Wednesday, September 6. Conner, MT, to Missoula, MT. Rest day, September 7.
Missoula. The name was just a distant target many months ago, a foggy image of the place where the Adventure Cycling Association was headquartered, and where we would stop to tell them of our many exploits, the way we had cobbled together so many of their published routes, and what we had found that should be added to their maps or corrected.
Yeah. Then we decided somewhere in New York that we wouldn't stop there, since it was 13 miles out of the way. We figured the ACA wouldn't be very interested in our trip, since they undoubtedly see hundreds of other cross-country cyclists each year. We'd just be two more faces.
Then my drivetrain began to fail, and competent help seemed available only in Missoula. That, and one more package was waiting for us there. So we would go there after all. We would have to ride our longest day to get there; fortunately, Montana was fresh out of mountain passes, having hurled three of them at us in the past two days.
Leaving Conner was difficult - not because of the terrain, but because of the big, comfy bed Tom and Char had provided us in their guest house. True to form, we woke up just before 8 and joined our hosts for a good breakfast of cereal and bagels before leaving. They were a delight, and treated us tremendously well, all as they prepare for an open house on Thursday. Yes, the ranch is for sale; and it can be YOURS for the right price. And, if you have to ask . . .
Their place is a prime 32 acres located on the West Fork Bitteroot River and comes complete with a guest house, main house and tipi with fireplace. There is also a resident moose nearby. If you are interested, let us know and we'll put you in touch.
We made very good time on a clear, warm morning to Darby; we went through Hamilton, Corvallis and all they way to Stevensville before stopping for lunch. We found to our amazement that we had been averaging over 14 miles an hour over the 45 miles there.
Arriving in Stevensville, Nancy initially pulled up to a place she thought would be good for lunch, but they were not open. Rolling up to the next intersection, we pondered where to go; and as we did, a woman walking by stopped to ask us about our trip. We answered her questions, and then asked her if she could recommend a place for lunch. She was happy to help; she pointed out two places, but said that she would choose the Old Coffee Mill and Eatery just across the street. That turned out to be an excellent recommendation - we had a very satisfying lunch there, including a fine dessert (oatmeal raisin cookie for me, chocolate-covered peanut butter bar for Nancy) and a relaxing hour or so.
In the restaurant, numerous framed photographs hung on the walls, photos taken by a couple of locals (19 year old boys, we were informed). Some of the pictures looked remarkably like the Oregon coast, and so we asked about them - and found that they are indeed from parts of the coast that we might actually be pretty familiar with. Quite a coincidence, I thought. But then, the Oregon coast is a really remarkable and beautiful place, so perhaps we should not be surprised to see photographs of it placed on the wall as artwork. It IS art.
The road from Stevensville to Lolo, highway 93, is paralleled by a bike path the entire way, making that portion of the trek pretty stress-free. We did not meet another cyclist until after we went through Florence, and they were locals, not touring; they did not stop to talk with us, anyway.
Rain threatened off and on all the way to Lolo, and when we finally had to get on 93 for the last 13 miles into Missoula, it did sprinkle a bit; but it was too little to dampen our spirits. We had a wide shoulder and little wind, which, had there been more roads to choose from, might have caused us to question whether we were on the right road.
Missoula is a city that is alive with cyclists, even away from the U district on the east side of town. Paths line both sides of the Clark Fork River where it flows through the downtown area, with spurs that radiate off in various directions; but not only that, many of the main thoroughfares have bike lanes delineated on them. Bike parking abounds. It almost feels like Portland. Our arrival was too late to visit the ACA offices (or the post office, for that matter), so we got checked in to our accommodations and set ourselves to the necessary tasks of laundry and blogging. Nancy would post pictures tomorrow while I got my bike fixed, after we visited the ACA offices in the morning. It was a good plan.
After a very good night's sleep on the fluffiest bed we've slept in since, well, last night, we set off for breakfast and the post office. Char had provided us with a map of Missoula, a very good map produced by Discovery Map that looked like a cartoon aerial view of the city, with many specific businesses identified (including the bike shop where I will go for repairs). I love maps like this because it helps me visualize where things are more easily. So I planned to guide us to a cafe called Hob Nob Cafe on Main Street before going to the nearby Post Office; but, when we reached the spot where it should have been, it was not there. We stopped at the next intersection to discuss it (sense a recurring theme here?).
A man walking by asked if we needed directions somewhere, and I told him what we looking for and showed him the map. He took one look at it and said "Oh, that's an old one. Here, I have the latest edition. I'm the publisher." This turned out to be Kevin, and he actually is the publisher of the Discovery Map of Missoula; he had a portfolio full of the 4th edition (the one Char gave us was the 2nd edition). Don't you love coincidences like that?
He recommended a place nearby, the Shack Cafe, for breakfast, so there we went, and then off to the post office before going to the ACA offices. Unfortunately, the downtown post office is NOT the place where they handle general delivery - that is farther away on Kent Street. Hmph. We got some postcard stamps so the trip wouldn't be a total waste, and then walked over to the ACA offices.
As you enter the Adventure Cycling Association offices, on the left, there is a large corkboard with pictures of the cyclists who have stopped in this year. Each photo has the name of the cyclist and the date they stopped in, and also where they came from and where they are going. We looked them over and saw pictures of people we had met, including Kim, Luke, and Blaise; the Chris's, headed to Denver from Anchorage, AK; and Bunny, Jordan and Katie, whom we had met outside Riverside, WY.
We got our picture added to the wall, and I took advantage of the computer they make available to check e-mail (and attachments); and while we were there, the ACA staff photographer asked to take our picture in a more formal fashion, such as they might publish in their monthly magazine Adventure Cyclist. I don't harbor any beliefs that our pictures might be published, but it was fun to have them taken anyway.
The ACA staff was not exactly ebullient, which I must admit was disappointing but not really a surprise. I was just happy to add our image to the board, with the longest itinerary I could find there. That's something, but it was not the goal of this journey, of course.
We set off for the bike shop, and when they had set to work Nancy took off for the post office where they DO handle general delivery. When she returned, since my repairs were not yet complete, she took the opportunity to look around; and she found a bargain on the last two Craft lightweight thermal jackets in the shop, marked down 40% and in our sizes. Was it a sign? I think so. We got them both.
Nancy left again, this time to get some pictures posted (at last!) while I continued to wait for the repairs to be finished; and when I took a test ride, the tech said that the frame might actually be flexing enough to allow the chain to come off the gear in front. That means I will not be able to exert the full force I am capable of exerting on the pedals, which actually is a good thing - it means the chain and the rest of the drivetrain might actually last longer. It also means I will probably have to get a new bike when we settle in Portland. Gunnar, any advice? I already know the answer to that.
I took a spin out on the paths along the river and found myself at the baseball stadium for the Pioneer League team here, the Missoula Osprey. They are a farm team for the Arizona Diamondbacks, and their last home game of the season (before the playoffs, that is) is scheduled for tonight. Seems like a good diversion - and the first opportunity to catch a ballgame since we left Lawrenceville.
We walked to dinner at a mexican place near the hotel, and then walked through Caras Park and past the carousel that was installed in 1995. We watched as a girl on a multicolored horse repeatedly grabbed plastic rings from the mouth of a dragon as she whooshed by. After the carousel stopped briefly so more people could get on, she continued to gather rings until, at last, there were no more.
We got to the ballpark in the bottom of the second, and the Osprey were already leading 3-1. We had no sooner sat down when one of the Osprey players pounded a long home run to extend the lead to 4-1. Before the end of the third, the lead was 6-1, and although the visiting Helena Brewers posted 3 in the fourth, the Osprey went on to win it 6-4. The between-innings activities included ushers hurling bags of Cracker Jacks and Peanuts into the crowd, a young boy leading the crowd in the YMCA dance, and a tire rolling race. Also, everyone entering the park received a numbered team photo, and prizes (mostly gift certificates to local businesses and signed, game-used memoribilia like baseballs and broken bats) were awarded based on the number on the photos. We didn't win anything. We also bought some 50-50 raffle tickets to support a local middle school - and didn't win that, either. Still, we did find out what the giant L stood for on the mountain next to the mountain with the M on it - it stands for Loyola High School. One mystery solved.
Tomorrow we set off for at least Lolo Hot Springs, and perhaps farther. It remains to be seen whether we can climb all of Lolo Pass in one day. We'll see!
