Day 15

JUNE 23 Apgar, Rest Day #3 (sort of)

Some background before this blog entry... The traditional Adventure Cycle Route takes you over Logan Pass when you cross the Rockies, up a beautiful road known as Going-to-the-Sun Road. Traditionally, this road is cleared of snow by early June. This year, it wasn't. The snow has been thick, there have been multiple avalanches, and the bulldozers couldn't even find the road when we were there. We weren't going to be following the "traditional Adventure Cycle Route." Instead, we would be going over Marias Pass, several miles to the south of Glacier Park. Steve wasn't thrilled by the alternate ("I've heard that the Marias road is SHIT compared to Going-to-the-Sun.") We decided we would ride as far up Logan Pass on one day, and the next day would head off over Marias Pass.
A second background note: a large section of the Going-to-the-Sun road is closed to cyclists between the hours of 11 and 4, so we had to time our ascent carefully so as to be past that section by 11, and not start back until after 4.
The first ten miles up the road were narrow and windy, part of the semi-restricted section. The scenery was beyond words, so I won't even try... this is one section where I'll work to put up some pictures. Needless to say, there were tons of mountains, waterfalls, streams, lakes, and flowers. By the end of the restricted section, Steve, Michael, Pat, Bill, and Dave had met up with dad and I and we all rode together for the rest of the ride. There were frequent picture stops (and pee stops, for that matter) and before long, we reached a sign that said, "Cars prohibited beyond this point; continue only on foot or by bicycle." The road after that point, which was open for another six miles, felt like a bike path: we had the entire stretch of asphalt to our selves, barring the few dump trucks rumbling by to help clear the road up ahead.
At one point, some walkers by the side of the road beckoned us over to ride next to them. At
first we didn't understand, but then we saw a black bear lumbering along where we had just been. Dad and I hesitated for a moment, then decided to ride past the bear, which looked pretty mellow. "Make sure you have film in your cameras, because this could be entertaining!" dad called as we pedalled down the road. Luckily, there was no 'excitement' as we went past the bear.
Eventually, we reached the end of the open section. There was another sign, this one prohibiting all travel beyond that point; we all took two steps past the sign and posed for pictures. We rode back a ways and went for a hike up to Avalanche Creek. The first part was along a raised trail, crowded with people. At one time, we passed a large group of old people, all wearing name tags that said 'America by Rail.' "Nicole has been instructed to shoot me if I ever sign up for that sort of tour." Michael confided, straight faced.
"It would probably be a mercy killing." I agreed. Soon, we turned off of the raised trail and began walking along a rough dirt path next to Avalanche Gorge, a narrow crevasse of stone, worn smooth by hammering waters. I could have sat next to that for hours... it was mesmerizingly beautiful. About an hour later we came to Avalanche Lake itself, if possible, even more beautiful than the gorge. It was a glacial lake in a little valley with steep stone walls and waterfalls tumbling down the sides.
"It doesn't even seem real." Michael said, "It's like something out of a movies." I thought pretty much the same thing... it wouldn't have seem out of place on Alderaan or Naboo (Please forgive the Star Wars allusion!) At the lake, Pat and I jumped into the frigid waters, wearing only our bike shorts. We lasted about thirty seconds. I think Steve says it best on his blog: "SHRINKAGE!! that's snow melt boys!! "
After our hike, it was already past four, so we were allowed to go back down to our campsite. Everyone but Steve, Dad, and I stopped for dinner at a lodge partway down the road; it was only after we passed the restaurant that dad and I realized we had almost no food for dinner back at camp. I suggested using what we had... extra noodles, blueberry yogurt, and curry powder... to make a rather desperate dinner, but dad wasn't buying it. After a hungry, irritable descent, I rode into West Glacier to pick up some food for dinner while dad went back to camp to set up the stove. It was only once I was at the store that I truly realized how hungry I was. I aimlessly wandered the aisles, staring at various food items but never putting anything into the basket. Finally, I stopped myself, took some deep breaths and focused my rapidly bonking brain. What do I need? Food for dinner. What should we have? etc. Still, I returned to camp with only a can of beef stew and a can of green beans. Luckily, Greg and Caroline offered us some of their extra noodles, and dad managed to do his magic, creating a decent dinner.