While getting settled in my bivy I practiced using the zipper as I rarely zip the bivy closed. I don't want to get trapped inside when nature calls!! I was able to close it about 3/4 of the way, leaving a nice vent for cooler air so I didn't feel like I was suffocating. I finished futzing with it and sometime after dark I believe I dozed off for a bit.
That only lasted a couple of hours. Why? I was awaken to the pitter-patter sound of raindrops hitting the bivy. This continued all night. Nature did call during the rain and I relented and took care of business quick in the light rain. At least we had the common sense to put our shoes/socks under our rain gear along with the helmet, etc. I tried going back to sleep, but it wasn't happening. Daybreak arrived and I could hear Justin moving around, but neither of us wanted to get up. The thought of packing wet gear in the rain isn't something I like to do, but the rain wasn't relenting and we needed to get going.
We did our best to keep things as dry as possible while packing as quickly as possible. Before long, we were ready to go. We still had another 1200' or so until the summit. We delayed breakfast until we were well on our way.
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| Our moist campsite, all packed and ready to go. |
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| Rode some, walked most. It was slow going in the wet cold. |
We found a place to eat breakfast with a log to sit on and some tree cover. The rain was never intense, steady was the name of the game. It was also on the chilly side of things, maybe hovering around 45ยบ. Leaving camp I had thought to myself how this was prime hypothermia conditions. We needed to keep moving to generate body heat, hike-a-bike sure helps with that. However, when we stopped, I was feeling pretty crappy. Maybe it was a lack of calories combined with the cold. I couldn't really feel my hands or feet, but I wasn't shaking. I knew I had to eat and the thought of what we had to do to get out of there was quite daunting - don't focus on that - focus on eating. I managed to choke down my Hostess coffee cake from Bodes when that uncomfortable tingling, pseudo burning sensation came over my hands. Kind of like the fringes of frostbite, but it wasn't that cold. It was actually a good thing, because I was beginning to regain feeling in my hands and my general being started to feel better, like we actually CAN get out of here today. We started to move again up the mountain. I'd prefer to not relive the previous 20-30 minutes while on a ride again.
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| After breakfast, we were able to crack a smile or two. |
We were nearing the top when a northbounder approached. His name was Mitch, from Bozeman, MT. He began telling us how his evening went: heavy rain, lightning, hail!! Yikes. I guess I'm glad we stopped short of the pass. He mentioned how a few buddies had committed to the ride and they were all planning this grand tour of the route. I interrupted him, 'and here you are, all alone'. He laughed, yep. Going solo. We wished him luck and continued on. *He has a tracker of the
GDMBR page, listed as 'M'.
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| Soggy 2-track near the summit. |
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| Same area as above, from where we came. |
A few of the northbound riders informed us of an upcoming section of route that was tore up. Some thought is was a logging operation, others roadwork. The length seemed to vary from a half mile to two full miles of mud. Yet everyone's bike looked exceptionally clean. It did rain. Hmmm.
During the initial 1000' descent off the top we leapfrogged a few folks who had been car camping - including a Prius. Not long after we passed the vehicles for the final time we found the section of road in question. One of our first thoughts was: There's no way that Prius is driving through this. Zero.
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| Yuck. Active road grader, in the rain. |
We debated for a couple of minutes on our approach. The roadbed looked horrible. I made the suggestion to try and ride the grass next to the road. If it's only a half a mile, we can do that. We started on the downhill side since it was fairly clear at first, but then had to move to the uphill side of the road.
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| Let's do some freeriding!! |
We had to navigate a fair amount of down trees, get creative with the routing, climb a little extra, etc. It was slow going and taxing. At one point, we were down by the road and I went to start pedaling, slipped, pinning my left calf between my bike and a giant boulder. It was awkward and could've easily ended badly. It felt like a Charlie Horse to the calf, but otherwise I was fine.
We continued off the road for a bit more. Another northbounder was approaching, walking through the muck and not looking like he was enjoying himself. I yelled down to him: 'Is that as horrible as it looks from up here?' He spotted us, shrugged, and said 'At least the tires keep rolling'. From what we could see, they were. Not a minute later we saw the road grader returning down the road. Justin and I looked at each other and the terrain in front of us. The rider mentioned it was at least another 1 1/2 miles for us. Our decision had been made: drop down to the road like everyone else.
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| It looks horrendous, but it was more greasy than sticky. |
Our feet sunk in the mud a couple of inches, but the bike didn't. We knew if we tried to ride, we'd sink right in, the ground was too saturated to support that kind of weight. We were both fine with our shoes looking like shit, just keep our bikes 'sort-of' clean-ish. On a couple of short downhills, we hopped on one pedal, coasted a bit to speed up the process. It mostly worked and before too long the two miles of slop was behind us. We knew when we reached Cuba, we'd be on the hunt for a hose or car wash.
With the muck now behind us, the rain let up a bit. We could now focus on riding and getting off the mesa. We knew the final descent was a ways off with a couple of climbs along the way. We had been hovering around the 9000' mark for what seemed like 20 miles. Where is that big downhill again??
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| Now the riding was getting good. |
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| A glimpse of civilization. First structures we'd seen since lunch the day prior. |
We ran into a couple from New Zealand who informed us the downhill was coming. They told us it was a few more miles of undulating terrain. Oh, okay, that isn't so bad. Almost there!!
We pedaled on, rounded a bend and coasted down, then a short up, pedal, pedal, down we go...a short up and repeat....repeat....repeat. Go ahead and repeat once more...and again...and again. One more for good measure...nah, how about another...another?? Yep. Ok, just one more...oh, for the love of God, where the f#@k is this long sustained downhill to Cuba?!? Undulating, my ass. We were fully engorged in the Land of 1000 False Downhills. Ugh.
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| Doesn't look like much, but it's uphill No. 534 on the downhill. |
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| This was an odd sight, a deer, alert and lying roadside. It didn't seem injured. "If I don't move, I'm invisible" |
We kept toying with the downhill that never arrived. Took a break and saw a couple of tents and bikes at a really nice campsite only a short bit after crossing our first running creek since the shade break the day before. Two more northbounders getting ready to tackle the Polvadera Mesa the following day. They insisted the downhill was coming, maybe one more mile they proclaimed. Justin and I had our doubts.
Off we went. Uphill...down....up,,,,down....up.....down, down, down....is this finally it??? Down, down some more and now we're just flying!! Yessssss!! Two miles after the start, the dirt ended. Seriously? That was it? We were now on the paved road to Cuba...and climbing once again - through a one-lane construction zone. One where there is no flagman, only a traffic signal. Would we trip the signal or was it timed? GREEN. Let's go. The construction zone was very short and we soon reached a high point. Next thing we know, we're traveling down the paved highway at 35mph. In a blink of an eye 10 miles are behind us. So, the giant downhill we'd been waiting all day for was essentially on pavement. Talk about the biggest 3000' descent letdown evah. Meh.
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| Cuba incoming. |
We received some good intel on bike friendly places to stay, so after downing a chocolate milk we made a hotel reservation and asked about a hose or car wash. There was a self-serve car wash in town. We tag teamed the wash effort and even hosed each other down since our shoes, rain pants and backpacks were covered in mud. It was a very efficient, successful 2 minutes.
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| Cuba welcome center has seen better days. |
I had been craving a tuna sub from Subway the past hour or so, only to find out the Subway in town was temporarily closed. McD's to the rescue. Shovel in the calories.
It was a tough day and once again we failed to reach our 80 mile goal. This was our shortest day of the three so far and we were now about 50 miles behind schedule. I think it was while we were chowing down, but I brought up the idea of sticking to the Tour Divide route instead of the dirt route we had planned. For one, the skies were still looking unsettled and that route is no place to be when wet. The paved route would be a few more miles, but much faster riding. We knew if we could make it to Grants the following night, we'd be practically back on pace. The catch? That meant we'd need to pull off a 125 mile day. We were both game and alarms were set for 5:30a.
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| The hotel was perfect for our needs and only $73. |
Back at the hotel, we unpacked everything making use of every possible space. Our gear was quite wet. If it didn't completely dry in a few hours, that was okay, as it wouldn't be needed if we made it to Grants.
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