of questions: where do you sleep? how tall are the mountains? do you ever get stuck? have you seen any wild animals? etc. etc. A message back to all those first graders: "Dream Big! Riding across the country may seem like a lot of work, but it's also a lot of fun. If it's something you want to do, GO FOR IT!!"

The next stop in town was Glacier Cyclrey, which seems to be a major stop for many Northern Tier cyclists. The people at the bike shop suggested we go to lunch two doors down at an excellent pizza place. They also gave us their Bike Tourist Guest Log, which all bike tourists passing through sign and write a little something in, sometimes a note, sometimes a poem, sometimes a picture. I wrote a not about our trip and how wonderful it is to meet so many fantastic people along the way; it's like a constant party atmosphere. Over lunch, Steve and Dave told us stories about Ragbrai, an organized ride across Iowa. That, too, has a very party like atmosphere. "In my opinion," Dave said, not for the first time, "Any bike tourist has to do Ragbrai at least once. It's a must." Apparently, there are people who ride unicylces, paraplegics who pedal with their hands, people who carry barbecues on their bicycles, and lots and lots of beer. As many as 20,000 riders have participated in a single year!

After lunch, dad and I returned to the bike shop to get some alternate directions from Whitefish to Glacier. The man in the bike shop sounded like he'd given this spiel before. "So, nice, strong touring bikes," he said, glancing out the window at our bikes, "You can handle a little dirt road. We'd rather change a flat than scrape our partner off the pavement."

"Depends how hot it is." dad joked.

"Well, of course you'd find a shade tree..." He dove into his instructions, highlighting roads on a map, and noting a place where a spring of ice cold water flows out of the mountain. Just as he finished, Dave, Pat, and Bill walked in.

"Ah, we probably need those exact same directions..." Dave said. Sighing, the man started to give the directions all over again.