NaKeD On ThE DiVidE part 7: SolRaK RiDeS FrOm BuTTe To ThE WaRmInG HuT

I was an Army of one out there.

I admit that I kind of envied all the other riders who had acquired buddies or packed in buddies.  They had each other in the quiet times and when times went bad.

But I also remembered that the point of this ride was for me to be able to be alone.

AND I was fine alone.  I just was a little weird alone.

I talked to myself out loud frequently.  Sometimes I was my own coach barking charging orders on the climbs, " OK STAND UP AND PEDAL 30 REVOLUTIONS< GO!!!"

OR

"GET EM LOS< CHASEM DOWN".

I wish I was telling you stories that were not true, but that's really what was happening out there.   I would occasionally pass a rider, but no part of the ride, did I bar up side to side with anyone and talk.  I wasn't being rude, I was just on a mission and that mission involved ME and MY own Pace and I had yet been able to find someone that could slide into that pace.

I remember getting up in the hotel room, on a mission to head to the shop to get my bike looked at.  The previous eve I had sent a message to the Manager via Facebook but got no response.

I was there on time, had breakfast before hand.  And was caught off guard by the following interaction.

I want to be politically polite in my telling of this next part of the story.

Reason being is that I don't mean to truly offend anyone.  If anything, I am telling a story the way I Experienced it and even the thinnest sheet of paper has another side.  I will leave out names.

But a person there, who works there, was telling me that there may be no solution to my problem.  Telling me that they worked hard on it the day before and that they didn't even charge me.  To which I said," I did put money in the tip jar, but let me digress.  I am not blaming anyone, I just need a solution."

And I wasn't blaming anyone.  Them elixirs are old and they are garbage.  5 plus years of hard miles.  I was not placing blame on them at all and I was thankful they were so generous.  But I had money and I needed a solution that was my only point.  I work at a bicycle shop, there is always a solution, I may not like it, but there is always a fix.  I may have to wait 3 days, but there is always a fix.

Problem: Calipers would not open enough to accept new pads, they were constantly rubbing.

Possible solutions since nothing had really worked the day before:
Sell me new brakes?
Take off brakes off a bike on the floor, sell them to me, order new brakes to replace the take offs?
OR call AVid
OR order new brakes
Or sand the new pads?

I think there were all kinds of possible solutions but I was put off by the lack of empathy and the agitated response.
O well.
I don't know whats going on in anyone's life and I didn't let it bother me too much, I just wanted to solve it.

Turns out the problem solved itself.

This all had gone down before it even went in the stand.  The lack of believing in a solution was the biggest obstacle that morning.  But it was put in the stand.  The day before they had sprayed the calipers with Pb blaster or something similar and it seems that overnight, it worked things free and when the person who put it in the stand attempted to manually push the calipers open, they did open and all was right and the brakes were flawless for the remainder of the event.

While I was leaving, Happy that I finally had brakes, I ran into Rick Ashton.  I thought Rick was in front of me all this time.  He was in and out and I took a shorter way to get back on route, stocking up on food on the way out of town and scoring some sandwich bags for my feet, I was finally getting smart about the weather.

I thought rain was gonna hit all morning long as I made my way up and over the first big pass.  It was a nice ride up, I saw riders coming down the mountain, with their running dogs, all in good spirits.  I got splashed when a passing truck hit a puddle, but O well, even that couldn't dampen my mood, how happy I was to be rolling again.

I got to the top of pass and noticed that the route I was gonna ride was perfectly weaved in between a storm to the left of me and a storm to the right.  I was literally riding a singletrack path of good weather.  It was rolling terrain as well, giving away to long downhills.  I cooked one right hander too fast and ended up in the ditch, without a crash or injury.  Then did it again on a left hander almost colliding into a huge boulder.  I resolved to not cook anymore corners.  I needed to be more cautious.  I was anticipating cresting fleecer ridge and was pretty happy about it.  Enjoying a roadside lunch and then off, chasing tracks in the mud.

I finally saw my first south bound rider.  That was cool.  He wasn't in a race that I know off, but I knew he was a GDMBR rider.  As I got closer to the top I saw more and more tracks eventually, catching sight of what looks like a gigantic GRASSY MOUND on top of a big mountain.
 FLEECER!
From where I was at the bottom I could see a muddy ATV track carved down the middle of it and I could see a tiny little figure pushing their bike up the mound.

I pedaled and grinded and it got steeper, but eventually got closer and I finally met the owner of the tracks I had been chasing.  It was Rick! I pedaled by, happy that I had officially caught and passed another Floridian, got on top of fleecer and started to make my way down the back side.

At one point, it looked like I was going to pedal right off the edge of the earth, it was a vista like I had never seen before.  I started down fast at first on the loose boulder strewn mound side.  Then slowed to a crawl, carefully picking my way, eventually stopping cause it was just too steep and too loose, remembering that this was where my Friend Rob almost died.

After forever, I got to the bottom and rolled out, super fast downhill for lots of miles and a HUGE cattle-guard jump at the end.  I rolled into Wise River.  Stocked up on more supplies, and then stopped at the restaurant/bar/hotel/laundromat/convenience store, crazy.

I went in, cooled my heels, got water, sat down for dinner.  While In there I saw one of the two Australians.  Not the vegan one, who had crashed on Fleecer, and was now out of the race.  My plan was to push to Polaris before going to bed and after Rick caught up, he easily talked me into staying at the Sky Line Lodge.  He left two hours before me.  I left and started up the mountain.  It was a pavement ride to Polaris, but I underestimated the distance and it got dark and cold on me.  The moon was full.  Probably the biggest I had ever seen.

All over to my left and to my right, there were a hundred or more campsites all over the country side with fires burning and people hollering and having fun.  It was quite the treat.  I climbed higher and higher, it got colder and colder and the sky line lodge seemed so far away.  I made my way up to the plateau on the mountain top and remember seeing a cabin at the top of the hill, wishing I could stay inside.  Got around the corner and saw a sign for a mountain top picnic spot, and kept rolling.

I got a quarter mile past it.  And decided the sky line lodge was too out of reach for the coldness that was coming in fast.  I could of put on a ton of clothes and kept going, but It had been a big day, and I was tired.  So I decided I would stay in a Montana Hilton for the night.  Figured that mountain top picnic spot had to have a bathroom.

And it did.

But it also had a cabin.

The same cabin I saw from the road.

I approached it and saw that all it had holding it shut was a tiny little stick.  I pulled it out and there it was, paradise.  Chopped wood stacked.  Two picnic tables, fireplace and a pot belly stove, all there wide open and public.

I made myself at home.  Settled in for the night in the comforts of my own private cabin.  This was by far the best day I had since leaving BANF.