Tour Divide Day 7.

142km (incl. detour). Basin to Wise River.
14 hours, including 3 stopped.

After heading to bed last night, four other riders rolled into the bed and breakfast where I was staying. Richard (South Carolina), and a group of three, John, Luke (St. Louis), and Dan (California) who I'd seen in Lincoln the night before. It was strangely comforting to know that, even with the ground that I've lost, there were still others out in the area. I hope that I can see these guys again.

My front shifter seized up yesterday, which would normally be a problem worth mentioning except that I seem to have more pressing issues on this trip. And, besides, it wasn't entirely a horrible event considering that I have been mostly using the granny ring on this trip. Nonetheless, it was good to get into Butte today to have it fixed at the Outdoorsman, a GDMBR-friendly bicycle shop.

Rob, the owner of the shop, was very sweet and gave me a pep talk. He also gave me a water bottle with some goodies in it and free service on my bike. The hospitality was overwhelming.

I also had some errands to run while 'in the big city', including a visit to the pharmacy. A girl at the checkout asked me where I was cycling to and I said that I was headed to the Mexican border. She responded with a comment like 'oh, I could never do that'. And I thought, 'yes you can, it's all in your head'. But then I realized that I can hardly make such a remark credibly anymore, given all of the doubts that I have been dealing with myself over the last week.

Still, I really believe that it is all in your head. In my head. So, how do I get my mental strength back? I feel like things are getting better today. But it is hard to know for sure from the darkness how far it will be until I am out of this hole. Will it even happen on this trip?

I covered a lot of vertical today. On the first climb out of Butte, it snowed. Just the kind that you can watch slowly drop to the ground and then disappear. But it was still snow. Later, I crested Fleecer Ridge, climbing up to 2375m. Just on the last stretch of the ascent, dan, John and Luke caught me. It was nice to see some people and to share the absurdity of the stretch of hiking that was about to come, as the trail started downward at a grade and quality that rendered it unridable for all but the most brave.

I arrived in Wise River a good 15 minutes before the rest and stood in the bar (the only one in town) and waited tp order dinner. A man with a white beard and no socks walked over to my and asked if I would mind putting some drops in his eyes. Come again? Yes, drops in his eyes. I felt more uncomfortable saying no than doing it.

Walking into the bar was like walking into a movie about small town america. Antlers on the wall. Bear skin on the ceiling. Overweight men with moustaches sitting at the bar.

The juke box started and played so loud enough to drown out any possibility of conversation. We looked at each other around the table and smiled. The song was something about the call of the wild and it inspired a few of the burly guys at the bar to howl like wolves. Ok, finally a laugh-out-loud moment on this trip!

We finished the night with a Double Haul; a super can of high potency Montana beer with some fly-fishing lingo on the side that I couldn't understand.
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network